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underworldobsessed · 3 years

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Burn the World for You ll An Obitine Fanfic

Title: Burn the World for You Rating: T Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Anakin Skywalker/Padme Amidala Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Satine Kryze, Padme Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Bo-Katan Kryze Series: ABO Obitine (Part 8 out of ???), TAS Week (Omegaverse week) (Part 5 out of 7) Summary: Temples and Sabers Week: Day 5 Omega Auction ll Satine and Padmè are enjoying an afternoon together when a surprise visitor tells them of an Omega Auction ring, and when they try to comm their respective Jedi, they find that they had already gone to investigate and hadn't been heard from in a few days, since they were supposed to check in. Those running the ring quickly learn what happens when someone harms their omegas, as they will burn everything down to ensure they're safe. Author’s Note: This quickly spiraled out of control, but in a good way! I hope you all enjoy! Mando’a translations: Cyar'ika - Beloved Vod - Sister K'oyacyi - Come Back Safely, or Survive.

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Having Padmé over for tea was always such a treat. Satine and her both had been so busy lately that the time to just see friends and relax seemed far in the past, but they did always try to make time to see one another. It was sort of fun to engage in just idle gossip and spend time with those who didn’t have ulterior motives.

“So Obi still has no idea about you and his padawan, does he?” Satine laughed, shaking her head. She adored her jedi, but she absolutely knew that he wasn’t going to notice the obvious. After Obi-Wan had faked his death, Satine had grown closer to Padmé and confessed to her one night that she had been mated to Obi-Wan for years, after which Padmé had confessed to being married and mated to Anakin, which had only caused the two of them to grow closer.

“Not at all, it’s almost funny. Obi-Wan is smart, but he can’t see what’s in front of him. I love Ani, but he really has no idea how to be subtle about our relationship.” Padmé laughed and sipped at her drink, spiked with a little something that Satine had lying around. Neither woman was drunk, they both had high tolerances, but they were relaxed.

A knock on the chamber door tore their attention from their conversation and Satine stood, putting on the familiar mask of Duchess as one of her guards entered the room.

“Forgive the intrusion, Duchess,” She sounded apologetic “But there is someone here to see you. I wouldn’t have given permission but you said that this is one of the few people to allow access…”

The guard moved out of the way and in walked a woman in full Beskar’gam.

“Death Watch!” Padmé moved to stand in front of her friend with her blaster raised. “I won’t let you hurt the Duchess!” Satine reached and lowered her friend’s arm as the woman removed her helmet, revealing a young face with red hair, chopped almost sloppily above her shoulders.

“Bo!” Satine moved forward, but stopped not far in front of her estranged sister. “What are you doing here?” She glanced behind her momentarily to make sure no other Death Watch members were waiting for her to let her guard down, before she looked, truly looked at her. She had never seen such fear on her face before, not even when Satine had to flee their home after their parents had been assassinated. She knew Bo-Katan to be a hardened warrior, to wear her emotions under the surface so no one would see how she truly felt, but whatever this was, really terrified her.

Bo-Katan glanced over at Padmé, as if she was judging whether or not she could trust her, but she ended up just moving to lean against the wall. She tried to school her expression, but Satine could still see the fear in her face. She knew her sister well, even after all these years.

“You know I wouldn’t come to you unless I was desperate.” Bo’s voice was even as she looked over at her sister. “But something has come to light that Death Watch is doing that I can’t stand to see. I’ve tried to convince them to stop, but they refuse to listen to me. I think they suspect that I’m not an alpha like them, because why else would they not listen to me on this?”

“Bo, you’re rambling.” Satine gently told her, moving closer to her to squeeze her hand. “What is Death Watch doing?”

“...Omega auctions..” Bo’s face turned white as a sheet as she told her this, and for a moment, Satine thought her sister was going to be sick. “They’re taking Omegas from their homes and auctioning them off to either other Death Watch members or just to the highest bidder. I know I’m on blockers; both Pheromone and Heat blockers, but Satine, what if they discover me? These poor Omegas… They don’t deserve what they’re going through.”

Satine felt ice run through her veins. Omega auctions were illegal in all parts of the galaxy as far as she was aware. So the fact that Death Watch was running one was enough to get the attention of the Jedi Order, and get them to put a stop to it. But the question remained, why was Bo telling her this?

“Bo, why are you telling me this? I can’t do much here. I only handle the neutral systems.” She didn’t understand where her sister was coming from.

“I couldn’t go to Pre. He doesn’t know about my presentation, and I didn’t want him to find out and… send me to auction with the rest of them, and I know about your mate being jetii. I know that you have connections that I don’t, and that you could maybe help. Please, Sat’ika..” The childhood nickname caused a lump to form in Satine’s throat. She hadn’t heard her sister call that in so long, and knew she had to help her if she was that desperate.

“Of course, Bo’ika.” She promised, moving to her commlink to try and connect to Obi-Wan, noticing how Padmé had gone to reach out to Anakin at the same time. When neither of their communications were answered, they shared a worried glance. “Did Master Skywalker tell you he was going on a mission where he wouldn’t be able to be reached?”

“No, did Master Kenobi?” Padmé asked, which only got a shake of Satine’s head in turn. “Do you have Ahsoka’s frequency?”

“I do,” Satine let her worry slip through as she went to reach out to Ahsoka, who picked up really quickly.

“Duchess, thank the force you called,” Ahsoka sounded worried “I may need your assistance.”

“Padawan Tano, what’s going on? Where’s Obi-Wan and Anakin?” Satine didn’t need the force to know that something was off, that her mate may be in danger again.

“They… they went on a mission to stop what was rumored to be an Omega Slave Ring but that was days ago and they haven’t returned to Coruscant yet. Master Yoda won’t let me go after them, but I think they’re in danger.” Ahsoka glanced at her lap. “I’m not an Omega though, but the two of them both are… What if they were found out?”

Possessiveness flared in Satine, turning her skin hot and one hand clenched in a fist. “I’ll make sure they’re alright, Ahsoka.” She didn’t even recognize her own voice as she spoke, the tone unnaturally angry for her. It wasn’t even like the anger she felt towards Obi-Wan when he had faked his death, no this was primal and she knew she would raze down the entire galaxy if it meant bringing her Omega home to her. From the look in Padmé’s eyes, she knew that it would be the same for her as well. “Everything will be alright, I’ll contact you when I get them.”

“Do you know where you’re going?” Ahsoka asked, ready to tell Satine the details if it came down to it.

“Don’t worry, I have a source.” She hung up the commlink, before looking to her sister. “I suggest you tell me everything, Bo, because if Obi and Anakin have failed, we may as well be their last hopes.”

The whip was sharp against Obi-Wan’s back, and he did everything to prevent them from seeing his pain. There was a part of him that wondered why they were damaging what he knew was the merchandise. He and Anakin both had been captured as they were investigating an underground omega slave ring. He didn’t know how they knew that the two of them were omegas, but they knew.

And now, they were on the sales floor as the hottest merchandise.

“Well, look what we got here,” Obi-Wan looked up and saw a man in full Beskar’gam. So Death Watch was involved… fantastic. “A Jedi Omega… pity you’re already marked. We can’t sell a marked Omega easily. Your friend on the other hand…”

“No!” Obi-Wan thrashed against the chains that were holding him. He glanced to Anakin… poor Anakin. The poor man had been through so much in terms of slavery, and to use his secondary gender as another excuse to put him in chains. Even now, his head was down, looking so lost and broken. “Remove my mark, make me unmarked, just let Anakin go!” He didn’t want Anakin to go through that again. He didn’t deserve that to happen to him. At the revelation that Obi-Wan was marked, Anakin’s head shot up and he looked over at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan tried to remember if he had ever told Anakin about his mate, but he was drawing a blank. Now was not the time to consider that.

“Hmm… too bad, not going to happen, though we can remove that mark and fetch both of you for a fitting price. And how ironic, that the mate of the Duchess Satine will help us fund our efforts to dethrone her.” The whip came sharp against his back once more, and he didn’t make a sound, though he could feel the blood drip down his back. He had been taking every strike, and thankfully, because he had been vocal about it, they were diverting their attention to him. Anakin had been receiving minimal blows, but nothing compared to what Obi-Wan had been dealing with.

“Now let’s see our other prize,” The Death Watch member walked over to Anakin, and sliced off his shirt, armor long since being removed. “You’re marked too? What happened to the Jedi not taking mates.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, shocked that Anakin had also taken a mate. But judging by the look of defiance on his face, Anakin’s had been done on purpose. He had knowingly taken a mate. Part of him wanted to scold Anakin for his blatant disrespect for the Jedi Code, but this was not the time for that, and it would sound incredibly hollow with what he knew was his own disregard for it when it came to Satine.

“No matter, we can sell you both and after you’re purchased, just remove that mating mark of yours. You’ll both still be worth plenty of credits now that I think about it. A jedi omega. If your new alphas can break you, you will be a fine pet for them. Now, it’s your time on the sales floor.” Even behind the helmet, Obi-Wan could hear the smirk in his voice. He thrashed against the chains, wanting to do anything to wipe that smirk off his face but the chains were designed with holding a Jedi in mind, unwilling to bend with the use of the Force. The whip hit his back one last time, and Obi-Wan felt his body just go slack. He couldn’t take anymore pain.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin called, wanting him to respond but his fighting spirit had just… snapped. Or rather, his energy had faded. He had lost a lot of blood because of this, and the last whip against his skin, tearing at the flesh, was enough to cause him to give him. “Obi-Wan! You need to keep fighting, please.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond, not wanting to let Anakin down, but he felt himself giving up. The Jedi Council didn’t know they had been taken. Their commlinks had been confiscated and he knew they had lost. At least they didn’t die at the hands of the war. For a moment, his mind flickered to Satine, his beloved. He didn’t want them to remove his mating mark, but because of what he knew it would do to her. Their bond had already been severed once before, but a purposeful removal of a mark was different. A heat and a rut would trigger in each of them, and nobody would be there to help her. He wished it had been different, they had been more careful. They should have been more careful.

“I’m sorry, Anakin.” Obi-Wan finally spoke, lifting his head to look at his former apprentice. “I failed you. I should have protected you from this, and I failed.”

“You didn’t fail me, we’ll find a way out of this. We always do.” Normally, Obi-Wan would agree with his optimism, but something like this wasn’t going to be easy, and with the chains preventing him from using the force, he knew there was nothing he could do. “... I suppose my secret’s out in the open now.”

“Is it Senator Amidala?” Obi-Wan asked, and watched as the color filled Anakin’s cheeks, turning him a bright red. Ah, so he was right in his suspicions that they were closer than they let on. “I’m not a moron, Anakin, I can see how you feel for her, feel it in the force. And honestly, who am I to scold you with the fact that you’re mated when I am too. You deserve to be happy, my friend.”

“When did you and the duchess…?” Anakin was almost afraid to ask, but they were being open with each other, laying their cards on the table. Anakin knew that it was because Obi-Wan thought they wouldn’t get out of this situation, but he hoped that Ahsoka would come, bringing their clone troopers and make a daring getaway.

“When I was still Qui-Gon’s padawan, when we were protecting the Duchess from bounty hunters. My blockers had been left at our previous camp and I went into a heat, a terrible thing at the most inconvenient time. During one of the times I was lucid, I asked Satine to… to…” His voice quieted, now it was his turn to blush “And she did, but we both got lost in the passion, and she marked me. She apologized but I was okay with it. I thought maybe it would make things easier, and I… honestly had become tired of denying how I felt. It did, until I had to leave. Leaving the other half of you is not easy, and I didn’t see her again until the council asked me to investigate Death Watch on Mandalore and then we became her protection detail on the Coronet.”

Before either of them could speak again, the platform they were on began to rise, and they found themselves in front of a small audience of, from the smell alone, Obi-Wan knew to be exclusively Alphas, many of which wearing Mandalorian armor.

“Alphas!” A voice boomed around them “I present to you two new options for sale, and they are not just any options, but they are Jedi as well!” A murmur rippled through the crowd, especially upon seeing both of their mating marks. “No worries, when you purchase these two find specimens, we will be more than happy to pay for their mark removal.”

A chill ran down Obi-Wan’s spine, and he wanted to fight against the chains, but he couldn’t. He was trapped in there, and his body was still aching from the whips. He didn’t want another alpha. He wanted Satine. No other.

He didn’t hear how much either of them were going for, focusing on the fear on Anakin’s face, the stress, and the smell of that stress in the air. He tried to use the force to calm Anakin down, knowing this was incredibly traumatic for him.

As the crowd started to bid on him, there was suddenly an explosion from behind the crowd. Emerging from the rubble was Satine, Padmé and a woman in full Mandalorian armor… another member of Death Watch? Then why was she fighting alongside Satine.

Alpha ! Obi-Wan’s inner Omega sang, and instead of being as excited as that part of him was, his body grew more limp. The blood loss was getting to him more and more each second. The last thing he remembered was Anakin calling out his name, and Satine pulling out a small trigger from somewhere before his consciousness finally faded.

Satine knew that she would regret what she was doing once she really thought about it, but seeing Obi-Wan and Anakin there, with Obi-Wan losing consciousness, chained up as they were about to be auctioned off… Well, rationality left her mind.

“You really thought two Jedi could go missing and no one would come looking for them?” Satine’s voice was angry, the calm and collected Duchess taking a back seat to the angry alpha in her mind. “You really thought you could take the mates of a Duchess and a Senator and not assume we would burn the world down looking for them?”

“You? The weak willed, pacifist duchess wouldn’t raise a finger,” A member of Death Watch spoke up as they landed in front of her “And you, Bo-Katan, I should have known you would betray us. You were always so weak when it came to your sister. Besides, you think you’re so good at hiding your weak nature, but nothing could keep the stench of Omega off of you. You’re lucky Pre is in the dark, otherwise you would be on that stand as well” Satine could feel her sister preparing to launch herself at the warrior, so she raised an arm to keep her where she was.

“I won’t raise a finger to hurt you, you’re right, but the same cannot be said for this place. And you act like I came without preparing for every circumstance. You see, you harmed my mate, and I won’t let that sit.” She passed the trigger over to Padmé with a smirk. “You know Senator Amidala, yes? That man right there is Anakin Skywalker, her mate, and unlike me, she doesn’t have a problem with violence. If I say the word, she will press that trigger, and a bomb will go off underneath your feet. The fall and the explosion won’t kill you, and we have members of their Clone Troopers on their way to arrest you all for your crimes. However, my darling sister,” She glanced at Bo, who had her blasters in her hand. “Is entirely willing to blast your heads off if any of you try anything. And well, if I don’t see her do it, who’s to say what she did.”

“You don’t have the guts to try.” The Death Watch member sneered as he pulled his weapon on Satine.

“You forget, I may be a pacifist, but I am also a Mandalorian, just as much as any of you are.” She turned her head away as Bo fired off a single shot, knocking them down. Many of the crowd quickly moved out of her way, and she stalked forward, her gaze on the unconscious form of her mate. Not long after they had made their way forward, the sound of Clone Troopers boots rang out and they came in to arrest many of the Alphas there.

Both she and Padmé came to a stop in front of their chained up Omega’s. Padmé moved first, moving to hug Anakin and pulled out a vibroblade to cut the chain that was holding him.

“Angel..” Anakin mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck, breathing in her scent and allowing it to surround him. It took a moment for him to remember, and he pulled back. “Obi-Wan, we need to help him.”

But he didn’t need to say anything, because Satine was already trying to get him out of the chains, taking the blade from Padmé to cut them and catching Obi-wan as he fell forward. Her heart broke at the sight of the whip marks lining up and down his back. “Oh cyar’ika..” She mumbled, looking up as Bo moved forward.

“The clones have arrested many of them here. I… need to go before they think I’m involved too..” She glanced around for a moment before she looked down at Satine. “Thank you, vod, for helping me.”

