#mace pretends to be cranky with them but mostly he’s just
Note
Hi, how are you? Hope all is well) Can you please write "Where have you been" with Anakin and a very very depressed and sad Obi?
Of course!
From this various prompts list.
I admit I wasn’t sure exactly which angle you were hoping for, but this is the one my brain liked, so here we are.
_
Anakin’s hand shook slightly as he ran the cloth over the glass mug, turning it in his hands. Water beaded up in the wake of his first attempt, so he went back again a little slower, making sure he left no smudges behind. Then he carefully placed it in the cabinet where it belonged, each shelf lined with different mugs, most of them glass, a few of them seemingly random — porcelain, wood, something that looked like clay, a deep red crystalline substance.
Anakin knew that the ones that weren’t glass had all, once, belonged to Qui-Gon.
They were used rarely. Carefully. Cherished like treasures.
The rest, the glass, those were Obi-Wan’s.
He liked the perfection of glass, its transparency, the way he could watch the teas he brewed and steeped changing, colors swirling and fading beneath his fingers.
Anakin found them difficult to maintain and hard to clean.
His hand shook again, and he quickly put down the towel and set aside the next mug, turning away from the still untidy kitchen.
His gloved metal hand raked through his hair.
It was late.
It was very late.
He walked to the window and brushed aside the curtain with one hand, confronted first with his own ghostly reflection, and then focusing on the view outside. It was pouring down rain. A rare enough occurrence here on Coruscant, and tonight, of all nights, when Obi-Wan could be out there.
He could be anywhere.
Anakin didn’t know.
Obi-Wan had been missing for twenty-nine hours.
He had walked out of their shared quarters while Anakin was visiting Padmé, sometime in the early evening yesterday, leaving his cloak behind, leaving his lightsaber behind.
And then he was gone.
Anakin had searched all the usual places. He’d reached out to Dex, and alerted Mace Windu and Healer Che, and sent Ahsoka to check with the crèche and Initiates dorm in case he was there playing with and teaching the little ones. He’d contacted Bail and Padmé, and gained permission after the twelve hour mark to examine the security holos.
There was nothing.
It was as if Obi-Wan Kenobi had stepped over the threshold of their door and just fallen out of existence.
Anakin watched rain lash against the window, scattering his pale reflection into twisted fragments, and tried to remind himself that he had already been searching for twenty-five hours straight. That he hadn’t slept or eaten. That Master Koon had forbidden him from going out into the storm to search, when they already had rested and armored troopers doing a steady sweep of the Temple perimeter, even when they didn’t know if Obi-Wan had actually left the grounds.
The Temple was massive.
He could be hiding in an unused wing, or in the depths of the dustiest levels, or in the back of the Archives, or the towers.
No, not the Archives. Master Nu had already searched there and that woman would never miss so much as a hair out of place in her domain, much less a High Councilor.
Anakin had heard Master Mundi making noises about a possible trap or an abduction.
And while that was bad — nightmarish — to contemplate, Anakin had his own fears, and they felt much more realistic, much too close for comfort.
Anakin flung himself down on the sofa with his head in his hands and tried not to admit that he was frightened.
He had seen Obi-Wan like this before. Back when they were a new partnership and Qui-Gon was dead but there was still so much of him living in the Temple, like the mugs, one still the on the countertop with a faint imprint of his lips staining the rim, or his spare cloaks and boots, and the trinkets and potted plants that filled every available space. And Obi-Wan had...
Well. Whenever he thought Anakin wasn’t paying attention, he was so quiet. He barely slept for days and then slept too much. He hardly ate and then ate random things at random times. He hardly smiled.
He wandered off.
Alone.
The worst time had been when Anakin was six months in to his apprenticeship. He had woken up with a terribly bad feeling to find his Master missing from his bed, and with the unerring instinct of a worried child, he had shot off in search of Master Yoda, who had quietly raised the alarm amongst the older Masters. It was Master Windu who had found Obi-Wan, quiet and shrunken and apathetic, concealed in one of the many gardens, letting the life of the garden conceal his dimming force signature from view.
