#padme/Sabè

[ultrainstinctslasher]

Do you guys think Sabè listens to ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ By Chappell Roan and thinks of Padmè

[snipsnipsnippy]

Everyday, I think too hard about the Luke and Leia’s exchange where she remembers her birth mother.

“Leia, do you remember your mother? Your real mother?”

“Just a little bit. She died when I was very young.”

“What do you remember?”

“Just images, really. Feelings.”

“She was very beautiful, kind...but sad.”

And how canon just…. forgot about it.

I propose mom Sabè.

Hear me out, Leia is born, Bail takes new baby home, Breha cuddles her new daughter, but he had said something to Obi-Wan about forging the adoption papers. And like, I’m not gonna speak on Alderaanian adoption procedures because I don’t know. We don’t know, okay. But generally, adoption takes time. Hella time. And we get this impression from Alderaanian culture or maybe just Breha that, despite being the literal queen, she doesn’t like to put the royal family ahead of the rest of the citizens. Like Leia goes to special royal events and training and whatnot, but she also has normal ass school and meets normal ass people. So sure, they can forge adoption papers because this is a very special circumstance, but it needs to look as normal as possible. They can’t just pull a baby out of nowhere and show up with a newborn they surprise adopted.

So? They need a stand-in mom who will be sympathetic to their case, not ask questions and not make a deal of it. Preferably someone who would do literally anything for Padmè. Had they mentioned it to her, she would have been there, and she’s been acting and keeping secret strategies her whole life. Sabè loved this woman with her whole heart. Hated Anakin, ofc, but she would have loved that little girl who looked just like her best friend.

And of course, she would be sad. Her other half is gone. All that’s left is her daughter who looks so much like her. And she knows she only gets to know this baby for a limited time. Maybe it was weeks, or months, or even years. We do know Leia was with the Organas by the time she was 2-3.

So that’s the mom I think Leia remembered. And maybe she did feel glimpses of Padmè and the two became one in her mind. They did used to swap places so that no one could tell them apart. So maybe all of her memory of her mom was just a vision.

But I like to think her closest Auntè got to know her and love her even for a little bit.

[hypersped]

Sabè is gay and delusional pick a fucking struggle queen you're so much better than this. The galaxy is so huge you can do so much better

[disneyprincessbuffyannesummers]

it’s okay. we all know sabé would find out. since sabé would die for padmé if she had too.

people who might've known about anidala:

Obi-Wan Kenobi (this is confirmed in a deleted scene and also the revenge of the sith novel),

Ahsoka Tano (she shows up at Padme's funeral and talks with Bail Organa),

Bail Organa (he attends Padme's funeral and was a close friend of Padme's during their time in the senate),

Motee (Padme's handmaiden who'd body-double for Padme when Anakin and Padme go on dates),

Elle (Another one of Padme's handmaidens who'd also body-double for Padme)

[kalak]

Her feather dress in tpm is everything

[spell-cleaver]

So the latest Vader issue came out and Anakin is still projecting HARD onto Sabè (like when she accepts his offer to work alongside him and take his hand, he imagines Padme and Luke doing the same...) Can someone get this man a therapist please?

Agshdhjshdjd I think the therapist would get strangled, ngl. I’m not keeping up with the comics but from what snippets I’ve seen I’m thinking I really need to catch up.

[ekjohnston]

Random question: does Sabè have a last name? I assume Nabooians have them in general since Padme has one. I didn't see anything on Wookieepedia but I thought maybe you had secret knowledge. :D

FUNNY STORY

I FORGOT

Because we "meet" Sabé differently than we meet the others, it just never came up, and then the book was published, and I was all "...oops."

Gotta leave something for fanfic.

[percentstardust]

@mactabilis | continued from here

Leia has always wanted to meet her mother. She knew it was impossible. Her mother was dead, something she learned early on in life. Her father doesn't speak of her much. Leia doesn't even know how she died, didn't bother to ask since it was something that caused her father emotional distress. What Leia does know is that she looks like her mother. Her father says this from to time. He's been said she reminds him of Padme. It isn't enough for her, she's always wanted to leave and visit Naboo. At least to somehow connect with her deceased parent and to cope with her death in someway. Asking her father if she can go, even for a short visit is out of the question. She is due to leave Mustafar in a year for she is to join the junior senate for a time. He is at least granting that to her. Maybe she can convince him to let her go one day.