Satine set Obi-Wan down for a moment before she got up and hugged her sister. “You are always welcome with me, Bo-Katan, if you ever choose to return to Mandalore, you will be welcome. You are my sister, and I will never turn you away.”

She felt Bo shudder in her arms before she wrapped her arms around Satine briefly, but then pulled back. “Not while you're the leader of Mandalore, Satine. We are not a peaceful people… and I can’t bear to see us like that…” She took a few steps back before she got her jetpack going and she flew off and out of there.

“K’oyacyi, Bo-Katan…” Satine mumbled, before her attention immediately went back to her mate. He was definitely looking worse for wear and she didn’t know how long he had been bleeding. She wasn’t strong enough to carry him back to the ship, but she looked over at Anakin. “Help me carry him.” He nodded and moved to lift up Obi-Wan, both him and Satine flinching at the pained moan he let out.

The four of them went back to the ship, in silence. As soon as they were back on the ship, Anakin sent Obi-Wan down on a bed, and went to aid Padmé in the take off. After grabbing some bacta to put on his wounds, Satine moved to brush a strand of hair out of his face, relieved as his eyes finally opened.

“Cyar’ika… thank the stars you’re okay.” Satine smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead “You scared me.”

“Hello, my darling.” Obi-Wan gave her a pained smile “If you are not the most beautiful sight I could have laid my eyes on.” Satine wanted to roll her eyes, deflect his attention, but she felt her skin heat and she smiled. She was hopelessly in love with this man.

She didn’t say anything at first, moving to start applying the bacta to his bare back. Even with it, it was going to take some time for him to heal. She glanced towards Anakin and Padmé for a moment, but realized that their secret was out in the open now. Anakin knew, truly knew, and they didn’t have to hide their relationship from him anymore.

“I want you to stay at my apartment on Coruscant with me for a few days,” She said, knowing that the fire that burned within her when she learned of Obi-Wan’s predicament still burned. She wanted to keep him close at least until she needed to return to Mandalore. “I need you by my side.”

“Satine, I…” He moved to sit up but quickly fell back to laying on his stomach at the pain. “I need to be at the temple. We can’t…”

“Please, Obi,” Her voice became slightly pleading. “I cannot begin to describe the way I felt when I heard that you went to investigate an Omega Auction ring, and seeing you chained up, unconscious, turned me into a woman I never wanted to be. The reason I want you by my side is entirely selfish, but I need to be sure you’re alright, that I haven’t lost you..”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and Satine was certain that he was going to say no again. She wouldn’t hold it against him. She knew just how important this was for him, to keep up the facade of the two of them not being together. If he said no again, she would understand, but she would still stay on Coruscant until she was certain he was okay. However, after a moment, she saw him nod.

“Okay, Satine, I’ll stay with you.”

She had to contain her emotions, but she moved to kiss his cheek. She would care for him there as an alpha should, help him heal before he would go back to his jedi duties.

It was the least she could do as she thought that she failed to protect him before.

#TASweek2021 #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Obitine #Jen writes #Anakin Skywalker #Padme Amidala #Anidala #I wrote a ship I haven't before :D #Bo-Katan Kryze

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zelenacat · 3 years

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When We Were Young- Chapter 13- An Obitine Story

The difficult part of that promise lay with Tyra Satine. How would she get her daughter to Mandalore? Korkie went back to school with very few words to her, and all he promised was that he wouldn’t tell anyone. Satine felt sick to her stomach. Tristan, who attended the Royal Academy of the Sciences in Sundari, was spending most of his free time with Korkie and his friends. Although, Satine had only found out through the gossip columns. Mara was being trained as a criminal, but she was incredibly witty and quick. Satine decided that she wanted her daughter to have an education, and so granted Mara access to the Library of Lawmakers. She and her master criminal, Bartok was his name, had relocated to Mandalore and would be her eyes in the criminal underworld. Which Satine considered a great advantage, that she could tell no one about. But Tyra Satine, how could she get to her?

Then Padme called, and she knew.

“I’m coming next Tuesday!” cheered the Senator.

“Wonderful,” Satine smiled, “and Padme, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know, Master Quinlan Vos?”

“Hm,” Padme obviously tilted her head, “Anakin might.”

“Can you give me Anakin’s number then?”

“Why?”

Satine sighed, “There’s more that ties me to the temple than what you know.”

“How? This is a secure line, Satine.”

“Master Vos’ padawan,” Satine swallowed, “her name is Tyra Satine.”

Padme was silent for a moment.

“I’ll give you Anakin’s number, and ask about him for you.”

“Thank you, Padme,” Satine’s fear eased, “you’re a darling.”

“I know, I know,” the Senator grinned, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Your arrival will be grand, that I promise.”

“Oh well,” Padme sighed, “I guess I’ll have to charm everyone.”

“It’s what you do best, Padme.”

“See you then, Satine.”

Happy with herself, the Duchess began to plan for Padme’s arrival. Her advisors were more than thrilled, Almec however, was slightly cautious.

“A Republic Senator visiting, after we’ve chosen to remain neutral,” he ventured, “wouldn’t that send the wrong message?”

“We’ll invite a member of the Seperatist Senate another time,” Satine assured him, “Padme is what the system needs.”

If anyone was surprised that the Duchess called the Republic’s best diplomat by first name, they didn’t show it.

“Is that all?” Satine asked.

“Yes, Your Grace.” the Prime Minister nodded.

Satine dismissed the meeting.

“Are you worried at all?” Parna asked when she brought in Satine’s afternoon tea.

The Duchess stayed silent.

“About the kids?” Khaami prompted.

“Yes,” Satine admitted with a sigh, “Korkie has been avoiding me.”

“I’m surprised you told them so soon,” Khammi commented, “seventeen years ago you said they would never know.”

Satine opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

“She met Ben again.” Parna explained.

“Ah, yes,” Khaami leaned back, “the Jedi Knight in shining armor.”

“You know?” Parna squinted.

Khaami smiled, “I was present at the births of both sets of twins.”

“Along with Fesma and a medical droid.” Satine added.

“No pain relievers?” Parna gasped.

“Just some pills.” Satine answered.

Parna gaped.

“Our Duchess is quite the warrior,” Khaami smiled, “in her own way.”

“The she-wolf.” Parna agreed.

Satine sighed and stirred her tea, “I never thought my life would be like this.”

“I don’t think anyone could’ve foreseen what happened.” Parna said sympathetically.

“It is quite unusual.” Khaami added.

“That’s for sure.” Satine rolled her eyes.

Satine’s comm dinged.

“Oh,” the Duchess looked down, “it’s Anakin.”

Khaami tilted her head, “The Senator’s Jedi?”

“Yeah,” Parna explained, “he and Ben are close.”

Satine smiled.

“What is it?”

Satine giggled, “He’s congratulating me on my extensive efforts to undermine the Jedi, how very Mandalorian of me.”

“Ah,” Khaami nodded, “the hero with a strange sense of humor.”

Satine asked about Quinlan Vos and his Padawan.

“They will be accompanying Senator Amidala!” Parna squealed, reading over her lady’s shoulder.

Satine smiled and thanked the Jedi.

“Wait a minute,” Khaami blinked, “Ben isn’t his real name!”

Parna gave her a look.

“Isn’t Master Kenobi on the Jedi Council?” Khaami asked with a frown.

“That’s why no one can find out.” Parna explained.

“Satine,” Khaami sighed, “please tell me you’re not going to have any more children.”

The Duchess laughed, “Khaami, I’m 35 years old, I won’t be having any other children.”

“I’m just making sure, Your Grace.” the lady winked.

Parna smiled, “Where shall we have them meet?”

“The gardens,” Satine clapped, “with a picnic.”

“In full view?”

“They’ll be friends of Korkie’s,” Satine explained, “just here for tea.”

The meeting took place on Sunday, and Quinlan Vos and his Padawan Tyra showed up in one of the Republic’s cruisers. Only, it hovered slightly above the landing pad.

“I’ll pick you up on Tuesday!”

Satine’s heart lurched as Tyra jumped off the ship and struck a perfect landing right next to her.

“Tyra Satine!” she whispered harshly.

Her daughter stood, took the Duchess’ hand, and curtsied.

“You must be Lady Mother.”

Parna giggled on Satine’s right.

“I am.”

Tyra stood and kissed her mother’s cheek, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Your Grace.”

“Oh?”

The Padawan pulled a necklace out of her shirt, “I did extensive research on it, that’s how I knew I was Mandalorian.”

“I’m glad you still have that trinket,” Satine looped an arm around Tyra, “it was your grandmother’s.”

Khaami and Parna accompanied Satine and Tyra to the gardens, where Korkie, Tristan, and Mara were waiting.

“Howdy do?” Tyra winked.

Mara burst into laughter, Tristan looked confused, Korkie was horrified.

“Don’t worry,” Tyra sat down on the blanket, “I don’t actually talk like that.”

“Oh,” Tristan bit his lip, embarrassed, “well thank God.”

Tyra snorted, “I have some manners, I’m from the Temple after all.”

“Can I see your weapon?” Korkie perked up.

“Sure!”

“No,” Satine crossed her arms, “definitely not.”

“Why not,” Korkie asked, mirroring Satine’s stance, “Lady Mother?”

“Because,” Satine huffed, “you are the Mandalorian heir, and you shouldn’t touch a Jedi weapon.”

“Oh yeah,” Tyra nodded, “because he’ll definitely burst into flames.”

“Tyra Satine.”

“It’s true, Lady Mother,” Mara piped up, “Korkie can handle himself.”

“I’m seventeen.” Korkie agreed.

“Son,” Satine sighed, “you’d burn a hole through your head if you tried to use a lightsaber.”

“Not if Tyra trained him.” Tristan pointed out.

“Absolutely not!” Satine clutched her pearls.

“Why not?” Korkie asked, smiling wider than Satine had ever seen him smile.

“Because,” Satine stuttered, “because-”

“Perhaps, Your Grace,” Khaami interrupted smoothly, “we should leave the children to their antics and go enjoy a nice cup of tea?”

“A relaxing cup of tea.” Parna added.

Satine relented, “I would enjoy that.”

The Duchess began her walk upstairs, but then turned around sharply.

“No Jedi shenanigans, children.” she warned.

“Of course not,” Tristan grinned in a seated bow, “Lady Mother.”

Slightly frustrated Satine continued on her way upstairs and had Khaami bring a nice platter of tea and sweets up to her personal parlor.

“They love each other already.” Parna smiled.

“They ganged up on me!” Satine huffed, grabbing a cookie.

“That’s what siblings do.” Parna smiled.

“Their obsession with the Jedi though,” Khaami frowned, “that’s concerning.”

“We told them their father is a Jedi.” Satine frowned.

“Yes,” Parna spoke up hopefully, “but they don’t know which Jedi.”

“Let’s hope they don’t figure it out.” Khaami agreed.

“Let’s.” Satine nodded.

After her morning tea, Satine had a meeting with her council.

“Things are running smoothly for Senator Amidala’s visit.” Prime Minister Almec smiled.

“What about these reports of food shortages,” Satine asked, “they are concerning.”

“I agree,” seconded one of her advisors, “we must investigate this problem.”

As more and more agreements to this statement were reiterated, Satine noticed Almec’s knuckles whiten.

“What do you think, Prime Minister?” she asked, suddenly skeptical.

“I think that we should focus on one event at a time,” Prime Minister Almec suggested, “perhaps this should be a problem for after the Senator leaves.”

Satine frowned, if there was one thing she hated, it was corruption, and she now knew that people were willing to lie to her.

“I think we shall keep watch on this problem,” Satine decided, “but I also think we should begin our efforts now.”

“I agree with Her Grace.”

Satine looked around the table, no one disagreed.

“Dismissed.” Satine announced.

Only the Prime Minister stayed back.

“Prime Minister?” Satine questioned, tilting her head.

“I do not think it wise to show the Republic we are weak.” he responded.

“We are only as weak as our insecurities are strong,” Satine stood, “Mandalore stands firm in her position.”

Almec bowed, “Your Grace.”

Parna met Satine at the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just,” Parna sighed, “Tristan has just mind tricked a guard.”

Satine coughed.

“And Korkie,” Parna continued, “Tyra seems to think he’s powerful.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Satine shook her head, “not my Korkie.”

“Come see.” Parna advised.

Instead of the garden where she left them, Satine’s children were at the center of the garden’s maze. Surrounded by a large picnic and floating objects.

The Duchess was furious, “What in the name of Mandalore-”

The flying objects dropped.

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t I say no Jedi shenanigans?”

“Sorry, Lady Mother,” Tristan smiled, “but I can do mind tricks now!”

Crossing her arms, Satine told her second son to fix the guard. After some pouting, he did.

“Your Grace!”

“Please return to your post,” Satine nodded, “I must speak to my nephew and his friends.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After he was gone, Satine noticed all the children staring at her.

“What?”

“You called me your nephew.” Korkie said sadly.

Satine shook her head, “That particular guard is not on the list of people who know.”

“Which guards are?” Tyra asked.

“My two head guards know half the story,” Satine clarified, “but you must not tell anyone.”

“Tristan has great balance,” Tyra spoke up, “he should practice lightsaber movements.”

The Duchess’ voice grew cold, “There is no need for that.”

The children looked at each other, surprised.

“Lady Khaami said our father was a powerful Jedi,” Tristan crossed his arms, “why can’t we learn his art?”

“Because he,” Satine stuttered, “he, he doesn’t know about you.”

“We know that, Lady Mother,” Mara spoke, “that’s not a good enough reason.”

Satine let the silence hang.

“Would it be so terrible to assume,” Korkie began, “that our father is a high profile figure?”

“No,” Satine swallowed, “no it would not.”

“And no doubt your reputation,” Tyra frowned, “even at the Temple people are surprised I hail from the Mandalore system.”

“And Mandalore’s dignity.” Tristan added.

“All I ask,” Satine began quietly, “is that if you do anything remotely related to the Jedi, then please do it in secret.”

“Yes, Lady Mother.” Mara nodded.

“We understand, Lady Mother.” Tristan agreed.

Korkie stood and embraced his mother.

“You raised me,” he said, “even though I didn’t know, I would hate to remind you of hard times.”

The Duchess sobbed, “Thank you, Korkie.”

“We won’t practice if it reminds you of our father.” Tyra insisted.

“No, practice,” Satine wiped her eyes, “just don’t tell me about your progress.”

Parna came forward and steadied Satine.

“We have the final touches to prepare for Padme’s visit.”

“Yes,” Satine swallowed, “please children, excuse me.”

The final steps to prepare for Padme’s visit were picking her rooms. Korkie still slept on the same floor as her, and his siblings would be placed in the remaining rooms around him. Which left the lower floor.

“Can we give Padme a room on the lower floor,” Satine asked, “Would she be offended?”

“I cannot say, Your Grace,” responded the palace’s head maid, “she seems sensible, but we do not wish to offend the Republic.”

Parna leaned in close to Satine, “Tyra and Mara can share, and if Tristan bunked with Korkie she could fit.”

The Duchess considered this, she had never shared a room with Bo-Katan even when they were young.

“I hear the Prince’s friends will be staying till Tuesday morning.” stated the head maid.

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “but we will have them share, I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Hesitant, the maid smiled, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

The Duchess arranged for a quiet dinner in a small dining room with her children. Then, she asked the guards if they knew where the Prince and his friends were.

“The ballroom, Your Grace.”

“Thank you.” Satine nodded.

The Duchess of Mandalore was shocked to find her kids wrestling each other on the ballroom floor. Well, it was more like Tyra was teaching her siblings self defense with the added bonus of getting to beat them up.

“It’s alright, Lady Mother,” Mara smiled, seeing the Duchess first, “we’re alright.”

Satine gawked, “Tyra Satine, stop choking your twin brother!”

“I’m not-”

Korkie, who was back to the floor, kneed Tyra in the chin and twisted on top of her.