Anakin had clung to him like he was about to disappear, and Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed to really process that he was there...
Eventually he had pulled out of it. Anakin didn’t know how.
But this...
Anakin had been worried since Geonosis that he would lose his Master to death on the battlefield. Then there had been Ventress and Jabiim and Grievous and Dooku and Maul — Maul — and suddenly it felt like Obi-Wan was never safe. The war and his enemies chased him everywhere.
But Obi-Wan had lost friends and peers and younglings he had once taught or cradled in his arms when they were so very small, and his Master’s murderer had come back like a resurrected demon to plague him, to threaten his life and sanity and everyone he loved — and Satine had already paid with her life.
Others might.
And when Anakin had come racing back home from 500 Republica when he’d heard the news, it was already too late, and Obi-Wan had gone off all alone stars knew where.
That was enough.
Anakin leapt to his feet, his body trembling with fear and nausea, determined to ignore orders.
Damn their kindness and responsibility, damn the fact that he’d probably only get soaked and miserable, he was going out searching again.
Anakin strode towards the door on shaking legs.
It swung open before he neared it, and there was Obi-Wan.
Anakin gaped at him.
Obi-Wan stared blankly back. “...Anakin?”
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathed, staring at him, taking him in. He was without his cloak and lightsaber, as he had known he would be, and was soaking wet — completely sopping, as if he had swum in a lake rather than wandered about in a rainstorm.
“Obi-Wan,” he said again, his voice strained. “Where have you been?”
His Master continued to look blank. “I went out.”
“You went out? You’ve been gone for well over a day!” Anakin cried out. “Where have you been?”
Obi-Wan shrank away from the shouting. His blue eyes flickered around the room as if looking for an answer, or perhaps an escape, and still his expression was utterly detached. “I... I don’t know, really. Here and there.”
A pause.
“Was I really gone for so long?” he asked. He sounded distantly, disinterestedly bewildered, and Anakin broke.
“Yes!” he shouted, his face screwed up in anger, in an attempt to hold back childish tears. “Yes you have! You disappeared! There are people looking for you, and the Council was worried you’d been taken, and I was so— I was — so — I— you can’t do that to me, Obi-Wan, please, I was losing my mind!”
Obi-Wan’s blank expression finally shifted.
A look of confusion and worry built behind the vague blue eyes, and Anakin launched himself at his friend like he had all those years ago, locking his limbs around him in a fierce hug.
For a long moment it was like hugging a statue. A very cold, very wet statue that shivered ever so slightly.
But Anakin held on, determined to keep Obi-Wan right here, to keep him safe and warm, to make him understand that he was needed, that he could also rest, that it would all be okay if he just stayed. Stayed like he had before. His tunics began to absorb some of the icy moisture coming off his Master but he kept holding on, his face buried in Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
And slowly, Obi-Wan came to life.
His hands inched upwards to rest against his Padawan’s back, and he tilted his head so that he was leaning against Anakin’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled. “I had no idea you’d be so concerned.”
“I wasn’t concerned, you absolute idiot, I was scared,” Anakin hissed, the confession both bitter and relieving on his lips. “How would you feel if I vanished with no word? For thirty hours?”
A long silence.
“Well,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, “I would be impressed with Padmé for not getting bored of you long before that.”
There was a dead silence.
Then a spluttered, incredulous laugh, and it took Anakin a moment to realize it was he who was laughing. His shoulders shook with it, with shock at the revelation of what Obi-Wan knew, that he wasn’t angry about it, that he was cracking stupid, mean, dumb jokes about it when Anakin was trying to be mad at him.
Obi-Wan chuckled quietly, and Anakin laughed harder, delighted that his friend was smiling, if only a little.