For now, the dark lord is away. She is not left alone when he is gone. She has a nanny, a governess she's called now. Sabè, one of her mother's former handmaidens. The mission he is on has taken him away for some time and she longs for him to come back, their force bond making her feel empty without him near. She's thirteen, she's ready to go on missions with him. Sabé had left her alone to attend to her Sith training. Her meditation period was when she did not want to be disturbed. Sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, her thoughts linger on her mother. The older she gets, the more she wants to learn about her.

The arrival of Padme is not something the young girl was expecting. Was this a trick? Another test? She has always wished to meet her mother. Did the Force send her? What was going on? She stands, not sure if she should move closer.

"You can't be real." She whispers. "You're supposed to be dead---I was told you died. You can't be here." No one has ever come for her, not after her father took her from the Organas. Not that they could do anything to save her. It isn't like she feels like she needs to be rescued from him. "This is a trick." She says as she steps backwards.

[chokemeanakin]

Give Me Love

Chapter Ten

Wc: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

“Master,” Anakin faltered on his way to the piloting chair. His eyes lingered on you for a long moment, unreadable. “I was wondering where you’d run off to after Grievous fled. Looks like you’ve earned yourself another vacation.”

Grievous had thrown him off a building? You’d heard legends about how awful the part-human mostly-droid General was, but you’d never been at the same battle as him before. A small part of you wished to see if the stories people told about him were true-- if he really was the feared Jedi-killer he was known for being all across the galaxy.

“That won’t be necessary this time,” Kenobi was thankful for the banter. It gave him an excuse to get his mind off the searing pain in his arm. “Thankfully, I have Y/n here to fix me up good as new.”

“You’re right. She is extremely capable, isn’t she?”

His eyes twinkled, just slightly so that only you could catch it. You smiled, chest blooming with warmth as your fears were all washed away. Things weren’t different because he’d been gone for so long. He still cared for you, the same as you cared for him. The war couldn’t change that.

“I would trust no one more with my saber arm,” Kenobi grunted again as you began to wrap gauze around his shoulder, fitting it into a makeshift sling.

“Enough flatter,” you hushed them both, though the smile was evident on your face. “Keep this ice on your shoulder and take it off if it goes numb. And don’t move too much-- we won’t know if you broke a bone until we get you x-rayed.”

You let him take over holding the ice pack to his shoulder, reaching into your medcase for some painkillers. You were scraping the bottom of the bottle, honestly surprised you even had any left to spare.

“Lucky you, you get the last two.”

Kenobi grunted in an attempt to laugh, and swallowed the pills you gave him. After waving off your attempts to get him to lie down somewhere, he stood with a groan and braced himself on the back of Anakin’s piloting chair. He began to heckle him, trying to kick him off so you could have a look at his head.

“What’s wrong with your head?” Your heart stuttered in your chest. You had seen a trickle of blood on his cheek, but that was it.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin growled at Obi-Wan, but gave his seat up anyway so the injured man could sit. He pressed a few more buttons on the piloting interface, putting the ship on autopilot as he stepped away. “Y/n, I’m fine.”

You were already pushing him by the shoulders to sit on the chair Obi-Wan had previously been occupying. He sat with a huff, crossing his arms childishly as you turned his face in your hands.

“See?” he mumbled. “Nothing to worry about.”

His forehead had been gashed open, from the top of his hairline to the tip of his eyebrow. Your blood began to beat thicker in your veins, the panic causing your stomach to knot as you got to work dabbing the blood away with some alcohol cloths. It looked worse than it was-- the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but it had bled a lot. Head wounds always do.

He winced slightly as you cleaned the wound, the half-second of pain crumpling his face causing your movements to freeze.

“I’m sorry,” you stroked his jaw with your other hand, the one that was holding his face steady. You hoped it would distract him from the sting.

Those blue eyes stared at you the entire time, unperturbed. “It’s okay, really. I’ve had worse.”

You assumed he was right. If this scratch was all he’d come out with after weeks on the battlefield, he was either really lucky or really skilled. You guessed it was both. The evidence of less fortunate encounters rested on his right thigh, clad in a leather-buckled glove. You couldn’t even imagine what that pain had been like.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said this quietly, so Obi-Wan wouldn’t hear. Anakin brought his flesh arm up to hold your hand to his face, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of your soft, smooth skin. He had desperately missed your touch, your voice, those steely eyes and that gentle strength. After so long wishing you were there to curl up beside him in the off chance he got to rest, you were finally here. Now, he was going to be selfish and make up for that lost time.