“Go Korkie!” Tristan cheered.

Satine sighed, “Don’t encourage your brother, Tristan.”

Mara pulled Korkie off of Tyra.

“Come on, I was about to win!”

“No you weren’t,” Tyra stretched, “Tristan, you want to go next?”

Tristan opened his mouth to speak.

“Absolutely not,” Satine crossed her arms, “I have ordered a special dinner and I will not have my children bruised.”

“Dinner,” Mara frowned, “it’s not even four o’clock.”

“Lady Mother,” Tyra’s knit her eyebrows, “that doesn’t make any sense.”

Tristan and Korkie looked at each other.

“Knowing our Lady Mother,” Korkie began, “we will likely have to dress for the occasion.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” Tristan grinned, “I’m sure you’ll take kindly to the royal treatment, Tyra.”

“Ha ha.”

“Children,” Satine smiled, “tonight I would like to imagine I raised you myself, you will have to act your birthright.”

“But it’s just us, right?” Mara asked.

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “just us.”

“Korkie,” the Duchess turned, “give Tristan one of your old uniforms. Tyra and Mara shall come with me.”

Parna and Khaami made grand gestures to welcome Tyra Satine and Mara to the Duchess’ royal wardrobe.

Mara gawked, “I’ve never seen anything so fancy before in my life!”

Tyra clapped, “Oh my God, we get to wear these?”

“Yes,” Satine smiled, “pick out a dress.”

Squealing, the Duchess’ daughters ran through the rows of gowns and skirts of their mother’s walk-in closet.

“You’re so stylish, Lady Mother.” Tyra winked.

“Some of these I haven’t worn in years.” Satine confessed.

“I’ve watched some of your speeches,” Mara nodded, “you generally stick to the house colors.”

Satine was humbled, “You’ve watched my speeches?”

Mara blushed, “He was never subtle.”

Satine smiled.

“I like this one!” Tyra smiled, pulling out a salmon pink gown with a satin ivory sash and lace.

“What, Tyra,” Mara asked, “why?”

“We don’t get to play dress up at the temple,” Tyra explained, “and I think I'm gonna love being a secret princess.”

Satine laughed at that.

Mara gasped, “OMG, we should be matching!”

Tyra raised an eyebrow, “You?”

“Criminal trainees need baby lace too!” Mara whined.

Laughing, Satine pulled out a lilac version of the same dress.

“I’ll leave you two to get changed,” Satine beckoned for Khaami, “Lady Khaami will bring the head seamstress to see you.”

“The head seamstress?”

The Duchess grinned, “Alterations of course.”

Mara gasped, Tyra squealed. Khaami winked as she passed them.

“Parna,” Satine turned, “watch the girls while I check on the boys.” “Yes, Your Grace.” the lady smiled.

Satine made her way over to Korkie’s room, where much rustling emanated from within.

“Ow, Tristan-”

“Move over, Korkie.”

“Boys,” Satine smiled sweetly, “will you be done soon?”

“These uniforms are all tight, Lady Mother.” Tristan complained.

“Wear something in pastel blue, then, with white accents,” the Duchess suggested, “it will go with your sisters’ outfits.”

“Yes, Lady Mother.” Korkie agreed.

With a triumphant grin, Satine sauntered off back to her room.

“Mara and Tyra are being fitted in the parlor,” Parna told her, “shall we pick out your dress?”

“Yes,” the Duchess straightened, “I should like my pale yellow dress for this evening.”

Parna clapped, “I know just the one.”

By the time the entire family was dressed for dinner, it was almost time for the meal. Satine took her daughters and met her sons in the hallway.

“You look lovely, boys.” the Duchess smiled, pride in her features.

“We’re matching,” Tristan observed, “I’m sure you planned that, Lady Mother.”

“I most certainly did,” Satine nodded, “now, we will enter in proper form.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, hush, Tyra Satine,” the Duchess waved, “Korkie, take your twin sister on your right arm.”

Korke made a show of walking over to Tyra, jutting out his right arm, and placing Tyra’s left arm through his.

“Tristan, do the same with your twin sister.” Satine ordered.

With a little less grace and a couple hesitations, Tristan did the same.

“Korkie and Tyra will walk behind me,” the Duchess instructed, “and Tristan and Mara, you will follow.”

“Ooh,” Mara grinned, “fancy.”

“You ready?”

“Yes, Lady Mother.” answered a quartet of voices.

Satine lead her children into the private dining room, applauding herself silently as they all gasped.

“What a feast, Lady Mother!” Tyra gasped.

Mara choked back a sob and Satine wrapped her arm around her youngest.

“I’m afraid we’ll forgo servants tonight,” the Duchess explained, “servants and all, but please sit down and serve yourselves.”

Tyra made to sit down, but Korke stopped her.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he smiled, pulling out her chair, “only the best for a princess of Mandalore.”

Delighted, Tyra sat down.

Pulling out Mara’s chair, Tristan asked, “Are you trying to outdo me, Brother?”

Sliding into her chair with ease, Mara grinned up at her mother as Tristan pushed in her chair.

“Who shall pull out Lady Mother’s chair?” Tyra asked, looking to stir up violence.

Korkie and Tristan shared a look before racing over to their mother’s chair.

“How about both of you work together,” Satine suggested with a smile.

Tristan pulled out the chair anyway, stubbing Korkie’s toe.

“Lady Mother.” bowed her oldest.

Mara snorted. Satine sat down.

“Now that we’re all seated,” began the Duchess when everyone was comfortable, “I was hoping you’d all tell me a story about your childhood, a favorite moment, so that I get to know you.”

The children looked around the table.

“While eating of course.” Satine amended.

The Duchess worried that she had asked too much of her children, but then the silence dissipated and they began to serve themselves.

“After I had gotten my lightsaber,” Tyra began with a grin, “the Jedi Masters were supposed to choose a padawan, Master Vos chose me because I told him I had better hair than he did.”

Mara snorted, “Proud at an early age huh, Tyra?”

“He then asked me why I thought so,” Tyra gestured, “and I said because I was Mandalorian. Then I said that I researched my necklace and voila, I had a master.”

“Wow,” Satine shook her head, “that’s not usually how I remember hearing how it goes.”

“Lady Mother,” Tyra rested her chin on her hands, “you know Jedi stories?”

“I’ve known a few Jedi.” Satine nodded.

“Wait,” Mara paused, “isn’t our father-”

“I mean Master Qui-Gon-”

“You knew Master Qui-Gon,” Tyra perked up, “Master Vos says he’s the only one who could rival me for best hair.”

Satine burst into laughter.

“Lady Mother?”

“Tyra Satine,” smiled the Duchess, “you would for sure win that contest.”

“Really?” Tyra perked up.

“Master Qui-Gon once went a week without washing his hair,” Satine smiled at the memory, “it nearly destroyed him.”

Tyra shivered, “Sounds dreadful.”

Korkie sighed, “I now know so much more about you, Tyra.”

Tyra snorted, “Oh please, that wasn’t even the best one.”

“Mara,” Tristan suggested, “why don’t you go next?”

“Ooh,” Mara clapped, setting down her spoon, “how about the time I mind tricked the head of the Coruscanti Crime Ring!”

Satine gaped, “You did what?”

Mara blushed, “Don’t worry, Lady Mother, we’re not allowed back there.”

Satine sighed, head in her hands.

“I’ll go next,” Tristan piped up, “when I was seven I tried bokator for the first time.”

“Teach me?” Korkie asked.

Satine was so startled she coughed on her own spit. Tyra laughed.

“Anyways,” Tristan continued, “I broke a kid’s nose and then proceeded to tell him the process of how the doctors would fix it.”

“You’re such a nerd, Tristan.” Mara teased.

“When I was five,” Korkie began, “I told the head of Clan Saxon that she reminded me of a pooka.”

Satine groaned, “I remember that.”

“You,” Tyra asked, “the perfect manners man?”

“Yeah.”

“He got no dessert for a week,” Satine recounted, “what was it you liked, Korkie?”

The Duke of Sundari grinned, “Those packets with flavored powder and chalk-like sticks.”

“I loved that!” Mara gasped.

“I wasn’t even allowed to have that.” Tristan crossed his arms.

Tyra looked between her siblings, “Did I miss out on something?”

“Definitely.” Satine stated, reaching for her drink.

As dinner progressed, the Duchess felt a happy longing, wishing for this to have always been her life.

“Remember, children,” Satine spoke before dismissing her children, “Senator Amidala is coming on Tuesday.”

“We know, Lady Mother.”

“You’ll have to remain in the background,” Satine advised, “but you’ll meet her later on.”

After bidding her children goodnight, the Duchess went up to her room, sending Khaami to bring nightdresses to her daughters.

“How was it, Your Grace?” Parna asked, untying Satine’s dress.

“Marvelous,” tears sprung to the Duchess’s eyes, “my children are treasures.”

#satine kryze #satine x obiwan #Duchess Satine #korkie kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obitine #obiwan

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Chp 13

Characters: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), and more Jedi/clones/politicians than you can shake a stick at.

Summary: that one time Padme throws a big party, Bly cracks jokes, fox hates himself some more, mouse wears matching underwear, and Anakin has a heart to heart.

A/N: Snuggle up Fox Fanciers this boy is stupid long and full of yearning on a level I didn’t know I could yearn. You’ve been warned!

Special thanks as always to @skdubbs and @crimson-dxwn for being my sounding boards and supporters in all this. Love you ladies! 😘

————

“For the love of the Force…” Mouse curses quietly. Padmé was never going to let her live this one down. She turns, admiring herself in the floor length mirror. The kriffing dress was perfect. Like, absolutely perfect. Had she not lost a few kilos since Coruscant she may not have even fit it to begin with but she had and it did and it was all that mattered at the moment.

It was easier to admire the stunning red dress clinging to each curve, cutting off just below her knees than it was to think about him. Yeah, knowing Fox was going to be there and seeing him were two entirely different things. Seeing him had felt… complicated.

There had been a split second when she’d first laid eyes on him in that door, bucket slung under his arm, that she would have done anything he asked just to be near him. The loss she’d felt the first few days on Naboo was nothing in comparison to what she felt when he’d entered the Senator’s office. It was a blessing to be holding Leia, to have Luke as an excuse to leave as soon as she could.

She couldn’t think with him there. Her first instinct had always been to radiate to him, even before she’d really understood that was what she was doing. Fighting that instinct was hard and it hurt, but she didn’t think she had it in her to be that girl anymore. She didn’t know if she could give all of herself again and again to be pushed away when he got scared.

Padmé had said all the activity would be just a few days and then they’d be back to normal. Mouse just had to survive. She’d gotten good at that.

On the way out the door she questions retrieving a shawl. She’d be eating with warriors, battle hardened soldiers. She doubts their delicate sensibilities would be thrown into a tizzy by the sight of her scars. Maybe the more delicate socialites and their wives, but she doesn’t much care for their opinions.

She reaches up to touch the skin of her shoulder as an afterthought. It wasn’t the appearance so much as the feel of it she didn’t like. She hated rubbing the lotion into it, the almost rubbery feeling of the proliferative tissue there, but the doctors had said it was important to keep it softened to prevent it from tightening and contracting over the joint. So, two to three times a day, Mouse let go of her own uneasiness and pressed the special lotion into the skin, rubbed and massaged until the skin was pink with irritation.

The walk to the grand dining room is short and Mouse's heels echo softly down the large hallway. She can hear the conversation before the doors are even opened for her, punctuated by deep, masculine laughter. She’s fashionably late and Padmé raises a brow from her spot across the room. Mouse offers an apologetic smile and the senator returns it. Anakin stands a foot behind his wife. His attention is split between watching her and conversing with his former master.

It’s odd seeing the Jedi, both men, in formal wear. Tuxes just don’t look quite right on them. That’s not to say they don’t cut striking figures - General Kenobi would have his choice of Coruscanti society girls if he marched around the capitol like that. It's just a little wrong to see the Jedi not in their robes.

“Sweetling!” The deep rumble drags her attention from the senator who returns to speaking with the men in front of her, neither of whom Mouse recognizes.

“Marshall Commander,” she greets, turning and accepting a soft kiss on the cheek as Cody draws near.

“Mous’ika,” he chides, using the name he’d obviously heard somewhere.

“Yes, Cody?” she asks sweetly, managing to hold in her giggle until he laughs.

“That’s more like it! How have you been?”

Mouse falls into conversation with the Commander of the 212th. They’d met a handful of times now since she’d arrived in Naboo. The Commander had accompanied his Jedi on more than a few visits and while General Kenobi was spending time with his former Padawan, Cody had taken to having tea with Mouse and Padmé. He was a steady man who loved to gossip over holodramas and sip herbal tea. In another life maybe, Mouse could picture him as a professor, or maybe the owner of a bookshop. Something quiet, studious.

A server makes the rounds as they chat and Cody plucks a flute from a tray and hands it to her. She takes it with thanks. The bubbles tickle her tongue as she takes a drink. Something prickles at the periphery of her senses and she glances around, trying to figure it out what it might be. She shakes off the feeling and gives her full attention to the Marshall Commander in front of her.

“This isn’t either of our particular scenes, I believe. We’ve got to blend in somehow.” He holds up his own tumbler in show, amber liquid and round cubes of ice rolling around in its confines.

“That’s very true. I was afraid I’d get here and be relegated to a wallflower.”

“As if Padme would allow that,” he scoffs.

Mouse laughs again. “Are you always right, Cody?”

“Ask General Kenobi.”

Music plays quietly, a string quartet from Coruscant flown in for just the night, as Mouse falls in at Cody’s side. A few troopers in dress greys stop to chat for a moment here and there and Mouse dutifully smiles and offers polite conversation, laughs at the appropriate times. She recognizes some here and there, a scar or tattoo sticking out in her memory, all Commanders with the occasional Lieutenant thrown in for color. She feels the sensation again and can finally place it. It’s as if someone is watching her. Cody offers her a questioning look as she glances around again. She flashes a smile and shrugs. She was being silly. No one was watching her.

“Are you still sponsoring the little girl on Coruscant?” Cody asks, making polite conversation.

“Me’kar? Yes, I actually just received a comm from her guardian the other day. She’s doing well, picking up basic incredibly fast.” Mouse had started sponsoring the child shortly after her arrival, not able to get her bright smile and sweet eyes out of her mind. It wasn’t uncommon for the children’s home to accept sponsorships to supplement the small stipends they received from the Republic. It cost money to keep the children dressed and fed and extras could be more than the budget allotted for. Mouse was more than happy to do it and the updates and occasional holo from the little girl were bright notes in her week.

“Have you given more thought to adopting her?” Cody asks knowingly, as if it was a forgone conclusion.

“I’m still thinking.” Mouse shrugs. It wasn’t a decision to take lightly, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the little girl and what it would be like to come home to her everyday, to be a mother to a child that needed one. She’d once harbored a silly dream of a family with one clone commander and little Me’kar playing a starring role. Now she still thought of a family, but maybe just of two and not three. Cody glances over her shoulder, a smile splitting his features. Mouse turns and sees, arguably, the most beautiful Twi’lek woman in the galaxy wrapped in a body contouring dress that looks nearly painted on.

“Have you met General Secura? Let me introduce you. She may be able to answer some of the questions you have.”

———

Aayla Secura was wonderful. Mouse found herself completely enthralled with the twi’lek woman as she spoke of Ryloth, customs, and traditions. The Jedi didn’t think her idea of adopting Me’kar to be improper and encouraged her. Family was important for her people and she didn’t believe any child should grow up without the opportunity to have one.

“I would encourage you to fill out whatever application needs to be started immediately. Bring the little one here or raise her on Coruscant, either way it sounds like you’ve been thinking a great deal on it. You’ve asked such important questions. The rest is all just figuring things out as you go.”