“You’re not off the hook you know,” he mumbled, guiding Obi-Wan to his rooms, planning on forcing him to take a hot shower and drink warm tea and maybe pull out one of Qui-Gon’s old cloaks, because that always helped.
“Neither are you,” Obi-Wan mumbled back, and squeezed his hand every so briefly.
~
When Plo Koon dropped by to check on Anakin, very early the next morning, he found him sleeping soundly on a chair, snoring quietly, his feet propped on the arm of the sofa, where Obi-Wan was fast asleep with an old cloak that was far too large for him draped over his body.
It was easy to forgive them to forgetting to inform the Guard to call off the search.
Mace could pretend to yell at them during their next Council meeting, during which, he was sure, the two friends would stand side by side, mischief in their eyes.
~
#star wars fic#my writing#prompt fill#star wars#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#obi wan and anakin#qui gon jinn#master & padawan#more hugs needed#tw depression#tw disassociation#angst and fluff#everyone loves obi wan#literally everyone#mace pretends to be cranky with them but mostly he’s just#amused#and tired
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deception | (gen)
Pairing: Toddler! Ahsoka & Mace Windu
Genre: Fluff
Words: 3368
Summary: Ahsoka dashes from the wall and runs at full speed, throwing a toothy grin at him. She grips his lightsaber in her hand and zaps away. Well, if that’s the game, Mace will play. He can be a damn good hunter after all.
Or: Ahsoka tricks Mace into acknowledging his emotions and having fun for the first time in forever.
Ahsoka scares Shaak. Seriously. Togrutas are born hunters— they have to be since the akul rule their homeworld—but she’s never met one as terrifying as Ahsoka Tano. Force, when she was an Initiate herself, all those years ago, Shaak had the demeanor of a predator too. She’d stalk around teachers, tear into meat, jump at small creatures and fight at large ones. But at least she didn’t have the absolutely insane urge to chase High Council members for fun.
Everyone thought that Ahsoka would always be Plo’s little one. She followed him everywhere, and he let her. When not napping on top of him, Ahsoka could be found wrapped around the edges of his robes or clinging to his chest. Things changed when, on a regular, unassuming day, Ahsoka ran into Adi Gallia’s legs and didn’t let go. Adi had tried walking away, telling the little girl that she had important Jedi Master stuff to do, but Ahsoka was relentless. Adi even tried handing her off to Plo who attempted to sway his foundling back to him (a useless endeavor). It took a long game of hide and seek to pry Ahsoka off of Adi and back into Plo’s arms.
The next week, it was Yaddle. They had quite a nice time around the Temple, and Yaddle even invited other younglings to join. They didn’t play much; Yaddle taught Ahsoka a few acrobatic moves instead (which Ahsoka later employed upon an unsuspecting Oppo Rancisis).
Eeth Koth served as the next victim of Ahsoka’s gaze, and she had forced him into a game of pretend. He was the princess and even had a paper crown while she served as the knight, a practice saber clipped to her side. The “dragon” had been Ahsoka’s stuffed akul. Instead of stabbing her stuffy with the saber, Ahsoka made peace with it and successfully rescued Eeth from his bindings. To this day, no one knows how a youngling tied and restrained a Jedi Master with bedsheets, and Eeth doesn’t like talking about it. After that encounter, Ahsoka stuck to Plo when she had the chance. The Council thought she got tired and preferred her founder’s presence once again. It was a welcome reprieve (namely for Eeth and Oppo).
Until, out of nowhere, Ahsoka declared that she wanted to play with Master Windu. That caused quite the ruckus in the chamber. Some, like Plo and Yaddle, advocated for it. They said it would create more trust and connection between Masters and Initiates. Others like Eeth declared that Ahsoka was a menace but a cute one and should be experienced at least once. The last group consisted of those who decided that Ahsoka should be stopped from causing even more disorder, but they didn’t want to spend resources on that endeavor.