“We’ll be right back,” Anakin called to Obi-Wan with his eyes still closed, hand still holding your palm against his cheek. “Y/n’s going to come to engineering with me to help repair my arm.”

“Your arm? You mean the metal one? I didn’t know it was damaged.”

“Just a little waterlogged. Shouldn’t take too long… or maybe it will. We’ll see.”

Anakin stood, the tips of his fingers tickling yours. He led you out of the room, through the halls of the cruiser, slipping into an unoccupied resting room and slamming the lock on it.

“If you’re expecting me to know how to help you with your arm, you are very mistaken,” you admitted. “I know nothing about mechanics.”

Anakin blinked at you, and then laughed. That glorious, glorious laugh. His arms fell to his waist, where he unclasped his belt and then discarded it on the desk. His tabards came next, and then the robes underneath. You ogled him as he stripped, a steady flame rising to your cheeks, thawing out the weeks of grey-nothingness.

“Umm.. Anakin.. what are you doing?”

It was suddenly very hard to swallow as his bare middle was exposed to you, rippling with muscle. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you were frozen in your spot, unable to do anything but stare.

“I’m getting out of these wet clothes so I can properly hold you,” he explained, bending down to dig through the drawers underneath the metal cot. He turned to eye you up and down, shamelessly lingering on every inch of your body. “I suggest you do the same.”

“Huh?” You looked down, seeing the blood stains splattered all over you. “Oh.”

He was pulling a loose-fitting recreational shirt over his head, the same kind that was supplied in all resting rooms for people to wear if they wanted to sleep in something more comfortable. You were still rooted in your spot, forcing yourself to gather enough wits to unzip your field suit.

All you were wearing underneath was a black undersuit, tight enough to leave little to the imagination. It was meant to keep you warm and wick away moisture, not to be seen in by any incredibly sexy Jedi Knights. Your heart hammered in your chest, skin beginning to sweat as his eyes probed into you.

“You need help unzipping?”

“Uh… I got it,” your fingers snapped to your zipper, now that he was watching you, you didn’t want to be a fumbling idiot.

You were glad for when he seemed to become enamored by the state of his clothes, and you knew it was for your sake. Still, it did little to calm the pounding of your heart as the suit dropped to your ankles, every inch of your black-spandex clad body now available to his eyes.

Get it together. Your chest was visibly moving up and down as you fought to control your breathing, almost panting with anxiety. It’s not like you were naked. What a fucking virgin.

He turned from his pile of clothes, those blue eyes making no effort to hide the way they scanned you up and down. All you could do was stand there at his mercy, burning under that stare.

You expected him to frown. To snarl and pull away and tell you to get dressed again. How disgusted, he should be, you thought. How appalled.

You knew you didn’t have the best body. You’d been to enough nightclubs, seen enough people naked in your workstation, watched enough programs on the holonet to know that. You had always wanted to be like Ahsoka and Sabè— they were slim and toned, long and graceful. Their cheeks were sharp, their fingers elegant, and waists tiny. Your thoughts turned to Padme— his past lover— horrifying you further.

You were nothing like her.

That tiny frame, the beautiful face, and the perfect body. She was so smart, so important, and shaped so womanly. You were nothing to compare.

How could he even stand to look at you?

“Okay, I guess I’ll come to you then,” that silky voice teased, and suddenly you were wrapped in a pair of big, strong arms. It took a moment for your breath to return to your lungs before you realized he hadn’t pushed you away, and instead he was clutching you to his body like a starving man.

“I missed you,” he breathed into your ear, cementing this reality. Your body erupted in a flurry of butterflies, warming you from the inside out.

He didn’t care. He didn’t care. He still liked you. He missed you. Even after seeing your body like this.

“I missed you, too,” you returned his words with emotion thickening your voice, bringing your arms up to wrap around him as well. He sighed at the feeling of your arms on his back, melting further into your neck.

“Wanna move this to the bed?”

He did most of the work shuffling your embrace onto the metal cot, lying down and pulling you so that you were on top of him. You were beginning to think you actually just had a heart condition, because it was beating out of rhythm constantly now, your pulse spiking and temperature rising at this new position.

You loved it.

He was hard, and warm, and strong beneath you. You were able to lay your head on his chest, stare at the exposed skin of his neck as he rested his chin on your head. Your legs slotted between his, so long in comparison to yours, while his arms secured you to his body around your back.