Mouse can’t help the bright smile she flashes. Aayla glances over her shoulder as Mouse takes a swallow of her second glass of bubbly. It’s sweet on her tongue and reminds her of Fall orchard fruits, crisp and delightful. She’s just a little bit more relaxed than she’d been an hour ago as the alcohol works to relax her nerves when she thinks she feels eyes again. She’s quick to laugh it off as nerves - she hadn’t been around so many people in ages.

“Have you met my Commander Bly yet?”

Mouse wonders on “my” for a moment, but as soon as the Commander is at the Jedi’s side she wonders no more. He stands close, closer than to be expected and his hand rests along the cutout in the Jedi’s dress for just a moment longer than is proper as he greets her.

“I’m rounding up stragglers, sir,” he says with a half smile, turning and offering Mouse a nod. She holds out a hand and Aayla introduces her. Bly has a moment when his brows twitch up in unison before he takes her hand and shakes it gently. “If you ladies would care to, I believe we're supposed to take our seats for dinner.”

Bly offers his arm to his general and she slips hers through it, allowing him to guide her. Mouse follows a half a step behind as they move to the grand hall. Large round tables are set up under sparkling chandeliers. Mouse tries to break off to a smaller one, out of the way and to the side of the room, but it seems Cody has taken up the rear behind the trio. He takes her arm gently as she tries to veer off.

“I believe you were assigned a seat of importance, Sweetling.”

Mouse shakes her head. She really was only here because Padmé wouldn’t hear of her not being there. She tries to explain to Cody as Bly glances over his shoulder. A look passes between the two troopers.

“I’m sure there’s at least one seat left at the head table.”

Mouse watches as Aayla gives her Commander a questioning look. She swears she sees him wink.

She’s not watching where he guides her, still gently trying to plead her case. She looks to her left and sees Padmé smiling brightly and knows she won’t back her up in her decision to hide in the shadows. Cody pulls the chair out for her as she offers him a grumpy look. He chuckles and captures her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Mouse feels her cheeks flame, too flustered to come up with anything in response. She doesn’t pay attention to the set of greys next to her as Cody nods and she slides into her seat. Not until he walks to his own seat beside General Kenobi does Mouse turn to introduce herself.

And comes face to face with the Commander of the Coruscant Guard.

Fox is leaned back in his seat, brow raised in her direction. He radiates slow simmering irritation.

“I- I’m sorry” she doesn’t know why she’s apologizing. She had nothing to do with this. Her eyes dart around frantically trying to find any other option, an escape, but all the other seats are full and the last of the guests are taking their places at the other tables. If she got up now she’d only draw more attention to herself.

Fox says nothing as he turns back to his drink and Bly on his other side. Mouse stares down at her plate, her stomach already twisting into knots. She throws back her drink, downing the rest in one swallow. A passing waiter offers her another and she readily accepts. Maybe if she’s just a little bit drunk this wouldn’t be so bad.

Padmé clears her throat and all eyes fall to where she stands at the head of their table. She’s resplendent, of course, in a loose cream gown that drapes her in the most eye pleasing of ways. Even if she didn’t have an air about her that demanded attention, her wardrobe choice alone would have done the job.

“I’d like to begin by thanking everyone for their company on this lovely evening. As I’m sure you’ve heard,” she says as if she’s letting the room in on a grand secret, “we’ve recently welcomed our first children into the world.” The small gathered crowd laughs as if on cue. Mouse glances to the other tables. She didn’t know faces, but she’d dutifully typed all the names into the guest list Padmé had dictated. They were some of the most influential individuals in the outer rim. Padmé has thought to treat this evening as a soft unveiling of the plan she’d eventually propose to the senate. It was a test crowd of her peers. She’d use their reaction to modify and gauge where to go from here.

“Now,I find being a mother is much like being a senator. There is always something that needs doing and a mother’s work, much like a senators, is never done.” She offers a smile as she glances from one side of the room to the other.

“The men and women I have invited here today,” she gestures to the clones and Jedi around her “are very familiar, also, with work that never seems to be done. These are the Marshall Commander and Commanders who keep the Grand Army of the Republic afloat. They and their men risk their lives for a Republic which has given them nothing in return, and for that,” Padmé gives a gentle smile around the table, “I want to be the first to openly admit that we have done them a grave disservice.”

Mouse glances to see the wait staff lining up along the walls with the first course. She really does try to pay attention to what the senator has to say, but Fox is so close. She can imagine she wouldn’t have to move far to be back against his chest, feel his hot breath against her skin. Maybe he’d wrap his arm around her, hold her tight, whisper sweet things in her ear-

Maker, she was pathetic. Her stomach turns in agreement.

“Throughout this evening I hope each and every one of you enjoy yourselves, and I also hope that you take a moment to give these brave men some of the gratitude that we, as a Republic, have denied them for far too long. Something I hope we will begin to change in the not so distant future.”

Polite clapping erupts as staff circles the tables and places the first course in one impressively synchronized movement. As Padmé sits, her husband leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. Mouse looks away.

The food looks good. Or at least it should. Mouse had helped pick out the menu herself. Crudité, a small salad of exotic fruit, a light dressing. It should be perfect. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it if the sound of silver clinking against china meant anything. She takes a bite and chews carefully - it has all the depth and flavor of sawdust.

“I didn’t realize you had a type.”

Mouse glances at Fox who is firmly staring at his own plate, chewing as if nothing is amiss. He’d always looked good in his greys but he looks utterly delicious now. His hair is longer and his face is shaved clean of its usual five-o’clock shadow.

“Excuse me?” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t take you for a trooper chaser.”

The food very nearly gets stuck in her throat as she attempts to swallow. She takes a pull of wine from her glass, coughing lightly.

“Everything ok, Mous’ika?” Cody asks from across the table, concern evident.

Retrieving her napkin from her lap, Mouse covers her next cough. “I’m fine, Cody.” She tries to give him a reassuring look from behind the fabric. “Must have forgotten to chew,” she jokes awkwardly. At her side Fox makes a low sound. Cody glances between the pair of them for a moment before turning back to General Kenobi at his side.

“Cody,” Fox says, and Mouse catches the quick flash of brown eyes. “I seem to remember it took nearly a year for you to say my name. You’re moving faster.”

“Why are you saying this?” she questions. Why would he think such a thing? She hadn’t done anything that deserved such an accusation. He shrugs before turning to Bly and asking him a question about field munitions.

It leaves Mouse's head spinning. No one else seems to notice as they all speak quietly to one another.

“Commander Bly? General Secura?” Bail looks to the other side of the table and the pair. “What are your feelings on Senator Amidala’s personhood bill I sent you?”

“Far be it from me to dislike a law that makes me human,” Bly cracks. A round of laughter rises among the other troopers present. Aayla rolls her eyes at her Commander in an unmistakably fond way.

“What I believe the Commander is trying to say Chancellor, is that it is a more than welcome change to the status quo.”

“I was trying to say that?”

“Yeah, the vocabulary seems a bit past him,” Fox cracks dryly.

Aayla looks from one to the other. “Force I wish General Koon and Commander Wolffe could have been here. Maybe than you’d remember how to behave.”

“The ori’vod is the one who taught us,” Bly offers with faux indignation.

Obi-wan manages to smother a chuckle, though a smile still tugs at his lips. “Master Plo Koon sends his deepest apologies. The Wolffe pack is still firmly entrenched on their mission and he didn’t feel it appropriate to leave them.”

There’s a general consensus of agreement among the group. Mouse catches General Kenobi's occasional glances around the table, the majority of them falling between Commander Bly and his General.

“Senator Amidala,” he begins, his voice pensive, “How do you propose to introduce your personhood bill?”

Padmé gives a warm smile. She’d been waiting for this; Mouse can tell by the way her eyes sharpen and the slight quickening of her voice. “I think we need to show the public that it’s not only the GAR that stands behind the Clones, but also the Jedi Order as well.”

Mouse makes a small sound of dissent, feeling Fox adjust next to her.

“Mous’ika?” Cody questions, “Do you not agree with the senator?” Mouse looks embarrassed as she glances Padmé’s way, but the senator looks more curious than anything. Mouse gathers her thoughts while she finishes her glass of wine. A passing server goes to refill the glass but, at her side, Fox waves him off. She wants to glare at him, but all eyes are on her, waiting.

“I’m no politician, so I’m not sure my opinion should amount to anything,” she begins, “but general public opinion about the Jedi Order is not…” She looks apologetically at the few Jedi at the table “Well, it’s not good right now.”

There’s some concerned looks flying her way. Bless. It was easy to miss what was happening at home when one was in a war zone the majority of the time.

She reaches for where her wine should be and grabs a glass of water that hadn't been there a moment ago. She takes a sip before speaking again.

“It would be a poor decision to align solely with the Order on this one, I feel. Just a look at the holonews and you’ll see articles and op-eds questioning the Jedi’s involvement in the war.”

Fox clears his throat.

“She’s right” How sweet it was to hear those words. “We’re dealing with domestic terrorism on an unprecedented level. Nothing that we can’t handle but it’s something to take into consideration. The public feels like the Order has overstepped its bounds. It lacks policing of its own.” Fox holds up his hand when Obi-wan goes to speak. “While that may not be the case, in the court of public opinion the Order is guilty more than it is not.”

Mouse can feel him looking at her, handing the reins back over. “The average Coruscanti already is apprehensive of such a large military force within their presence. It’s going to take some doing to convince them to see the troopers as anything but soldiers awaiting orders” she finishes diplomatically.

There are speculative looks and nods around the table. “Much to think about,” Bail agrees, taking a slow sip of wine. His eyes linger between her and Fox for far longer than she likes. “Thank you.”

Mouse nods, her cheeks glowing hot from the attention. Her hand brushes against Fox’s as she sets it back down on the table. Her fool’s heart skips a beat when he doesn’t pull away immediately. She fights the urge to lace her little finger with his. Luckily, the next course comes and they both have to adjust to the changing of plates.

Her stomach is still turning in loops and food is still not something that sounds appealing in the slightest as the main course comes out. She doesn’t even remember what it’s supposed to be. It looks like it was probably delicious, roasted meat and delicate fresh vegetables sautéed to perfection. She takes a few testing bites but her plate remains mostly untouched.

“Quit pushing your food around and eat”. Of course she hasn’t forgotten Fox is sitting next to her. It must have been too much to hope he had forgotten about her.

Again, when she glances his direction he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. She doesn’t acknowledge he’s said anything and listens in quietly as the others at the table chat.

She takes another bite and chews slowly before swallowing.

“Come on, another,” he says. This time something is softer about his voice. When Mouse looks she sees him glancing at her.

Her chest tightens uncomfortably. Why did she give him the power to do this?

“Mouse.”

She thinks for a moment that she just might be imagining things. Under the table Fox’s booted foot knocks softly against hers letting her know she wasn’t. This wasn’t fair.

“Eat.” It’s a soft plea. He didn’t get to be soft with her anymore. He didn’t get to give orders. He’d lost those privileges.

“I’m not hungry.”

Fox’s head turns slowly at her words. “You could have fooled me. You look like a strong wind could blow you away.”

“Let it go, Commander. You're being ridiculous,” she manages to whisper under her breath. She doesn’t realize the table has gone quiet, that half a dozen or more pairs of eyes are watching them. Fox hasn’t either.

“There are faster ways to kill yourself than starvation. I’m sure you remember at least one other way.” The sudden acid in his voice hides the sound of frustration and strikes a direct hit.

Mouse has never considered herself a dramatic person, far from it really. So the rapidly rising urge to turn and punch him in the eye comes as a surprise. The anger behind it is soon replaced by mortification when she realizes that everyone has gone quiet.

Cody’s jaw is set into a tight line, the antithesis of Bly’s slackened one. Both Aayla and Bail are staring down at their plates. Mouse doesn’t look at the others.

Fox is frozen at her side, unmoving and unspeaking. Horror is dawning in his eyes as she pulls the napkin off her lap and places it in her still full plate.

His hand fumbles reaching for hers under the table but she skitters out of his reach.

“If you’ll excuse me?” She addresses the gathered group, “I’ll be back shortly.” Hot angry tears are already starting to swell in her eyes as she pushes away from the table and makes her way from the great room. She manages to keep it together until she’s in the guest wing. She doesn’t slide to the floor in a heap til she’s in her room.

She doesn’t return to dinner.

————

“You know I remember it all.”

The words catch Fox by surprise. He picks up the tumblr resting along the stone terrace wall and takes a drink as he looks at the Jedi - former Jedi- he didn’t even know what Anakin Skywalker was anymore.

“Congratulations?” Bitterness is already brewing in his gut. First Mouse and now this? Could it get any worse? Could a man not drink away his self-loathing in peace?

“The first time I met the Chancellor I was a child, but I remember it like it was just this morning. He smiled at me. It was like having someone see me for the first time. Like my Mother. Like Qui-Gon-“

Fox isn’t in the mood for this.

“-as I got older his attention focused on me. He honed me. Groomed me for something-“

“That’s great, sir, really.” He’d failed to hold back his acidic comments when Mouse had been near. Now that it was Skywalker he doesn’t even care to try.

“Shift it Fox and listen to what the kriff I’ve got to say.”

Fox brings the glass to his lips and finishes it in one long, slow pull before taking it and throwing it out into the placid lake below. It would have felt better had it smashed. The urge to break something has been simmering on the back burner all night. Skywalker was bringing it to a rapid boil.

“And what are you trying to say Jetii? Your life story means to me about as much as sith spit.”

Something dangerous flares in the other man’s eyes. “We’re the same, you and I.”

Fox barks a laugh, a bitter stagnant sound as he feigns turning away for just a moment only to spin right back. “You and I are nothing alike. Are you one of millions? Does your order see you as interchangeable battle fodder? Tell me your serial number, sir.”

“Your loyalty is unquestionable. You would do anything for the people you care about.” Anakin seems undeterred by Fox’s growing ire. “We both love women who are far stronger than we gave them credit for-“

“Shut up.” Fox’s voice is low, a warning growl from a wounded animal. He’d already hurt someone he’d claimed to love, said something ugly and cruel. It wouldn’t take much effort to get him to throw a swing against the man in front of him.

“-we think we know best. Sometimes we do. Then we let our own ego get in the way and we hurt the ones we love with our good intentions.”

“What about shut up don’t you understand?” Fox takes a step forward, chest out. He wants this to escalate.

“What I don’t understand is how you can take a girl like her and purposefully hurt her. I watched her put a blaster to her-“

“ENOUGH!” Any cool Fox had left vanishes as he closes the space between them. His finger jabs into the other man’s chest, punctuating his point. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to talk about that night.”

How dare he. In the end, who was he but Sidious’s favorite lap dog? Rage boils over as Anakin steps into the jabbing finger, making Fox take an unwanted step back.

“Yeah? You want to go there? Pretty sure I remember being there just as much as you were. I was also there when your blaster killed Fives.”

Fox can’t hide the way he flinches at the name.

Anakin takes a slow even breath before he speaks again. “Fox, I’m not going to say I didn’t want to turn the damn thing on you and put two through your composite -Jedi way be damned- but I can look back and remember what your face looked like. When you stepped in the corner where you didn’t think anyone could see? You didn’t want to shoot Fives. You didn’t want to kill your brother.”

Fox closes his eyes, tipping his head up toward the night sky.

“She knew that too-“

“You think I don’t realize what she was doing? You think I don’t realize she was ready to sacrifice herself so I didn’t have to kill someone else I - “ He opens his eyes focusing back on the Jedi.

“But you didn’t feel her in the Force like I did. I was as much of a mess as any of us but you know what I felt coming from her?”

Fox shakes his head. He doesn’t want to know.

“Resolve. Love and resolve. She would have done anything to keep you safe. She was the only steady one of us all.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” He’d seen it in Mouse’s eyes, that decision she’d made and would have followed through with. For him. The nightmares where she had to follow through still found him, the ones with her wide eyes staring up blank and glassy while smoke rose in tendrils from her head.