Which leads to now. Shaak stands next to Ahsoka who tugs at Plo’s taloned fingers. She admits that Ahsoka is quite cute but everyone knows to never underestimate her.
“Master Windu is here. I know it!” Ahsoka beams, and Shaak smiles at her. Force, she is adorable . Big eyes, stubby montrals, grinning lips. As a member of the same species, she’s filled with a surge of maternal warmth. Shaak always wondered why Ahsoka never clung to her then realized that Ahsoka “attacks” members she wasn’t familiar with. After spending a lot of time with her and Plo, Ahsoka probably filed Shaak as a member she knew well, a thought that makes Shaak particularly happy.
“I don’t feel him here, little ‘Soka. Why don’t we try the next floor?” Plo says, guiding his foundling with a gentle hand. Shaak loves watching after Ahsoka and other younglings, but in some instances, she needs to curb the girl from causing damage.
“Don’t you have homework, Ahsoka? Master Koon and I can take you back to the crèche,” Shaak says with a smile, but Ahsoka blinks slowly at her.
“No homework,” she says, pouts. She tugs harder on Plo’s hand, “He’s here! I can feel him.” Shaak shares a look with Plo who turns the other way. If two Jedi Masters can’t feel Mace, how could Ahsoka?
“Master Ti is right. Even if you don’t have homework, we can do other things. How does hide and seek sound?” Ahsoka frowns.
“Yes, Ahsoka. The three of us can play hide and seek like Master Plo said. Is that good?”
“I wanna play with Master Windu,” she says and stomps her foot on the ground. Oh dear. It’s tantrum time. Shaak opens her mouth but Plo speaks first.
“We’ll look around this floor then leave. Okay?” Shaak glares at Plo whose Force presence radiates cheekiness. Shaak feels slightly betrayed.
“Yay!”
Mace isn’t hiding. He isn’t . Why would he— Jedi Master, Vaapad creator, and the Order’s champion— hide? Nothing on Coruscant could scare him enough to make him hide. Not even massive, terrifying beasts or ancient Sith ghosts strike fear through him. If he were to see an enemy, he’d take them down immediately, seeing the shatterpoints and taking advantage of weakness. He is Mace Windu , for Force sakes and-
Well. The point is that Mace isn’t hiding because there’s nothing to hide from, and he’s better than that anyway. Mace simply wants to sit in a little corner of the Temple, content to be alone. Yes, he prefers peace and quiet over the long, boring Council meetings (which, as the Master, he probably shouldn’t say but kriff it). His little corner is tucked away in a mostly unused hallway. In the middle of the day like this, most Initiates attend classes, Padawans train with their Masters, and Knights rest or prepare for missions. Only the occasional Temple Guard plows through. Mace has enough control with the Force to conceal his signature and not bring suspicion to his… unusual relaxation spot.
He closes his eyes and controls his breathing. The corner is a far cry from his own quarters (which aren’t that comfortable anyway), but it’s a moment of isolation at least. For each feeling and thought at the forefront of his mind, he assesses them then lets go. Some feelings are easy to drop. The slight flare of annoyance at the lack of special pastries in the mess hall flies away without hesitation. Others, like his frustration at today’s meeting, are harder to release. Kriff, why did Qui-Gon and his Padawan have to overthrow a monarchy? Sure, they got the mission done but seriously? Mace doesn’t know whether to be angry at his friend or the Council or himself.
Regardless, Mace pushes all feelings away, and his mind clears. It’s comforting to have an empty head, a place where his thoughts are just that. Thoughts. Nothing real happens in one’s thoughts except for self reflection and, in Mace’s head, shatterpoints.
All the shatterpoints he sees are simple possibilities, what-if scenarios that may never come to fruition. It’s difficult sometimes to see people as who they are , and not what they can do. After decades with the ability, he still struggles with separating the two. It’s especially harder when a growing darkness looms over Coruscant. The Force is cloudier than he’s ever felt it. Maybe that’s why he has such a cranky demeanor. Or maybe his peers are just too damn annoying, and sarcasm is his only coping mechanism. Well. Whatever. With those thoughts, he releases them into the Force and continues breathing.