You’ve never felt safer in your entire life.

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder. Were you crushing him? Was he uncomfortable? What if he was and he was just too polite to make you get off? These thoughts caused you to tense up in his arms, suddenly rigid with fright.

“What’s wrong?” He caught onto your worries immediately. His hand smoothed up and down your back, hoping to soothe your tense muscles.

Maker, you were sick of being the insecure one in this relationship. You wanted nothing more to lie on the man you adored’s chest. Anyone else could do it. Why couldn’t you?

Relax. You hissed at yourself. Relax relax relax relax relax—

“Am I making you uncomfortable again?” The pieces clicked in his head, and the brush of his hand against your back stopped. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I should have asked—“

“No.”

You wiggled your body, wordlessly begging him to resume his motions. You clutched tighter to his shoulders, dug your head deeper into chest, even turned to plant a small, lingering kiss to his collarbone.

“You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

“Yeah?” The smile was evident in his voice.

“Yes.”

You could never ask someone to make more of an effort to make you feel comfortable around them than Anakin did. And he did it with no price held over your head, no expectations, no pressures. If your timid nature put him off, he never let you see it. Honestly, you were surprised he was still here. Any other guy, you wholeheartedly believed, would be running in the other direction when they realized you couldn’t even hold eye contact with them for longer than 5 seconds.

But this shyness— it was exclusive to Anakin. You wouldn’t be this way with anyone else, and it frustrated you to no end.

The least you could do was prove that his patience was paying off, and take a leap yourself.

You planted your hands on either side of his body, pushing yourself up so that you were hovering right over his face. Your knees followed, holding your weight as you sat yourself onto his lap.

Scandalous, for the amount of clothes you were wearing.

A surge of confidence ran through you at the surprise that crossed his features. His eyes were wide, confused, as you took his face in your hands, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

This was your domain. You had always been the mynx of the group, luring men in and then leaving them cold. You loved the power it gave you, the ability to promise everything and then take it all away. It left them yearning for you, begging for you. And you loved it.

Sabè and Ahsoka were entertained to no end, watching you string along guys all night just to leave them hanging by the end. It was all a game to you, the flirting and teasing and wooing. You loved to feel needed, to feel wanted, but you never actually planned to do anything more with them.

So when the night ended, and you wanted to go home, you would break the game off and leave them feeling cold, and angry, and cheated. That’s when you’d get cussed out by egotistical whiny men, demeaned and degraded until their little hearts felt satisfied. To be fair, you never promised that anything would happen. It was simple flirting. It was completely on them that they expected things to go any further than that.

That’s why when Anakin came around, you felt like you had been run over by a speeder. He was the only one capable of making you feel like a bug next to him. Every moment he had you tripping and stumbling, your heart stuttering out of time, your cheeks burning with bashfulness, you hated yourself. How could you let one man have that kind of effect on you? It was pathetic.

But now, you were determined to get a little part of your old self back. You wanted to feel in control again, to have that power. He was just a man, after all, and most men were the same. You just needed to dangle, and they’d be all over you.

You continued to smooth his bangs away with the tip of your finger, ignoring the adorable look of confusion he had on his face. Actually, he seemed to really be enjoying himself despite not understanding where this was coming from, so much that his eyes were closing and he was thinking about maybe taking a little nap.

With his eyes closed, it was easier to lean your face in further. Your eyes zeroed in on those perfect pink lips, so full and inviting and soft, even after weeks of brutal combat. You wondered how they would feel on your own, how he would respond to you kissing him. You could imagine the way he might sigh and cup your face, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper. Sharp pangs of longing twisted your stomach into knots.

Anakin could feel your soft breath on his lips. His heart thrummed in his chest, fingers tightening on your waist. Were you going to—?

He was ready for it, no matter what it was.

Just as he was sure you were going to press your lips against his, you pulled away, planting a teasing kiss to his cheek instead. With no explanation, you fit your head back onto his shoulder, lying down against his body again.

What was that all about?

He opened his eyes, glancing down to see you resting with your head buried in your neck. You were like a kitten, breathing quickly and softly, a small smile curling your lips.

He dismissed the thoughts to analyze for another time. Right now, his body ached and his head throbbed. Your figure was soft and warm against his, and your calming presence was making his eyelids grow heavy. He decided to take your lead, and followed you off to sleep.

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[outerstars]

Some more star wars headcanons cause I was, again, bored.