“Because we're the same. Our love was used as fuel for manipulation. It was a tool to gain our compliance. I saw a future where Padmé died. Over and over and Palp- Sidious made me think I could stop it. If I did what he said I could stop it all. Then he was dead and I still had the dream. But you know what? She would have died at my hands because of me, because of my blind, fumbling attempt to prevent it in the first place and my children -” Emotion swells in his voice.

“When I watched you tonight, when I heard what you said, I saw those very blind steps I had been taking all over again. Stop it, Fox. She doesn’t deserve it.” Anakin stops and takes a deep breath,

“You don’t deserve it. Let the pain stop.”

Fox drags himself away from the Jedi, turning his back to stare out at the expanse of water below. “There’s no fixing what I’ve done”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“And I think you’re a fool.”

———-

Fox feels spent. Physically and emotionally exhausted, riding the fallout of an adrenaline surge down to rock bottom after his confrontation with Skywalker.

He’s ready for bed. He needs a solid six hours of sleep. Maybe a coma?

He wasn’t pleased with the continued attempts by others to force something with Mouse that was obviously not meant to be. He wasn’t pleased with his own behavior in response to it. He wasn’t a Hutuun, but he had certainly acted like one. Honestly, he'd rather take the butt of a blaster to his head as opposed to thinking about it anymore.

He tried to think of something else. Personhood. Not in a million lifetimes did Fox think someone as powerful as the Chancellor of the Republic or one of its most brilliant senators would take up the torch for him and his brothers. It was bound to be a controversial bill but after listening to Bail and Padmé speak, it didn’t seem so overwhelming. It was a real possibility that the end of the war wasn’t going to mean the proverbial scrap heap. The end of the war could mean citizenship, recognition, lives outside of battle and the GAR.

The thought left him a little lightheaded - or maybe that was the Alderaanian wine that had been flowing.

He tries to rein in his excitement at the thought. If Fox had learned one thing in his time in Coruscant and among politics it was that politicians were exceptionally good at dragging their shebs when it came to anything good. It would require finesse and more than a little debate for the good Senator to see her plans to fruition. If anyone could do it, it was Padmé. The time frame in which she could do it was up for debate. Fox raises a brow as he looks down the hall. If the sound coming from General Secura’s room meant anything, there was some very brisk debating going on between the General and her Commander.

Fox tries not to look at Mouse’s door as he goes to his own. He tries not to think about what personhood would mean for his vode that had broken regs and found something to fight for outside of the GAR.

Fox is barely in his door, already bending to remove his boots when he hears it, a soft plaintive voice in the hall. It’s instantly familiar. He’s already cursing himself. He’d done enough to her tonight. Obviously, he’d proven that he couldn’t be in the same room without hurting her. He hears her voice again and he’s pulling the door open without a second thought.

Mouse is leaning half in the hallway. “Hello?”

The disaster that had been dinner flashes in his mind's eye as do Skywalker’s words from a short time ago.

Let the pain stop.

Clearing his throat, he steps into the hall.

“Oh Maker...” it’s not the exact thing he was hoping to hear as she laid eyes on him, but he’s sure it’s no less than he deserves. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”

Fox gives her an appraising look. Her cheeks were hot and flushed even before she’d seen him and the gown she’d worn to dinner is still firmly in place. Her gentle eyes are rimmed in red. She looks just as stunning as she had a few hours ago.

The foundation his resolve has been built upon continues to crumble.

He chides himself. That foundation had never been strong, not when he’d asked Bail to transfer her, not when he’d seen her in her hospital room, certainly not when she’d given him the cold shoulder earlier when they’d arrived. It seemed everything about Mouse worked to destroy the barrier he’s tried to erect between them.

“What’s wrong?” He asks gruffly. He’s tired from travel and of the mental gymnastics he’d been putting himself through. Mostly though he was tired of feeling like he was fighting with both her and himself.

Mouse's eyes dart each way down the hallway as if looking for someone else to save the day. She isn’t that lucky. A particularly loud moan coming from Secura’s room emphasizes that point.

“My dress-“ a new wave of red blooms in her cheeks, “the zipper is stuck. I’ve been trying for nearly an hour and…” She glances down at the floor and her bare feet. He hates that she won’t look at him but he’s done nothing to earn that honor now has he?

He huffs taking a breath and a leap. “If you don’t hate the idea of my help, I’m willing to offer it.”

Mouse's eyes slowly rise back to his. “I-“ she’s making a decision as well. He can see it written across her face. Maker, he thinks, please give me this one chance.

“Yes. Please.” She stutters out her answer, pulling away from the door frame and moving into the suite. She glances over her shoulder as she moves as if she’s afraid he wouldn’t actually follow.

Mouse stops near a small dressing table with brushes and makeup laid out on its top. A full size mirror is immediately to its side. She watches him in the reflection. It’s the first time since the hospital on Coruscant that Fox has been alone with her. That feels like so long ago, another life and time. They’re two different people now.

He steps carefully into her space as if one off movement would spook her and this would all end. This close he can smell the soft floral perfume she’s dabbed on. He can feel the heat radiating from her. Equal parts comfort and temptation rolled in one.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says suddenly. Skywalker’s words haunt him. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did.” Mouse’s head cocks to the side as she watches him.

“Why did you then? I’m certainly not Cody’s type and-“

“And what?”

She steals herself. Fox can see the deep breath she takes before she speaks again, “even if I was, my interest will always lie elsewhere.”

The meaning of her words strike home. “Me? After everything?”

“It was always you.” She admits softly.

She still- she still cared for him? After everything? After he’d nearly killed her. After he left her maimed. After he pushed her away over and over.

More of the wall crumbles. All he’d have to do now is take one big step and he could be over it.

“So, this zipper you were talking about?” He deflects, needs another minute to think because there's too much to sort through and he can’t make more mistakes. Not with Mouse. Not with them.

She nods softly toward her left side, pulling her arm forward to show the jammed apparatus. Fox closes his eyes. Her scars stand proudly from under the thin straps of her dress. When he opens them he catches Mouse watching him in the reflection, her look is sad.

“I can find someone else-“

His hand immediately drops to her hip as she tries to walk away, pulling her back and erasing the laughable space in between them. The shock shows on both of their faces.

“Easy,” he manages, and after a moment she settles against him. His thumb rubs small circles over her waist and he’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe her or himself. “I’m just coming up with a plan of action.” That draws a small smile from her but it’s all the encouragement he needs. “You need help taking your hair down?” He turns his head, the tip of his nose brushing against the soft strands still secured in their up-do.

It’s an absolute sithshit question, she had two working arms she could remove all the pins and clips herself, they both know this. Fox just wants- he wants more time. He wants to be ready to look at the damage he’s done and not feel repulsed by it. To maybe, just maybe, not hate himself when he looks at it.

“I- yeah, that would be helpful.” She says quietly after a moment. She sits on the stool in front of the mirror, her eyes following his actions with apprehension and curiosity. Fox takes a steadying breath and begins.

He’s never done this before, that is to say done anything more than held hairpins passed to him by senators like Padme and Chuchi on a transport after an event when they complained of the intricate styles giving them headaches or had simply needed to feel free of the bindings of senate formality. He’s seen enough though, and begins to work slowly from the base of her skull working up to the crown of her head. Mouse holds out her hand and he drops the thin pins in as he goes. As her hair begins to spill down, he watches her transform before his eyes back into the mouse he’d always known. Loose waves frame her face, still painted to perfection. Her red lips part and a soft breath escapes her as he massages his fingers along her scalp. Tension melts from her shoulders and she begins to lean back into him as his fingers rake through her hair, untangling strands until they slip smoothly through her fingers.

“You're going to make me fall asleep if you keep that up,” she says finally. The ghost of a smile crosses his face.

“Come on then. Stand up. Let’s get this thing undone before you have to sleep in it.” The stool is pushed to the side as she stands, and Fox moves a half a step back so he can see what he’s doing.

“The chain,” she says softly, catching his attention. “Unclasp it first, before the zipper. I can’t reach that at all.”

The thin gold chain hangs low on her bare back, spanning the distance between the straps of her dress. It glitters temptingly in the light, just like it had when he’d seen it earlier at dinner, when his mouth had gone dry at the mere sight of her.

Fox meets her eyes in the mirror as his hand moves softly from her right hip, up and over her back. His fingers drag feather-light over the bare skin they find. Mouse's eyes flutter shut and he can see her inhale deeply. Her skin was still as soft as he remembered. He gently scoops her hair to one side, over her right shoulder. Her eyes are still closed.

“Breathe, precious girl,” he orders softly, fighting a wince at the pet name that slips out. If Mouse cares, she doesn’t let on. She exhales slowly, opening her eyes at the end. Her pupils take a moment to adjust back to the light. “Am I ok?” he asks quietly.

“Are you?” There’s no heat or snark in her words. She’s staring at him, genuinely curious.

“I think so.” His fingers find the tiny gold catch holding the chain in place and it opens with ease.

“Can you- do you think you can do the zipper. If it’s too much to look at I-“

Fox stops her with a low sound. She hadn’t looked unsure or self conscious in the gown she wore all night. He wasn’t going to be the one to make her question it now. He’d already done enough.

“I’m good.”

He gently presses her left arm forward to gain access. He takes a steading breath as he looks down. The scarring spills across her shoulder, two shades lighter than her normal skin tone. He’s seen plenty of burns in his career and this wasn’t the worst but it feels like it is because he was the cause of it. A few centimeters more and he would have missed her entirely. A few centimeters the other way and-

His fingers move to the gown, easily plucking open the hook and loop closure at the top of the zipper. Mouse sucks in a sharp breath as the tips of his finger skim along the bare skin there.

“Is this ok?” he asks. She nods mutely. “I need words, Mouse,” he urges as gently as he can muster.

“It’s good.” Her voice wavers slightly as she speaks, “Go- go ahead.”

Fox can hear his heart beating in his skull. He can hear the rush of air through his lungs. Everything feels loud as his fingers slowly work at the jammed zipper. Mouse’s breathing is shallow as his fingers press into her, as they pull and twist until whatever has been keeping the closure jammed comes loose and it slides down. His fingers trail behind the zipper as it falls open.

He looks up to find her eyes on him again in the mirror's reflection. Her pupils are blown wide and her lips are parted. Fox feels the beginning wave of blood rush to his groin, the surge only becoming stronger as Mouse slowly - carefully - reaches up and slides the right strap of her gown down. She doesn’t look away from his reflection as her hand trails across her collarbone to the left strap. She pauses as if waiting for him to tell her to stop.

Fox puts the tips of his fingers over hers and together they lower the strap. He can see the rest of the scar now, can really get a feel for the size and the shape of it. It’s glossy compared to the surrounding area, as if her skin had been pulled too tight and frozen that way. She slides her fingers from the strap - laying flat against her lower arm - up, bringing his fingers along with it.

“Does it hurt?” The question slips out as her fingers glide over the surface.

“Not usually. It pulls sometimes,” she says softly, “They both do. I use lotion, try to get it massaged a couple times a day.” Fox’s eyes lock on hers. “The other option was worse.”

That’s right. She could be dead. He’s tried not to think of that the last few months, so trapped in his own guilt about hurting her that each time the psych droid brought it up he immediately countered with how she wasn’t and she had to live with what he’d done to her.

“Can I…?” He glances down and then back up. Mouse gives him a tense smile and a nod.

It feels different from how skin is supposed to feel. It feels thicker, less textured missing the fine hair that covered the rest of her arm. He traces the outline of it. It had only been glancing, the distal part of her shoulder taking the brunt of the burn from the bolt. His fingers map out the boundaries twice before he comes to a stand still.

He doesn’t want to stop touching her.

“Where’s your lotion?”

She doesn’t question him. He can see it in her eyes, in the split second of hesitation. She doesn’t want this to stop either.

One arm moves across her chest to hold her gown in place while the other reaches to the dressing table and wraps around a bottle. Fox takes it when offered and squeezes a small amount into his hand.

He’s taking that step over his wall, he realizes. It doesn’t feel like much of an obstacle anymore anyway as it lays in crumbles at his feet.

Her skin is warm under his touch, no real difference between the good tissue and the scarred as far as temperature is concerned. He works the lotion into her skin pressing his thumb in firm circles from the edges to the center. Mouse lets out a tiny sigh and it’s becoming more difficult to ignore the desire roiling in his belly.

“Fox…” he hums in response to the soft moan of his name, “it feels so good.”

“I missed you, Cyar’ika.” He offers tentatively as he presses in close, aligning her back against his chest. His free arm wraps around her waist holding her lightly against him. His hand falls away from her skin and his mouth descends to pepper soft kisses. She was warm. She was alive. she could be dead but she wasn’t and in the end it was because of his actions that he could still hold her, still hear the soft hitch in her breath as he sucks gently at the juncture where her shoulder and neck meet.

Mouse’s head tips, offering him more room. Her arm falls away from her dress and reaches back behind her, cradling the back of Fox’s while he sucks a mark into her skin. A sea of red flutters to the floor as the dress falls. Fox growls as he looks up and sees the pair of them, him still in his greys and her naked except for a small lacy pair of red panties. His red. From there his eyes travel up, finding the other shot he fired.

The scarring to her right flank is worse than the shoulder; he can see the puckered skin and the patterned appearance of healed grafting but he doesn’t feel the wave of guilt he’s felt earlier. She was alive and hot in his arms.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands quietly against her skin, “make me stop.”

Mouse’s hips press back against the hard line of his erection straining in his greys. Another low growl spills from his lips as he spins her around. Her lips are on his in an instant, messy and desperate as she presses up and into him. Her teeth pull at his lower lip. “Fox…”

His hands cradle her face as he slots his mouth over hers, breathing in the air she gives him like a gift from Fett himself. He can feel the press of her breasts against his chest, the way her hands wrapped around him and gripped at his back.

It was a dream. It had got to be. If it was, it was the first good one he’d had in months. Mouse whines quietly as his hands slide down and grips her hips as if they were the only thing tethering him to this reality. It’s too much and he should stop but he can’t because what he should do and what he wants to do are too wildly incompatible. His fingers graze over the pebbled skin of her right flank. Mouse inhales sharply.

“Stop.” The word leaves her mouth with sudden desperation, like it had been pulled from her body unwillingly. It’s like a bucket of cold water thrown over Fox as he jerks away.

Mouse turns from him, shaking her head as she snatched up a robe and quickly wraps it around herself. They’re both panting quietly.

He’d done something wrong, misread her signals. He was scum. He was an idiot. He should-

“I can’t do this again” She’s still breathless when she speaks, ruby lipstick smeared over swollen lips. “Fox look at me.” She demands quietly when he tries to turn away. “You can’t do this to me again.”

“Do what?” He can hear the desperation in his voice, he sounds pathetic.

She looks at him for a moment before she moves closer to him. He wants to turn away. He doesn’t want to hear how he’s ruined everything, how everything has become clear but it was now too late.

Her hand comes up softly to his cheek as she looks at him through dark lashes. Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“You can’t make me want you again, not if you're going to push me away when things get hard.” She has her free arm crossed over her chest. Her tone isn’t as strong as her words. They waiver as they fall from her lips.

He wants to make her every promise in the book before he even knows if he can keep them and it’s not about getting his dick wet.

He misses her. Has missed her every single day since the horrible event in the Chancellor’s office.

He misses her smile - the soft one she saved just for him. He misses the way she viewed the world from a different but similar way he did. He misses planning for a future with her even if he hadn’t told her any of it. Most of all he misses the quiet moments, the times when they would just lay together and enjoy being near one another.

“It was all for you Cyar’ika.” He says with force, as if he said it sure enough he’d convince her that every action he’d ever made in regards to her was completely selfless.