Mace hears footsteps, ceasing his meditation. He reaches out and curses at what he finds. There, glowing in the Force, Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, and Ahsoka Tano walk towards him. He opens his eyes, scanning the area in search of an escape route. Well, not an escape route, just… an alternate pathway for him to continue his search for peace. After looking around, he slumps in his position. He, with a great amount of ignorance, trapped himself into his corner. How wonderful. Mace tries again, almost with an air of desperation as the sound of footsteps increases in volume, but there’s nothing. There’s no way out of his little corner without revealing himself which is the main pur- one of the main purposes he sought the corner for.
The footsteps stop a few feet away from Mace, and he curls impossibly tighter. Kriff. At this distance, he can hear everything the trio says.
“Right here! It's glowy and stuff.”
“There’s no one here, little ‘Soka. It’s an empty hallway.”
“Master Plo is right. We should hurry and get some food from the mess.”
“But-”
“Trouble, there is? Frustrated are you?” Yoda’s voice inserts into the conversation, and Mace sighs. Hopefully Yoda will spare him and allow Mace to leave in peace.
“Master Yoda! Where’s Master Windu? It’s play time.” Mace can hear her pout the last sentence.
“Hmmm, yes. Talented Jedi, Mace is. Good at hiding. Here, you will not find him.” Mace breathes out. Thank the Force for Master Yoda, the ever wise and forgiving Grandmaster. He feels Ahsoka’s presence plummet into disappointment and frowns.
“A few feet away, however, he hides. In a corner, he is.” Wait, what?! No, no, Yoda did not just-
“Master Windu?” Ahsoka Tano’s big eyes stare at him and his coiled body and tilts her head to the side. He sees the pure shock on Shaak’s face and the unwavering rolls of smugness from Plo. Mace composes himself.
“Greetings, Initiate Tano. I’m simply meditating.” Ahsoka nods but her eyes are trained on Mace’s side. What- oh. His lightsaber. Her hand reaches out, and Plo moves to place a hand on her shoulder, stopping her sticky hands from nearing Mace.
“Master Ti, Master Koon, come with me, you must. Many things to do, there are. Will of the Force, this is,” Yoda says then cackles. Mace restrains himself from showing visible signs of anger. Shaak breaks away first, shooting Ahsoka a small smile before leaving. Plo glances at his foundling and speaks up.
“I told you she’ll want to play with you. I’ll see you later, little ‘Soka.” She beams at him then turns her full attention to Mace once Plo leaves.
“So.”
“Hi, Master Windu! Can I see your saber? Pretty, please?” Mace sighs and brings his lightsaber out. The sooner she’s satisfied, the faster he can have some peace. He ignites it, the purple sheen illuminating her eager face. She admires it with little coos then pouts when Mace turns it off. That should be enough entertainment.
He stands up from his position, Ahsoka still watching. “Well, Initiate. You saw the lightsaber. Run along now,” he orders, shooing her away with a hand. She nods, still frowning, but her eyes make Mace pause. There’s a brief flash of something predatory, something hungry. He brushes it away. She’s just a kid, after all.
Mace turns around, eager to return to his duties. The little pitter-patter of skips ring from the opposite side of the hallway, and he sighs, relieved. The last time he had to contend with her had been nothing short of a nightmare. Mace swears he’ll never let a youngling take a nap on him again. Just as Mace reaches the end of the corridor, he feels around his belt to adjust his lightsaber.
Except there’s nothing but air. His fingers graze an empty belt. No familiar metallic hilt, no gentle humming from his crystal. He fumbles around, almost frantically, but his lightsaber really isn't there. Which means…
“Ahsoka Tano,” he mutters. Mace turns around to find an empty hallway, no sign of the pesky thief. He curses under his breath and hurries his pace. There aren’t many places she could hide, and when he reaches into the Force, there’s nothing there. Kriff. How can she hide her signature completely? Mace knows she has a lot of potential with the Force but this? Performing an advanced Force technique as a youngling?