Padme and Beru were pen pals after they met in AOTC. Beru was the first person to figure out that Padme and Anakin were married, and Padme was so glad. She found the younger girl calm and easy to talk to, and alot of fun (you can only gossip with droids to a point about your secret marrige to your jedi protector.)

Luke can and will sleep anywhere. He has a special talent for curling up in the oddest places and instantly falling asleep (he is the only one in both his biological and adopted family to have this power). It wasn't an odd occurance to find him huddled in his x-wing fast asleep or in his bathtub just nodding off, or even in some tiny cupboard in the middle of nowhere because eithe base became to loud.

Bail was the only one who did leias hair. He had a particular talent for it, most likely due to his older sisters. Leia didn't expect Breha or Sabè doing it, because she knows they will mess it up (years later, long after Bail Organa had taken one last look at the sky to see an out of place moon, Luke became the only one who could do Leias hair right.)

Han had an older sister. He doesn't remember her at all, only small vague memories here and there, but he finds comfort in them. (He doesn't remember her dying, and he feels he would remember that, so he holds on hope.)

Luke loves painting. And he is good at it. Often he just paints random objects, some fruit or eyes, an odd extra realistic x-wing. But sometimes, he draws these incredible masterpieces of vivid battles and brutal space fights. Mothma herself has said that some of them seem familiar to her. The oddest thing about them is that all the faces of the people, are completely blurred out. (Luke's favorite was one of an orange skin togruta and a dark blonde haired man fighting some unknown enemies but he lost it when they had to quickly evacuate the base.)

Ahsoka found a painting while exploring an abandoned rebel base. She clearly remembered the battle depicted in it, in fact she remembered the exact words that Vader Anakin was saying in the captured moment. She doesn't know how it came to be, but she is desperate to find who ever created it. (There is a small name scrawled in the corner, so messy she immediately thought of her old master)

Vader also found one of these mysterious paintings (that were not that mysterious) of a young brunette holding a fair haired child and another small bundle. He believes it was created to mock him, so he destroyed it. (He never even considered the idea that the bundle was another baby.)

[personarider]

Queen's Shadow by @ek_johnston dives deep into the culture, history and ethos of Naboo as embodied by Padmè and her Handmaidens. Part Political intrigue, part personal portrait, all deftly executed. |Book Review #StarWarsQueensShadow #StarWars #Pad

[chokemeanakin]

Give Me Love

Chapter Three

Wc: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

All along, Anakin knew what he was doing. He could sense the crush you had on him since the night he had thanked you for saving Ahsoka. He didn’t even have to reach out to feel the effect he had on you-- your force signature sizzled with nerves, so strong sometimes it twisted his own gut.

He thought it was cute, until he realized the strength of your anxiety hadn’t faded, even weeks after you had first met. Then, he grew worried. Was your bashfulness not of infatuation? Were you actually scared of him? What had he done to make you feel that way?

His concerns grew stronger as he tried time and time again to catch your eye. To get you to carry a conversation with him. He would watch you from across the room, laughing and gesturing wildly with your hands as you talked with Sabe and Ahsoka. But when he came around, always, you would pull away-- duck your head, soften your voice, recede back into that shell of yours. He just wanted you to talk to him.

So when the opportunity to walk you home from Dex’s came from his scheming Padawan, there was no way he could refuse. Sure, he’d just gotten done with his Jedi duties for the day, and he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to shower and hit the pillow. But your company and attention was dangled over his head— a chance to understand you better, understand why you avoided him like the plague-- obviously he had to take it.

That night, it was confirmed that you liked him. You liked him a lot. He felt the waves of your burning heart crackle over his skin, sink its way into his own veins. He was giddy with flatter, but something else buzzed at the back of his mind. It added a pep to his walk as he raced down the apartment steps, opening the door up to the fresh night air, sucking in a deep breath to soothe his sparking nerves at the sudden revelation:

He liked you.

He had suspected, when your sweet face appeared in his dreams for the third night in a row. And then, when he heard your timid voice come over Ahsoka’s com—

“Hello, General Skywalker”— his stomach did a funny little flip.

When he had said your name in the starfighter hangar, he felt that gushing warmth leak off of your force signature, and a similar feeling encouraged a fond triumph he felt at being able to get such a reaction from you.

And again when he knocked on the door to your workstation in the medbay— the one he found because Ahsoka had given him the room number after a careful inquisition— and he had seen you covered in blood like the first time you guys met.