“Kriff” she curses, shaking her head. Her hand falls away and he misses the warm feeling of her skin against his, “you of all people-“ she mutters under her breath before speaking clearly.

“I get to make choices Fox. When it comes to my life, I get to weigh the risks and benefits and I get to make choices. You took that away from me. Have I loved being here?” she asks, gesturing around at the sumptuous suite, “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t, but would I have rather been with you? Do you know that answer.”

Fox shakes his head.

“That’s right! Because you never asked. The truth is I would have rather been with you every minute of every day of the last three months. Doing paperwork, writing schedules, reviewing supply requisitions, it wouldn’t have mattered because I’d have been with you.”

“Cyar’ika, I didn’t-“

“No Fox, you didn’t think.” She sniffs lightly, her eyes bright with unshed tears, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life and you pushed me away. You turned your back on me when I needed you and now? Now you’re here and we fall into our old patterns? Not again. Not unless you can promise me you are in this 100% because I can’t do it again. My heart just can’t.”

Fox reaches out and swipes a trailing tear with his thumb “I-“ She leans into his touch, her cheek resting against his palm as her eyes drift shut. Just one second. she allows herself that. She straightens and steps away before his eyes can memorize the image of her.

“No, don’t say anything right now. Leave. Think. Decide what it is you really want. If it’s me you can find me and let me know.” There’s a finality to her words that has him biting back any response he may have made. She steps into him, rising up on her toes and gently bumping her forehead against his own.

“I do love you,” he says quietly.

Mouse blows out a ragged breath. “I know. You just need to decide if that’s going to be enough.” She moves toward the door, opening it. “Goodnight Fox.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox/reader #tcw

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silvereddaye · 4 years

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Two Babies and the 501st

This is a WIP. I may not do anything else with it, but I’d like to. The concept is what if Luke and Leia as babies somehow time travel back to the Clone Wars in the middle of battle. The clones have to take care of these mysterious babies who are supposedly the children of their general. Hijinks ensue. (PS I haven’t proof read this at all. So there could be a lot of mistakes.)

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Anakin walked into the base of the 501st after a successful battle. They hadn’t won the war for this planet yet. That was still quite a ways off. The Separatists had dug in deep. Luckily there weren’t many settlements here. The planet was mostly mining and lumber camps. There weren’t even large factories to process the raw materials. Everything was shipped off the planet as soon as they collected it. But the resource-rich planet was needed on both sides of this war and neither one wanted to let it go to the other. That was why General and Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker, was there with his clone troops. He would free this planet.

Well after a meal, a sonic shower, and some sleep. He didn’t want to look over reports. He didn’t want to send a report to the Jedi Council. He just wanted some rest. His body felt heavy. His Jedi robes were dusty and singed. He stretched as he walked through the base. Clones saluted or nodded hello. He had a good rapport with his men, but they seemed to be staring. Anakin looked himself over. He didn’t have any large bleeding wounds. He still had all of his clothes and his lightsaber. He patted his head. His hair was there. He slowed down his pace. Yes. The clones were staring at him.

He groaned and altered course. Something was going on or had happened and the rumor mill had already caught hold of it. He didn’t want to wake up several hours later having to deal with the fallout of old gossip or updated plans. He made his way to the command building but stopped as he noticed Captain Rex jogging over to him.

“General, sir!” Rex said as he came to a stop. “You’re needed in the medics’ hall.”

“Is something wrong? Is it Ahsoka? Did she--”

“Commander Tano is fine, sir,” Rex said. “But it’s uh . . . Well uh . . . the men on patrol in the east valley they uh . . . You need to come see this for yourself, sir.”

Anakin nodded and made his way towards the long thin building where the medics had set up. It was odd to see Rex so flustered. He wondered what could have possibly twisted the captain’s tongue up. The closer he got to the medics, the more the clones seemed to be staring at him. A few even whispered to a fellow trooper when they saw him. Oh. There was definitely something up. Something to do with him, but what had he done? He was almost tempted to spin around and demand answers from Rex, who was following directly behind him. But he kept walking.

He entered the medics’ hall. There was a row of thin metal medical beds lining one wall. Beyond that were tables and stations for the medics to work. There was a group of clones crowded around something back there. He could just make out the tips of Ahsoka’s montrals among the crowd.

“Alright men, what’s the problem?”

A hush fell among all of them at once. They all turned around to face them. Their eyes were wide. It wasn’t fear or concern, but curiosity? What in the Force was going on? Then he heard it. A cry. A very distinctive cry. A cry that clones did not and could not make. It was not a cry from Ahsoka. It was a cry of a baby. The clones parted as he rushed forward.

On the table were two babies dressed in off-white onesies. They were both fair-skinned humans. They were the same size and looked very similar. One baby had lighter hair than the other, but that was all Anakin noticed that was different. Everyone was silent and watching him. The only noise was from the lighter-haired baby.

“Where did these come from?” Anakin asked waving his hand at the babies.

Humans weren’t the colonizers on this planet. It was mostly Sullustans, Wookies, and a few Tarros. He hadn’t seen any reports of humans on the planet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t any.

“We found them in a box, sir,” one clone said. “In the east valley. All alone. No one around for miles.”

Who would leave two babies near an active war zone?

“There, uh, was a note sir. Addressed to you.”

“Me?”

Someone passed him a folded piece of flimsi paper. Written on it in neat handwriting he didn’t recognize was his own name: Anakin Skywalker. He flipped the paper open. The note read: These are your children. Luke and Leia. His eyes snapped back up to the babies. Babies! He absentmindedly put the note on the table as he placed both his hands down flat and leaned over. He looked down at the children.

It was . . . It was impossible!

“This is impossible!” he said as he leaned away. “These aren’t my children! I have never . . . never . . .”

“Never what?” Ahsoka asked with a huge grin.

Anakin’s cheeks flushed red.

“It’s impossible,” he repeated. It was! The only person he had ever slept with was Padme! And there was no way these were her children! She wouldn’t have left them in a battlefield! Plus she was never pregnant.

“We could do a quick DNA test,” a medic offers.

“Why would we do that?” Anakin asked. “There is no way these are my children!” It was clear no one else believed him. They were are skeptical. Even Ahsoka. “Fine!” he shouted. “Let’s prove they aren’t mine.”

The results stated that 1.) the babies were siblings and 2.) Anakin Skywalker was their father. Which was still impossible.

“I don’t . . . How . . . I mean I never have slept with . . . Who . . . “ Anakin rambled as he paced back and forth in the back of the hall. Ahsoka had the girl baby, Leia, in her arms. She was feeding her a bottle. Apparently, whoever had left the babies, had also thought to pack their box with formula and diapers. One of the clones had the other baby. The clone smiled as the baby nodded off. “They’re clones or something,” Anakin muttered. “Or somehow someone got my blood or genes and made some babies in test tubes because there is no way, no way!, these babies came about naturally. That is for sure!”

“Did you want to hold her?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin froze as he looked at his padawan and . . . and . . . daughter? No. No, he wasn’t going to think of these babies like that. They were not his. There had been an error.

“No,” he said. “I uh . . . Gotta go make a report to the Council.”

He rushed past the babies without looking at them and out of the hall. It felt like every kriffin’ clone was looking at him. Did they know? They had to know. Juicy gossip travels fast. The officers and troopers in the command room were professional if they knew. No one gave him any long or odd looks. He didn’t pause. He marched straight to the comms room, told the officer on duty to leave, and immediately dialed up the council on the large blue holotable. It didn’t take long for the blue hologram of Obi-Wan to show up. He was thank-the-Force alone.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “How did your attack on--”

“There are babies,” Anakin blurted out.

Obi-Wan blinked. “Babies?”

“Two babies. Twins. A patrol found them. They had been abandoned here. There was, uh, a note saying so. The clones brought them here. We can’t keep babies here. I need a transport to lift them out.”

“Anakin, the Separatists have put up a blockade around that system to prevent any supplies from reaching you and your men. We can’t get a transport in, much less out again.”

He knew that. He totally, completely knew that, but had just forgotten it for a moment. Kriff.

“What am I going to do?”

“Where is the closest settlement? You could drop them off there?”

“What? No! I can’t do that!”

“Why not? You said it yourself. You can’t keep babies there. They’ll be much safer in a camp. Probably someone will adopt them.”

His heart was tight. He didn’t want the babies, or well he did want babies. He wanted lots of babies with Padme, but this was a different matter. He didn’t want these babies right now, but he couldn’t stomach just giving them away. They were . . . supposedly his.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes. I’ll deal with it.”

He clicked the call off before another word could be said, because the only “deal with it” Anakin could think of was he was going to keep the babies. With his army. During a war.

#my writing #wip #Anakin Skywalker #501st #clones #Ahsoka Tano #babies

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ayashiki-i-i · 4 years

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So tumblr decided to eat the original but you know what, fuck this website it will not break my spirit so here’s a second try! As I continue being obsessed with an AU I’m slowly building in my head where everything and everyone is happy, here’s another addition. Despite everyone telling Leia fighting with two lightsabers when she hasn’t mastered one is crazy hard, she’s stubborn and if her master is using two savers, so will she. Meanwhile, Luke is trained by Anakin himself. Which… Didn’t go over so well at first… Little ficlet to go with this under the cut

Anakin didn’t expect to be woken before seven on Saturday - his first weekend with a new padawan no less - and he definitely didn’t expect to see his old apprentice when he, yawning and rubbing his face, finally dragged himself to the door at the incessant beeping of his doorbell.

Ahsoka stood with her hands on her hips, on foot tapping the floor impatiently. Bad sign.

“Snips,” he said, sliding down the doorframe. “What do I owe the… Displeasure?”

The foot tapping increased. Abort, abort.

“You,” she said with a powerful jab of a finger into Anakin’s chest. “Need to fix my padawan!”

Ah. Well. That wasn’t a surprise.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do,” he said, rubbing his face again.

“She thinks you abandoned her! I want you to talk to her and assure her that you still love her and tell her I’m waiting in the training room seven when you’re done, because it’s been a week of her sulking and we really need to start on the lightsaber forms!”

“But it’s Saturday,” he whined and immediately lifted his hands palm up at Ahsoka’s stormy expression.

“And that’s a reason to ignore your daughter?” She asked, making Anakin wince. “My padawan refuses to talk to me and it’s your fault! Talk to Leia, now! She’s in the meditation garden on the second floor.”

With that, Ahsoka turned on her heel, her head tails swishing around her, and started a determined, brisk walk down the corridor.

“Ahsoka!”

“Fix this, Sky-guy!” She only yelled back, the “or you’ll regret it” heavily implied, and disappeared around the corner.

With yet another yawn and a sigh Anakin returned into his quarters and began a hunt for clean robes.

Most of the time he was proud of the strong, determined, assertive woman Ahsoka had become. Most of the time.

Twenty minutes later, with sloppily tied robes and having made sure he left a message on Luke’s comm in case his son woke up before he made it back, Anakin was trudging down the endless corridors that made up approximately eighty percent of the Temple.

Truthfully, he knew he should’ve talked to Leia a week ago, when he claimed Luke for his padawan, and Ahsoka claimed Leia for hers with Anakin’s blessing. He should’ve talked to her a month ago, when he’d made the decision. But he was scared. Normally he would go to his old master with something like this, but Obi Wan has been on a mission to the Outer Rim for the past month. Normally he would also go to his wife, but Padme had departed to a long overdue visit to Naboo last week, and even if he commed her, she would only give him the Raised Eyebrow of the Doom, her parting words to him being: “Talk to Leia!”

He stood in front of the garden for a moment, convincing himself he was not scared of his teenage daughter, and then entered.

He found Leia easily, sat curled on the floor under a giant fern. Her back was to him and she mist’ve heard him approach, but she didn’t look at him, and so he took another moment looking at his daughter.

Anakin always loved the gardens. From the first moment he stepped into the Jedi Temple as a child, they were his favourite place. They were climate controlled, and always the perfect temperature, pleasantly humid and green, so, so green. He often thought his childhood spent in the desert was what resulted in his love for everything green. But Leia, raised on Coruscant and Naboo, shared the same innate delight in everything damp and alive, while Luke couldn’t care less.

It was that thought that finally made him lower his body next to Leia. She was his, in a different way to Luke, and she knew it. No wonder she felt betrayed. Ahsoka was right. He had to fix this.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Leia replied, sulky, but she didn’t ignore him. A good sign.

“A little snippy bird told me you’ve been ignoring your master. And your lessons. I thought you wanted to become a master of the Jar’Kai form by the end of the year.”

Leia only shrugged.

“Okay,” Anakin sighed. So it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Let’s try this. I will guess what’s the problem, and you nod your head when I’m right. You don’t want Ahsoka to be your master, correct?”

Leia slowly nodded her head.

“But you love Ahsoka!” Anakin exclaimed.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you’d just pawn me off to her first chance you get!” Leia mumbled into her knees.

“I didn’t pawn you off! Leia, you know if I could train you and Luke both, I would. I tried to bring it up with the Council, but they wouldn’t let me. I tried to get Obi Wan to take on Luke, but he straight up refused to train another Skywalker.”

Leia gave a little snort, but it was immediately followed by a sniff.

“But why did you have to pick Luke?”

Leia finally looked at him, and her big, brown eyes were filled with tears. That’s when Anakin knew he really messed up.

“Because Luke needs me more,” he said, truthfully.

It was a good answer. Leia’s nose crinkled in that way it always did when someone compared her to her brother favourably.

“But I thought we were a team,” she said.

“We are a team! Just because Luke is my padawan and you’re Ahsoka’s, I won’t stop training with you, and we will request as many missions together as we can.”

What he didn’t tell Leia was that another reason why he decided to train Luke was because Leia was too stubborn for him. Too wild. Too ambitious. Too much like him. He knew he would only encourage her worst habits - while Ahsoka could nurture them to bloom into something beautiful. Just as Luke’s more timid, sweet nature needed Anakin to push him and challenge him.

And Anakin wasn’t fool. He knew his children needed the best training and he knew who could provide it.

“Was there really no one else to train Luke though?”

“No,” Anakin said firmly.

There was interest, of course, in both of his children, but there were few among the Jedi Anakin trusted.

Leia sniffed a little again, but her eyes were mostly dry now.

“You knew this was going to happen for a while.”

Anakin sighed.

“I did,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” Anakin said honestly. “I didn’t want you to dread your padawanship. I didn’t want you to think with that, you will loose your family. Which you won’t,” he added firmly. “You know me and your mother will be still here for you.”

That was always Anakin’s priority, from the moment almost eleven years ago when he stood in front of the council and announced his and Padme’s plan for their children. And however hard it was to come to the agreements with the Jedi over the years, Anakin stood firm. He was determined for his children to have family, and he would move entire planets to achieve that.

It was going to be even more complicated from now on, what with padawans required to be by their master’s side at all times. For now Padme was going to take several long trips to Naboo, which needed its senator’s attention anyway, to give time for Luke and Leia to settle into the new situation without knowing their mother is five minute transport ride away and unable to go see her. And then there will be missions and they’ll be off-planet for long stretches of time anyway. And when on Coruscant, Ahsoka readily agreed to stay at Padme’s apartment so the Skywalker-Naberrie family could have some time together. They already set up a guest room for her.

That was one of the reasons why Anakin wanted her - or Obi Wan, or, ideally, both - to train his children. There weren’t many Jedi who would agree to such arrangement, and fewer yet Anakin would allow into his home.

“I know what people say about me and Luke,” Leia mumbled. “I think maybe they want us to hear.”

“And what do they say?” Anakin asked, resigned.

He knew what people whispered. The gossip in the Jedi Temple was relentless, but the always thought people would have the decency to be at least quiet around his children. Apparently not. But then, many Jedi were not as half kind as they thought.

“That we are a mistake,” Leia said, simple and cruel.

“You’re not..”

“But did you ever think it would be better if you and mum just ran away? Or… If you ran away from us? That it would be better, to not have children?”