He breaks into an almost-sprint and feels the eyes of passersby stray to him. At least the Temple guards have masks. After a few more minutes of searching, there’s still no visible sign. No inkling at all about Ahsoka’s whereabouts. Already, he mourns for his lightsaber. He’ll get it back regardless, but who knows what damage a crazed youngling could do to his precious weapon?
He feels a small nudge in the Force and chases after it. Mace controls his steps then— like a whisper in the wind— he hears a muffled giggle. Mace stops, straining his ears. The giggles remain, and he follows it to a small alcove in the wall. As he nears, he can feel the gentle, comforting presence of his crystal. Almost there…
Ahsoka dashes from the wall and runs at full speed, throwing a toothy grin at him. She grips his lightsaber in her hand, and zaps away. Well, if that’s the game, Mace will play. He can be a damn good hunter after all.
He sprints after her, arms pumping at his sides. He’s faster than her, but she’s much too agile and flexible for him. She dashes between random people, jumps over stairs, slides under benches. It would be too much for anyone else, but Mace is not some random Jedi. No, he’s the Master of the whole Order. A Togruta child is no match for him.
Ahsoka leads him into a public, outdoor area, scores of Jedi milling about enjoying their day. Most stop to see the commotion then freeze at the sight. Mace pays them no mind. Ahsoka darts in between stray obstacles, and Mace admires her strategic chase. She’s clearly using her strengths to her advantage, utilizing the Force to quicken her reflexes and distracting him. Ahsoka even howls in glee and taunts him, sticking a tongue out at one point. Of course, he can see her vulnerabilities and weak spots; his shatterpoint ability shows him all. A gentle Force push, and she’d trip with enough momentum to release his lightsaber. There are multiple ways to get it back. As Mace mulls over his next decision, Ahsoka runs.
Mace lets her. If he were to go full speed, she would be no match for him. He sweats, not because he’s tired, but because the sun is out. Besides, the exercise is enjoyable, possibly even fun. He hasn’t run like this in a long time. Mace spies Ki-Adi Mundi up ahead and slows a bit. “Stop her, Mundi,” he barks. “She has my saber.”
Ki-Adi looks at him with pity and shakes his head. He hears Ahsoka giggle. “Sorry, Master Windu. There’s nothing I can do.” Next to Ki-Adi, Saesee chuckles. Amazng. Mace loves his loyal Council members.
No matter, Mace continues his chase. Ahsoka leads him back into a mostly empty hallway. Her steps slow, and her breathing grows heavier. Mace admits that he’s a tad more tired than before. Without warning, she halts, and Mace almost careens into her.
She turns, grinning, and hands him his lightsaber without hesitation. He takes it and doesn’t know whether to scold her or walk away and spare himself more interaction with the girl. Before he can decide, Ahsoka hugs his legs.
“Thanks, Master Windu,” she says, her voice muffled against his robes.
“What-”
“For playing tag. I love tag! You’re good. Like Master Plo.” Mace shoves the image of Plo running away from Ahsoka out of his mind and thinks instead about the situation. They were playing tag . Stealing his lightsaber was a ruse, a manipulation technique. He feels tricked. Deceived. A pawn in Ahsoka Tano’s game. The idea is jarring, and he’ll never admit it. So he sucks it up and regains his composure.
“Yes, I’m very good at tag. I was the best in my clan,” he says then pauses. He didn’t lie, but it’s been quite a while since he thought about his clan mates. Mace always beat Qui-Gon in races (the other was more content to sit in the dirt), and his only real competition had been Eeth, and the man was a Zabrak for Force sake. His childhood feels so far away now, a distant memory.