That first day on Hyloth, he hadn’t really been paying attention. His Padawan had very nearly died, and he couldn’t focus on the wide-eyed fawn sitting across from him that had just worked magic with her hands, saving his apprentice’s life.

But now, the thought of those steely eyes had him spurning to action. He had been searching for an excuse to get you alone for weeks, when finally— that ticket to the hell-gates they call the Opera turned out to be his paradise in disguise. It was smooth sailing after that.

For you, it was all stress-tears, tugging hair, and trashed closets as Sabe and Ahsoka struggled to help find you something to wear.

“You’re going to come right from your shift,” Sabè pointed out. “Why can’t you just stay in your scrubs?”

“Anakin said we could stop here if I wanted to change,” you answered meekly. “I can’t go to dinner with him in scrubs!”

“But you like your scrubs.”

“He probably doesn’t.”

“Y/n,” Ahsoka caught you by the shoulders. You sniffed tearfully. “Get ahold of yourself. Anakin does not care. You could be wearing a trash bag, for Force sake, and he’d still like you.”

“He’d— what?”

Ahsoka paled. Sabè snickered.

Her words played over and over in your mind on a tape reel. He’d still like you. He’d still like you. He’d still like you.

He likes me?

Your face erupted into flame, and your heart stuttered in your chest. All thoughts left your head except for those four glorious words, growing louder and louder with each passing second, sounding less and less like a dream.

He likes me!

“Gaahh,” Ahsoka moaned, throwing herself onto your bed and crossing her arms fitfully. “This is so training school. I did not tell you that.”

Her sharp Togruta teeth made an appearance at the request/threat, and you nodded automatically. Your head was still fuzzy, but you found your lips moving.

“Did he… did he tell you that?”

90% of you still didn’t believe it. You trusted Ahsoka with every bone in your body, and Ahsoka had no reason to lie, but for some reason you just could not absorb the fact that Anakin motherfucking Skywalker might like you.

It was impossible.

“He didn’t have to,” Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “I know my Master like the back of my hand.”

“But… but how do you know?”

“Please, have you seen the way he looks at you? He’s constantly asking about you— ‘Have you seen Y/n today? Has she done something different with her hair? Will she be coming by the mess hall later? Why doesn’t she want to talk to me?’ He even asked me what your station number was in the medbay yesterday so he could find you— and he thought he was being sneaky about it.”

All these new revelations coming out.. they punched you in the stomach, one by one. The thud of your heart became thick, and your breathing grew labored. Sabè heard the telltale whistle first, and her hand flew to the bedside drawer.

“Easy there, iron-lung,” she teased, tossing you your inhaler. It smacked into your palm, but the flesh was numb as you fumbled with the cap to get it off. You fit the opening between your lips and pressed on the top. The medicine dispensed into your throat, and you sucked in to force it to take action in your lungs. Ahsoka chewed on her lip as she waited for you to inhale another dose before she spoke again.

“You really like him that much?” Her voice was soft.

You nodded, pouting and capping your inhaler. If it wasn’t obvious, you were head over heels for Anakin. You thought she was just now beginning to get the true depth of your feelings.

“Okay,” she ran two stressed hands over her face. “Okay.”

If this was any other Jedi you were talking to, you would have been nervous. The Order forbids attachment, meaning Jedi cannot be in relationships. They can’t love exclusively. They can’t hold a romantic position in anyone’s life.

That’s why you had tried to hide your feelings about Ahsoka’s Master from her at first. Why she had such a hard time getting it out of you— you naturally assumed she was just as strict on that rule as the rest of the Jedi. But then… after a girls night out, where you, Sabè, and Ahsoka were sitting at a table in a nightclub, having some fun and shooting back far too many shots… she let the truth slip out.

Too many truths, really, and none her own.

She slurred about how angry Anakin made her. How he kept secrets from her, and how much it hurt that he wouldn’t trust her. Trust her with what?

With his relationship.

You and Sabè had reeled back, and then laughed. Anakin? In a relationship? Impossible! Ridiculous! It was forbidden. But Ahsoka wasn’t laughing. She explained how he was in love with Padme Amidala, the Senator from Naboo.

Sabè stopped laughing. That was her boss, and she was second in command to the woman. They worked closely together all their lives. You watched as Sabè’s mind whirled, and slowly the pieces clicked together.

It could make sense. I’ve seen her slip away a few times… seen her come back all flushed and giddy… like a girl in love.