Leia’s lip wobbled a bit, and Anakin’s answer came out fast and jumbled together in his haste to assure the girl.

“Never. Never, ever did I regret you. I promise you, Leia. The day your mother told me she was pregnant was the happiest day in my life, and I loved you both ever since,” he said. “I thought, we thought, long and hard about what kind of life we will live, and you will live, but there was never a question that it will be together, all of us. I thought for a moment to run away, as far from the Jedi as possible, but… You’re strong, Leia. You and Luke are so strong… You know that.”

And she did. His daughter didn’t lack self-confidence in her abilities, and Anakin’s frank admission was not going to blow her ego. Well. Not too much anyway.

“I knew you needed training, and I didn’t know if I could handle you. I didn’t know if I could give you the tools you need to handle yourselves. I knew you needed the Jedi. But that was a choice, Leia, I want you to always know that. You were never a mistake - you were always what i chose, and I keep choosing, and I never regretted this choice,” Anakin said as firmly as possible. “And if in the next five years, or after you’ve finished your training,” he gently pulls at Leia’s padawan braid, clumsily braided and so much longer than Luke’s, and she lets him easily, “of few years into being a Jedi, you decide it’s not what you want to be, and leave the Order to do something else, you will have had the option, and you will be prepared to do whatever you want, with the Force or not.”

That was the first thing Anakin demanded from the council all those years ago, in exchange for them to be able to poke their noses into his children’s lives. The promise that even if in childhood the Temple will control their power, one day it will become their responsibility. One day they will be free.

Leia’s eyes are big and trusting, and Anakin has never regretted the decisions that led them all here less.

“And if you hear people whispering behind your back again.. Well. You have a lightsaber now. You know how to use it. You will learn to use it better,” Anakin grins. “If you can’t get people to respect you, strike fear into their hearts.”

Leia grins back, sharp and a little dangerous and Anakin laughs, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in.

“See, if you were my padawan, I couldn’t tell you this. But as only your dad… I can continue giving you bad advice.”

Leia giggled and snuggled under his chin, and Anakin knows things will be okay.

He’s always known. Leia is so strong, so independent. She took up living in the crèche for the week few years ago with great enthusiasm, while it took Luke over a month to stop crying daily, despite Anakin visiting several times every day. She never hesitated to volunteer for interplanetary excursions, even if it meant sacrificing the weekend at home, while Luke never missed the chance to be away from the Temple.

“They don’t say these things about Ezra, though,” she murmured.

“Well, not to burden you any further,” Anakin sighed. “But as we’re being honest - don’t ever think that the moment you trip, initiate Bridger’s trips to Lothal will be over. You and Luke are something new, and you will always lead by an example. But that’s why we’re here, me and your mother, and Ahsoka and Obi Wan. To catch you before anyone else notices.”

Leia only sighed, deep and long, in a way older than her twelve years have any right to be.

“I’m also supposed to tell you,” Anakin said, changing the topic, “That your master is awaiting you in the training room seven. Time to hone those lightsaber skills. I thought you wanted to master Jar’Kai until the end of the year!”

“Right,” Leia grinned again, untangling herself from Anakin’s arms. “So I can strike fear!”

Anakin might’ve started something here that he might regret, but seeing Leia’s smile, he can only laugh. His little princess, all grown up ready to beat up people. He was so proud. Padme would be, too.

“By the way dad,” Leia said standing up and brushing off her robes, looking down at Anakin from the unusual height advantage. “I’m still mad at you, dad. I will be for at least two weeks.”

“That’s fair.”

“But. There are some things that could help me forgive you faster.”

Anakin gave up long ago on trying to deny Leia anything anyway.

“Like?” He played the game with a small smile.

“Like if you sparred with me tomorrow. And a lunch at Aboo’s. And a knife.”

“Hm, that’s all…- Wait a knife?!”

Without a word, Leia turned on her heel frighteningly reminding him of Ahsoka, and only threw over her shoulder as she disappeared among the plants:

“Gotta go, my master is waiting! Bye dad!!”

“Wait, Leia! Why would you need a knife? Leia. Is it because initiate Bridger’s got one? Leia!”

#star wars #leia organa #Ahsoka Tano #Anakin Skywalker #art #my art #my writing #yes I'm continuing this weird au #cause on this blog we like happy endings #so to elaborate #Luke and Leia lived in padmes apartment as little kids and would go to the temple for classes #like school #and from like 8 years old #they would live in the crèche for the week #and spend weekends at home #Like boarding school #also Ezra is there too #and he's friends with the twins #and he's allowed to visit his parents on lothal #because Luke and leia's different way of education succeeded #some Jedi hate it #because tradition blah blah #but every year there's more kids who keep in touch with their families #and yes Ezra has a knife #also Tumblr destroyed my original version #I'm so mad #retyping it was so tedious #so I'm gonna level with you #I didn't check for typos #but come on it's a tiny thing for Tumblr

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kalm5 · 4 years

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The Feeling

A little background. This idea came up when I was re-watching The Clone Wars. So this story is a little bit based around S5 Ep13 though I have made ohhh so sad. Totally pulling a page out of @suddenly-clones book of angst. You have been warned. Now onwards to my story. Also is going to have multiple views of the same thing. It just been a little slow going on the writing for it.

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General Anakin Skywalker was feeling something dreadful. It started bear the end of a campaign. They 501st received orders to head to Space Station Valour for the security conference that’s being held there. Anakin really didn’t want to go to the conference. The force was telling him something but what it was he couldn’t figure out.

Anakin could hear it in his mind that Obi-Wan would tell him that it could be stress. The 501st have been on constant battlefronts. Either on their own campaigns or supporting other Garrisons. Anakin could see that the constant battles were wearing him and his men out. He had repeatedly requested time off and to be sent back to Coruscant. They men could use the time off to unwind. Also he was missing Padme greatly. Communications have been spotty lately. The only nice thing about going to Valour is that there will be a clear cut signal so he could holdall his wife. Though the thought did go through his mind to get on his fighter and sneak off to Coruscant but that would get suspicious. There would also be council members present at the conference. Anakin was on the bridge just staring out. Rex walked up beside him.

“Sorry Rex. I really did try to get us leave and head to Coruscant.”

“Don’t worry sir. Atleast we will have some down time on the ship.”

“Yeah but the ship still has rules.” Anakin was joking about this a little bit.

“Really General. We are perfectly capable of following the rules sir.” Rex was amused at his General’s antics.

Anakin gave the Captain a small smile. Rex noticed something was up with his General. He noticed a solemn expression. Something that he doesn't see often. The was taking a toll on everyone. Anakin had sent the Commander back to the temple. He wanted her to be away from the front lines for awhile. Rex could tell that Anakin was missing his Padawan. Even the men were bugging Rex when their commander was coming back.

“Are you okay General?” Rex was concerned

“I’m fine Rex.”

“Are you sure sir?” Rex kept asking even though it wasn’t place to ask his general these personal questions.

“I don't even know myself right now.” Muttered Anakin.

Rex decided not to push anymore. He excused himself from his General because he had some other duties to complete before they get to Valour. Anakin also left the bridge as well. He would try to mediate. Though he was horrible he hoped that maybe there would be some clarity to this very foggy future.

The Resolute dropped out of hyperspace. This was Anakin’s first time to Valour. The meditating did nothing for him. It was really aggravating him more and more. There already a few destroyers there. One of them Anakin recognized as Admiral Tarkin’s ship. He really didn't like that man after what happen at the citadel. Though thinking about he really didn't like a lot of the admirals of the GAR. It was because they had really bad opinions about the clones. Admiral Yularen working efficiently with the bridge crew. Codes being submitted for verification and getting their positioning orders. But as the ship was getting closer he was dreading about being there. Why was being here so bad? Anakin was thinking. Though he squashed it because he decided that he would go to the station and try to make contact with his wife.

“I’m going to head into the station. See what trouble I can get my myself into.”

“Please don’t blow up the station Skywalker.” Admiral Yularen was joking about that. Anakin got a chill though his body on what the admiral just time him. He hid this feeling. Giving the admiral his signature grins of he will cause chaos. He headed to the hangar to catch a ride. While he was walking towards the hangar he saw his Captain. The ever efficient one.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Rex was trying to be casual. His intentions were to keep and eye on his general. “No it’s fine Rex. I’m sure you can use a break from me.” Anakin saying jokingly. As they walked down to the hangar. Rex didn't mind going with his General. He rested enough to be able to escort him. “I’ve never been hear before. All you guys look like you can get more rest. You are all starting to look raggedy to me.” Anakin saying jokingly. “General” Rex rolling his eyes at the comment. “For real Captain. I starting to think I'm not able to recognize you guys.”

Rex just shook his head. Though Anakin knew how much time time the clones put into their appearance. They got to the hangar. There was a lot of commotion. The ships were already working on getting the re-supply that the Resolute was needing. Anakin walked to one of the gunships that was getting ready to depart. He could tell that these troopers were a little unease at his sudden appearance. He was thinking that they were new and haven’t seen him before really. “At ease boys just hitching a ride with you guys.”

The station wasn’t anything special actually. Anakin thought there would be better food on the station but it was the same boring GAR rations. He chose not to eat. He then found the astromech room. He loved droids. They would have the good gossip on the station. He was missing R2, the droid was sent on a mission. After the brief conversation with the astromechs he finally went to a communication room. For the longest time he created a splice that would be able to track his communications when he had to use the GAR stations when using his personal comm.

Anakin was full of joy when Padme answered the call. Looking as beautiful as ever. His angel. They talked about things that were going on after their was transmissions. Padme was a little disappointed that the Resolute wasn’t coming to Coruscant. Then Padme saw the look on Anakin’s face. She knew that look very well. After some pestering she finally got was wrong with her husband. Anakin told her what was wrong and the off feeling he was having. Padme knew how dangerous visions with Anakin could be. She was being as supported through Anakin’s turmoil. They both wished the could converse forever Padme has a meeting to go and had to leave. “I love you Padme.” “I love you too Ani.”

Anakin returned to the ship. He had the option of staying on the station but he wanted to be on the ship. To feel the force signatures of his men. He went to sleep that with these dreams. They were still jumbled mess but there was some clarity. It was the safety for his men and his friends of a situation that he didn’t know if it would happen. But he would put in place these plans. He would going splicing into Valour’s systems to make the changes.

The day before the conference, Jesse and Fives bugged their General to let them on the station as well. To be escorts as they were calling it. Anakin let them come with him. Of course Rex would be with them. Captain Rex held the position of watching General’s back in very high regard. Anakin diverted their attention that he would meet them in the Commissary. Then he did his sneaky skills of splicing to put in the new orders for his ship and some of the incoming ships. This what he dreams. He felt a little bad because there would have to be some very apologetic station crews having to explain that there as a mix up. But Anakin needed to protect his men. After he did that he felt a little bit better. Now it was time to go eat lunch with his men and shoot the shit. He really wished he could tell Jesse that he was accepted in the ARC trooper program but they had to wait a few days to tell Jesse the good news.

It was the day of the conference. A lot of ships had arrived for the conference. Anakin knew that Master Windu and Obi-Wan were there. Their ships position where they need to be. Anakin was already on the station. He tried to message Obi-Wan because he really needed to talk to his master. But he was shot down because apparently there was a emergency council meeting. Anakin hoped that the meeting wouldn’t last to long. Anakin was feeling something and it was causing him to panic a bit. The force was feeling so staticky. Then the chancellor chose the worst time to comm him. He was told that he could never ignore calls from him. So went into the side room to take the call.

The Chancellor was his usually cheerful self. Anakin really didn't want this now. He thought it was weird when the man thought that Anakin would be on Coruscant. The man would know his movements. Anakin told the chancellor that the leave was denied and that he was actually on Space Station Valour. Then the hairs in the back of Anakin’s neck went up. Anakin looked away from the chancellor trying to figure out what the force was.

“The ship is slowing down!” There was a lot of yelling happening outside. The station crew was trying to get ahold of the ship. A bunch a troopers went into the room where Anakin.

Even though Anakin was in a different room he could see the blinding light. This is was the force was trying to tell him. He should have been the station. Anakin knew that he was going to survive this. The brave troopers that he didn’t know that would sacrifice their lives to protect him. It was foolish but this is what the clones knew. Things were starting to disintegrate in slow motion.

Many thoughts went through his mind. He would never see this war end. Never see his Padawan, Ahsoka, become a knight. Never laugh with his troopers. Never annoy his Captain with his antics. Never talk to his master. Then there was Padme he would never see again.

Padme the light of his life. His wife. His Angel.

“I love you Padme. Forever and always.”

Then Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker’s force signature blinked out from existence.

----

After three days, a salvage crew confirmed the worst fear of everyone. They had found the body of Anakin Skywalker. There was a cluster of bodies surrounding the General. So his body was mostly intact. It was a very devastating day for the Jedi Order and the Republic. The Hero with no Fear was confirmed dead.

#Star Wars the clone wars #anakin skywalker #captain rex #angst #angsty #star wars #sad story #the resolute #s5ep13

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skywalkersapprentice · 7 years

Text

Day 23- Dance

Ahsoka and Anakin go undercover at a Separatist gala.

rating: g

pairing: slight ahsoka tano/ofc

word count: 3687

(read on ao3)

My 13-year-old self is disappointed in me but I have no regrets.

Ahsoka hated going undercover.

It was humiliating, exhausting, and involved a level of acting skills that she just didn't have. She always knew where she stood with the battle droids and separatist generals- they were out to kill her. Undercover missions were different. There were so many grey areas and Ahsoka didn't always know how to act around the enemy when she wasn't aiming a lightsaber at them.

Fortunately, walking around a gala on the snowy Separatist word of Bentera wasn't so bad. Separatist leaders and politicians threw galas the same way the Republic senators did, and Ahsoka had been to a few of those. Bentera had delicious food, kind people, and the planet's capital, where the gala was being held, was high up in the mountains. The elaborate hall overlooked both the sparkling lights of the city of Aris and the shadowy mountains beyond.

If it weren't for the battle droids standing guard at the doors, Ahsoka could have easily forgotten she wasn't in Republic territory.

“Have you discovered anything so far?” a voice said from behind her. Ahsoka shook her head.

“No. You?”

Anakin walked up beside her. He was wearing his hair styled up, away from his forehead and lenses had changed his eye colour to brown. They were both dressed in navy, though Ahsoka wished she could have worn a suit like Anakin, or at least a shorter dress. She hated fighting in long, flowing outfits, and if they had to fight their way out of here, this beautiful, shimmering dress was likely not going to make it out in one piece.

“All anyone's talked about so far is petty gossip, boring politics and their hatred of the war,” Anakin said. “Nothing unusual.” He reached for a drink as a server passed them, the perfect picture of casual, but Ahsoka knew he was alert, watching and listening for anything that would lead them to their goal.

“Ah, young man, I don't believe we've had the pleasure.” A Siniteen delegate appeared by Anakin's side. He was short, just barely reaching Anakin's shoulders, and there was a pleasant smile on his face that looked just a bit too forced. “I am Kas Smarasan, representative here on behalf of Senator Lawise.”

Ahsoka had seen Senator Lawise before, when she'd accompanied Padme to Mandalore to hold peace talks with the Separatists. She was suddenly very glad he wasn't here- he hadn't paid much attention to her then, and Ahsoka had altered her facial markings with makeup, but there was a still a chance the Rattataki Senator would have recognized her.

“I'm Darius Aviro, Chairman of Venaxus,” Anakin said putting on a haughty voice that reminded Ahsoka of Master Kenobi when he was particularly exasperated. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Ahsoka didn't know if the real Darius Aviro would be pleased to make his acquaintance. Likely, he didn't even know this gala was happening. His invitation had been intercepted by the Republic, and now Anakin and Ahsoka were here instead.