“Really? That’s cool,” Ahsoka says, breaking away. She holds her arms up in a universal sign of “hug” but Mace knows the truth; he’s seen Plo do this many times before. Sighing, he picks the girl up in his arms, and she curls into his chest. The top of one of her montrals almost stabs his eye, and he stomps down a flare of annoyance.
“Tired,” she says, snuggling deeper into the embrace. Mace rolls his eyes, and begins walking towards the crèche. He can see her in the Force now, and reaches out. Mace senses a calming tiredness and an overwhelming amount of satisfaction. Well.
“Next time, don’t steal my lightsaber,” he scolds with the same voice he uses to scare Knights. While they cower, she simply hums.
“Next time? More tag?” She asks, pulling back from his chest and looking up. Mace didn’t intend to insinuate another game of tag, but she looks so damn hopeful that he sighs.
“If I’m not busy, then we can maybe play tag again. Is that clear, Initiate Tano?” She nods with a toothy grin. Mace can’t deny that she’s adorable. Adorably scary. Ahsoka doesn’t say anything more, content to cuddle against Mace. He hasn’t hugged someone like this in a long time.
Mace thinks of Depa and how she was probably the last person to hug him. He remembers how young she was when he rescued her from pirates. When he took her on as his Padawan. Now, she’s a capable Master with a seat on the Council. He feels a lot of pride when he looks at her and hears of her achievements. While he contributed greatly to her learning, Depa’s success is entirely her own.
Sometimes, he acknowledges that he misses her. He shouldn’t; attachments are forbidden. But- he’ll always see Depa as a daughter even if it’s wrong. There’s a large part of him that’s empty, that’s stayed empty since she passed her Trials and became a Knight. Now, they barely see each other outside the Council meetings. She’s a busy person and has only taken on more dangerous missions as a Master. Depa will do great things in her career (has done great things), but he worries about her nonetheless. She walks the Light and Dark like him, yet there’s always the temptation of Falling. Mace will never surrender himself to darkness, but the same can’t be said of Depa.
He’s scared that if she Falls, it will be because of him. That it’ll be his fault because he taught her Vaapad; he showed her the temptation first.
Mace shoves that thought out. Depa will never Turn if Mace has any say in the matter. Never. He nears the crèche, arms still cradling the girl. Ahsoka fell asleep a while ago, her little snores muffled into his robes. The situation reminds him of when he found her sleeping atop Plo in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
As he enters the crèche, the other younglings turn to him with awe, a tinge of fear, and a lot of confusion. He gently lays Ahsoka down, careful with her lekku and montrals. She holds a hand out, reaching for him, then drops it to her chest. When he looks at her, he sees Plo’s reflection. For a while, Mace considered confronting Plo about his attachment. Attachments lead to obsession and fear and the Dark Side. But Plo’s relationship with Ahsoka is so pure and full of Light that he never bothered with the conversation. Already, the pair have the makings of an incredible bond that could last decades. The Force sings whenever they’re together.
When he sees Plo and Ahsoka hugging, Mace thinks of Depa and himself.
Mace tucks Ahsoka in, not bothering to acknowledge the many eyes following his every action. Against his better judgement, he rubs a gentle hand along the side of her face, and she nuzzles into it. He whispers a small goodbye, projecting a wave of calm through the Force. As he leaves the crèche, Mace decides to contact Depa soon. And Eeth. And Qui-Gon. Not for official Jedi business but as family.
After all, attachments are forbidden but love is not.
a/n: Yoda totally wasn’t the one leading Ahsoka to Mace and also never hid Ahoska’s force signature. Nope ;)
I know Shaak wasn’t on the council during/ before Phantom Menace, but I wanted another Togruta there for some representation. Also there isn’t as much cute Ahsoka stuff but she’s the cutest when with Plo and a terror with everyone else so…
#ahsoka#mace windu#toddler ahsoka#clone wars#star wars fanfiction#jedi council#the danger of cuteness
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