Your heart dropped. It had been plummeting ever since Ahsoka mentioned Anakin was in a relationship. It felt like it was being torn out straight from your chest.

That’s not allowed, you protested. As if that could change anything.

You should know by now, Anakin rarely cares for the rules. He’s loved Padme since he was a little boy— nothing was going to stop him from having her.

You tried to hide your wince with each stinging word. More than anything else, you wanted to just stop talking about it. To forget you ever found out, and live in that blissful fantasy you’d created in your mind where anything was possible. Every new truth that saw light felt like an ice cold bucket over your head, smudging out your burning heart. But you had to ask, just to see her stance on it...

You’ve been keeping it a secret?

Of course I’m keeping it a secret. I know he’d do the same for me. And she made him happy, so I didn’t really see the harm. Sometimes… I wish I could have what he and Padme had. I think it should be allowed.

And then.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. He was a wreck when they broke up. Wouldn’t talk to anyone for days. Not even me. Why won’t he trust me?

Your heart paused in it’s free-fall.

Why’d they… why’d they break up, do you think?

I did overhear him and Obi-Wan discuss her when they thought I was sleeping. Obi-Wan was asking why the two never spoke anymore when they had once been great friends. All Anakin said was that she was using him for political gain. ‘She had the voice, but I made it echo,’ is what he said. It makes sense. The Senate views him as a hero, and if they knew she was good friends with him, more votes would sway in her direction.”

Your insides were spitting confetti, cheering bells ringing in your head. A calm ocean of relief washed over you— nothing to worry about. Anakin wasn’t taken. And Anakin had a history of dating. Which meant… feasibly… in your imagination… it wasn’t impossible for what you yearned for so desperately. Your silly little daydreams didn’t look so silly anymore.

It could happen.

Your mind took it and ran, conjuring up all sorts of scenarios where he took you in his arms and declared his love. You thought about it before you fell asleep, woke up to his fading voice swearing his loyalty to you over and over, played it through your head as you completed your everyday procedural tasks in the medbay. They were fantasies— ridiculous and impractical— but they were your comfort to quell the molten burn of your lava heart.

The day after, Ahsoka had woken up with a terrible hangover and an even terrible regret.

You can’t tell anyone I said that, she had cried— the first time you’d ever seen her cry. I promised myself I would never betray Anakin like that.

Of course you wouldn’t go to the Council. She really had to have more faith in you and Sabè. His secret was safe with you, and so was Ahsoka’s similar disregard for the “no attachment” rule.

That’s why you were comfortable with sharing your true feelings about Anakin with her— because you knew she would accept it for what they were, and not freak out and get Anakin kicked out of the order. She had romantic experiences before as well, all of which she’d come to you and Sabè for advice, and then a shoulder to lean on when they didn’t work out.

You really thought the Order should rethink that rule. Two of their greatest Jedi have broken it, and they’re still doing good work for them.

But alas, it had to remain a secret. Just like Anakin’s feelings for you, as it so gloriously turned out.

“Wear the scrubs,” Ahsoka finally got her thoughts in order. She sat up and poked you on the cheek. “He likes seeing you in your element.”

“It’ll take a lot less time, as well,” Sabè chimed in, always the voice of reason. “Dex’s is 8 blocks over. It would be ridiculous to go from the Temple, here, and then backtrack 10 blocks just so you can put on a dress. Besides, it’s Dex’s.”

She was right. You didn’t need to look fancy at all. And if Anakin liked seeing you in your scrubs… well…

Excitement began to battle out the nerves. But— you were still so nervous. You couldn’t help it. It had your stomach churning, nausea rising steadily as each second that passed brought you closer to your dinner with Anakin. Now, with the excitement coupled in, your nerves were beginning to feel burnt out, your mind frazzled and weary. You sat down heavily onto the bed next to Ahsoka, rubbing your forehead with your fingers.

“I can’t take this stress,” you admitted. It was one thing to be buzzing with it every second that Anakin occupied space in your mind. It was another to admit it to your friends out loud— to give in to the insecurities.

“You can,” Sabè leveled a steady gaze into you. Her brown eyes were warm and brave. A politician's confidence with a freedom-fighter’s heart. “Just think of what could happen if things turn out amazing. Think of how proud of yourself you’ll be.”

“Besides, it’s just Anakin,” Ahsoka tried to hammer that statement into you once again, with little luck. “He already likes you. You have nothing to lose.”

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