“Venaxus!” said Smarasan heartily. “I've heard good things about Venaxus, been meaning to visit for ages- I was so glad when I heard you had decided to join the Separatists.”

“Thank you, representative Smarasan,” Anakin said. His white-gloved hands were clenched behind his back even as he gave the Siniteen his most charming smile.

Smarasan turned his attention to Ahsoka. His false grin widened. “And who might you be?”

“That's my aide, Sorris Arandaa,” Anakin said, tone dismissive. Ahsoka had heavily protested being an aide when they were assigning roles for this mission, but as Anakin had pointed out, at sixteen, there weren't a lot of other roles available to her. She couldn't exactly be a Senator.

“A pleasure, my dear,” Smarasan said. He bent down to kiss her hand, and Anakin and Ahsoka exchanged a why us look for the hundredth time that night.

This was punishment, Ahsoka thought, for all the ways they'd 'creatively' obeyed the Jedi Council. That's the only way they could have reasoned that sending the two of them to mingle with politicians- Separatist politicians- was a good idea.

This will all be worth it in the end, Ahsoka told herself, and that helped restrain herself from using the hand he was kissing to slap him.

Anakin excused them both after that, and they made their way to the side of the hall. “Having fun yet, Snips?” he asked dryly as they weaved around delegates from many different systems. It was jarring to realize how many worlds were joining the Separatists.

“Not really, Darius,” Ahsoka replied. Her feet ached from the too-fancy shoes and they'd only been there for around two hours. This was going to be a long night.

“Let's keep looking,” Anakin said. He adjusted the white Venaxian sash on his right shoulder, looking as uncomfortable in his suit as she felt in her dress. “Remember, if you see anything unusual, comm me.”

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka said. There was a comlink in a hidden pocket in her dress. That was one of the only upsides of this mission. She'd never worn a dress with pockets before.

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind them. Ahsoka turned to see a young human woman approaching them. She wore the traditional gold Benterian headdress that Ahsoka had seen on all of the planet's officials so far, but she was far younger than most. Part of her long black hair was done in an elaborate bun, the rest fell loose down her back. She wasn't wearing a dress and Ahsoka took a moment to be envious of the dark red sleeveless suit under a matching gold embroidered cape. It contrasted nicely with her brown skin.

Anakin's charming smile was back in a flash. “Senator Kardalla,” he said with a nod. “So good to finally meet you. I'm Darius Aviro, of Venaxus.”

“Thank you for coming, Chairman Aviro,” the Senator of Bentera told him. “In times of trouble, it is important to show unity, wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes, of course,” Anakin said. It was the first sincere thing Ahsoka had heard from him all night.

“Chairman,” she said to Anakin. “Would you like another drink?”

That was their code for I'm going to go look around. “Please,” Anakin said briskly. If one of them was caught up in political conversation, the other might as well keep their eyes open.

“Wait,” said Senator Kardalla. To Ahsoka, she said, “What I came to ask is- may I have the next dance?”

Ahsoka used the cover of her long dress to nudge her Master's foot. Don't worry, Snips, he'd said. If you're playing the part of an aide, you won't have to dance, he'd said.

Anakin's apology was an attempt to save her. “I- that's just my aide, Senator,” he said with a convincing laugh of disbelief. “If it's a dance you want, I would be happy to-”

“That's very kind of you, Chairman Aviro, and if you would like a dance later, I'll be happy to oblige,” Senator Kardalla said. “But I would like to dance with her now.” She turned warm brown eyes on Ahsoka. “If that's alright.”

It would have been rude to decline a dance from the host of the gala, even Ahsoka knew that. She accepted the Senator's outstretched hand and walked with her out to the centre of the hall, where there was already a slight crowd. She risked a quick glance back, just to shoot a look at her Master. He just shrugged helplessly.

“You should probably know that I'm not very good at this,” Ahsoka said apologetically as she faced Kardalla. What would an aide do in this situation? She tried to remember the interactions she'd seen between Senator Amidala and her handmaidens.

“That's all right,” Kardalla said. “I'll lead. Just do what I do, and you'll be fine.”

Kardalla made it look easy. She moved and swayed with the music in a way that was foreign to Ahsoka. Her cape swished behind her like water with every step. In comparison, Ahsoka felt awkward in her long dress and pointy shoes.

Eventually, though, it got easier. It was a bit like sparring, just a little more graceful, and when she figured that out, her feet finally decided to cooperate. All the same, she decided to forgo any attempt at acting. That was hard enough when she wasn't trying not to step on the toes of a Separatist Senator.

“You're a quick learner,” Kardalla said with a approving smile.

“You're a good teacher,” Ahsoka said, almost grudgingly. It was difficult to admit that the Separatists were good at anything, but it helped that this one was nicer than most.

The music was just slow enough that Ahsoka could follow the steps, but fast enough to be energetic and almost... fun. Was she really having fun dancing with a Separatist?

“We haven't been formally introduced,” the Senator said during a lull. “I am Saratai Kardalla, Senator of Bentera.”

“I'm Sorris Arranda,” Ahsoka said, scrambling to remember her false identity for the night. “Chairman Aviro's aide.” It rolled off her tongue naturally enough.

Saratai Kardalla studied her for a moment. “You called the Chairman Master. Why?”

Ahsoka winced internally. That had been her mistake. “It's not what you think. Where I come from, it's a sign of respect.” She didn't know about Venaxus, but it was certainly true of her own life.

Saratai didn't respond to that. She stepped away, pulled Ahsoka in, then spun them around. She was still studying Ahsoka, even as they danced, and unease began to gather in Ahsoka's chest.

“Why did you want to dance with me, and not the Chairman?” she asked. “You didn't even know my name.”

The silence continued a moment longer. Abruptly, she twirled Ahsoka and turned that twirl into a dip. Knocked off balance, Ahsoka was forced to grab Saratai's shoulders to steady herself. She waited for Saratai to pull her up, but the Senator held that position as the music slowed.

“I'll answer your question,” Saratai Kardalla said with a small grin, “if you tell me your real name.”

If this were a spar, Ahsoka would be pinned to the ground.

She tared up at the Senator, trying to gauge how much she'd figured out. There was still a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips, but her eyes were steady. Saratai didn't suspect- she knew.

Several half formed plans flew through her head. She could easily break Saratai's hold on her, alert Anakin and get out, but that would be a mission failure, which wasn't an option. She could make a scene and escape in the chaos- also a mission failure. She could figure out a way to press that comlink and let her Master know they'd been compromised.

Or... she could play along for now, see what Saratai wanted.

“I'm Ahsoka Tano,” she said, too quiet for anyone else to hear. Saratai nodded. Her expression was friendly, and unlike Kas Smarasan, it was not a false one.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ahsoka Tano.” She pulled Ahsoka upright and the dance continued, although Saratai's hands on her now felt more dangerous than they had a minute ago.

She didn't sense immediate danger from the Benteran Senator though. She was... curious. It was rare that she met a Separatist that didn't think with their weapons, but Saratai hadn't tried anything so far. Somehow, she'd found out that Ahsoka and Anakin weren't who they appeared to be.

And instead of having them arrested, she'd asked Ahsoka to dance.

“What do you want?” Ahsoka asked.

“It's like I said,” Saratai told her, “I want a dance. And-” she spun them around again- “I want to know why the Republic has sent Jedi to Bentera.”

“What makes you think I'm a Jedi?”

Saratai gave her a look. “You're too young to be anything else, Ahsoka Tano.”

“You're not so much older than I am, Senator,” Ahsoka said, eyes narrowed. It was true- even dressed up like she was, Saratai Kardalla couldn't have been much older than eighteen. Naboo and Onderon weren't the only planets that got their children involved in politics early in life.

Saratai twirled away, and when they came back together, Ahsoka was leading the dance. It was an intentional transfer of power on the Senator's part. What exactly was she playing at?

“It's a nice evening, isn't it?” Saratai remarked. “It would be a shame if it was ruined by the war, as so many peaceful nights have been in the past.”

“I'm not here to cause trouble,” Ahsoka told her. Not unless she had to. “One of the delegates in this room has something that belongs to the Republic. I'm here to get it back.” She was careful to keep Anakin out of the conversation, even if she knew he was already involved. No need to invite trouble where there wasn't any.

Saratai looked amused. “You know, Ahsoka, hyperspace lanes do not belong to the Republic. Yes, I thought that's what you were after,” she said in response to Ahsoka's startled expression. “Why do you think you have any more right to that intel than the Separatist Alliance?”

“I-” Ahsoka shook her head. “It's not about who has the right to the hyperspace lanes, Senator. If those coordinates reach someone like Grievous or Dooku, they could be used to take thousands of lives. Innocent lives.”

Senators were the same the galaxy over, Ahsoka thought as the dance continued. You couldn't play fair, not in a war like this, no matter what they seemed to think.

“This is not a one-sided war,” Saratai reminded her. “Those hyperspace lanes run through both Republic and Separatist territory. If they reached your military leaders, do you think the result would be different?”

Ahsoka started to say yes, then thought about it. If she and Anakin could retrieve the data file of hyperspace routes from the Senator who was set to deliver it to a Separatist General at tonight's gala, the Republic would also use those coordinates for military purposes. But whereas the Republic would use the hyperspace lanes to liberate worlds under Separatist occupation, the Separatists would only enslave more planets.

The motivation from both sides were different. But the end result would be more fighting.

“Honestly?” she said to Saratai. “I'm... not sure. This war isn't as straightforward as I once thought it was.”

“I don't disagree,” Saratai replied. “But... that's an unusual response for a Jedi.” She stepped away, then let Ahsoka pull her back in. The music was faster now, sending couples spinning around them, but Ahsoka paid them little attention.

“You're a Separatist. How would you know?”

Saratai offered her a sad smile. “I wasn't always one. Bentera only left the Republic two years ago. Coruscant used to be like a second home to me.”

Ahsoka looked down. The war had divided so many, changed billions of lives. Sometimes, she forgot that there were people on the other side that were suffering as well.

She didn't ask why Bentera had decided to join the Separatists. She didn't challenge Senator Kardalla's beliefs. They would not change each other's minds today.

“One day, this war is going to end,” she said quietly. “When that happens, you'll be able to peacefully travel to Coruscant again.”

Saratai considered her for a moment. “Is that Jedi intuition?”

Ahsoka shook her head as they sidestepped a Neimoidian couple. “Just... hope.”

“Hope,” Saratai repeated. “You've surprised me, Ahsoka Tano.” She smiled. “In a good way.”

The song was ending. Saratai swung Ahsoka into a dip once more, but this time, her hands felt less threatening. It was not a move of power, but simply part of the dance. She didn't know what would happen when the music stopped, but the Force surrounding Saratai contained no ill will.

Saratai's cape fell over her left shoulder, effectively shielding them from the outside world. She sighed heavily as she looked down at Ahsoka.

“Sorris Arranda, I hate to say it, but I think your time as an aide to the Chairman is just about up.”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Saratai said, “there is an important data chip in my pocket.”

It was like a lightning strike of realization.

The Senator had been Saratai all along.

“In five minutes, I am to deliver this chip to that gentleman in the silver suit, down by the dessert table,” Saratai continued. “Unfortunately, when I go to hand it to him, I will find that the data chip has gone missing.” Her frown was ruined by her sparkling eyes. “Perhaps I made a mistake by dancing with that aide earlier.”

Oh.

“Maybe,” Ahsoka agreed. She used the Force to locate the data chip, then gently floated it between them and into her own pocket, invisible to the gala around them. She looked up at Saratai. “But I think you did the right thing.”

The music came to a slow end. Saratai helped Ahsoka right herself. “Please,” she said softly, “deliver that to the Jedi and not the Republic Senate. I think it will do less damage in your hands.”

“I will, Senator.” Ahsoka took half a step back, then thought of something. “You... did say you would tell me why you wanted to dance with me.”

Saratai shrugged, smiled a little. Her calm mask cracked to reveal a hint of embarrassment. “Self indulgence, Ahsoka. Even if we are on opposing sides, I wanted to.”

“Oh.” Ahsoka looked down, fighting a blush. A warm, familiar feeling curled in her chest. “Well. I'm glad you did.”

She hadn't expected to be saying those words at the end of any dance, let alone one with a Separatist. But they were true.

She found the warmth reflected back at her in Saratai's eyes. “Me too.”

A new song started up, more upbeat than the last. Saratai hesitated, then nodded to Ahsoka and with a swirl of her cape, she had disappeared into the crowd. Ahsoka stood there a moment longer, then headed back to her Master, pocket heavy with the data chip and mind filled with things to process.

It's always the Separatist Senators, she thought ruefully.

Anakin was standing with his arms crossed near the stage. He nodded with approval as she approached. “Not bad,” he said. “You didn't blow our cover.”

“Not... exactly,” Ahsoka hedged, and Anakin gave her a look.

“How do you not exactly blow our cover?”

“Senator Kardalla already knew.”

“What?” She watched as her Master went into high alert, scanning the crowed for Saratai. “And you let her get away? Ahsoka-”

“I'll explain on the way,” Ahsoka said quickly. “But we need to get out of here.”

“After three hours of mingling with politicians?” Anakin shook his head. “We're not leaving without the data chip.”

Ahsoka patted her pocket, watching out of the corner of her eye as across the room, Saratai walked up to the man in the silver suit. “I have it. Come on. It's probably best if we're not here when Kardalla's contact discovers she doesn't have the intel.”

Anakin's confusion was palpable as they quickly made their way out of the hall. As soon as they were outside, they broke into a run, racing through the dark, snowy streets of Aris. Ahsoka winced as the cold seeped into her useless shoes.

“Next time we go undercover,” she called to Anakin, “why don't you wear the impractical clothing for once?”

“Hey, I did my fair share of uncomfortable missions when I was a Padawan,” Anakin replied. “When you're a Jedi Master, you can make the rules.”

Eventually, they came to a halt in an abandoned alley. Anakin pulled out his comm to let the Republic know they were ready for pickup, then turned to Ahsoka, folding his arms.

“Alright. Explain to me how you went to dance with the host of that gala and came back with the data chip we needed.”

“The Separatists must have known the Republic was sending someone to infiltrate the gala,” Ahsoka began. “Saratai figured out it was us. I think... that she must have known what the Separatist army planned to do with the data chip, so she decided to give us a chance, to see if the Republic was a better option.”

Anakin shook his head. “How did you get her to trust you? Why did you trust her?”

“I took a page out of Master Kenobi's book and decided not to jump to conclusions,” Ahsoka told him. “Master, not all Separatists are as bad as you think they are.”

Anakin regarded her, searching her face for something. “I'm not sure your feelings on this matter are entirely clear, Snips.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms, mirroring him. “Maybe yours aren't, either.” Anakin had a bit of a radical view on the Separatists. She didn't fault him for it, but it didn't mean he was right.

Anakin visibly decided to drop it. “In any case, I've had quite enough of politicians for one night.”

“That I can agree with,” Ahsoka said. She sighed, suddenly feeling drained from an entire evening of socializing with the Separatists. “I'm almost looking forward to fighting battle droids again.”

Anakin peered out of the alleyway, checking to make sure the coast was clear. “Cmon. We need to get this data chip back to the Republic.”

“Master,” Ahsoka said, remembering something, “I promised Senator Kardalla that I would bring it directly to the Jedi Council.”

“Alright,” Anakin told her. “But Ahsoka, what happens to it after that isn't up to us.”

“I know,” Ahsoka said. She had to trust that the Council would do what was best. But she was doing was she thought was right.

That was all she- or Saratai Kardalla- could do.

Anakin nodded, then motioned for her to follow him as he took off down the street. Ahsoka paused for a moment. She kicked off her ruined heels, feeling immense satisfaction in leaving them behind to be buried in the fresh powder.

With a final look behind her, she followed her Master into the swirling snow.

#starwarsfictober #ahsoka tano #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #star wars fictober #writings

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