swanlakex

[swanlakex]

how are you bestiee? haven't seen your posts in a while and omg just read the most recent chapter, so invested

Ahhhh I’m totally ghosting writing rn💔 Trying to farm some inspiration but after a breakup romance makes me wanna barf.. I promise I didn’t give up on u guys tho!! Stay tuned

[swanlakex]

chapter coming soon!! IM SORRYYYY

[swanlakex]

James Kelly is the kind of man that would hang a pair of your panties on his truck’s rear view mirror. Sorry.

[swanlakex]

de toute façon j’ai besoin de louis garrel…

[swanlakex]

literally started using tumblr not too long ago and was totally gonna use a variation of your same username so i feel like we're twinning i also LOVEEEE your writing and all your posts!! 🙂‍↕️👐

omg tysm ballet twin

[swanlakex]

A Silent Light

Chapter 6

“You talk in your sleep, you know.”

You rustled your dreary eyes open, and couldn’t keep them closed when you opened them fully. There was Anakin, shirtless, back turned to you, changing. You stared at his back muscles in awe. He was huge. Strong, obviously. What did you expect, really? He’s a soldier. More than that, a general.

“I’m sorry?” You shake your head.

“You talk in your sleep. Mumble about things.”

“Like what?”

“Me.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please.” Throwing the covers off of you, you suddenly notice how short your dress is. A unbearable desire to hide back underneath the blankets fills you. “How was the floor?”

“Hard.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing. Not like I’d sleep any better in a bed anyways.” He puts on a belt, the metal jangling in your ears. You stand, hair flowing down your shoulders. He turns his head over his shoulder, looks you from head to toe. Lingers at your legs for a beat, then smiles.

“I trust you will change before breakfast, yes?”

Your brows furrow. Duh. You thought.

“Yes, my lord.” You spit coldly before turning to fix the pillowcases.

You hear a door clicking. It swings open. “Ani, my boy.” The gruff voice of his father booms through the room. “Come, we have meetings.”

“Thank god,” you hear Anakin mutter under his breath before fleeing the room.

Breakfast was spent alone at the giant table, served with cold eggs, and more women than you could count whispering about you.

“How old is she?”

“How exotic..”

“She is fair indeed..”

Suddenly, you weren’t very hungry.

———————————————————————————————————————————-

The new castle, despite its respective size and grandeur, felt empty and lifeless. Sure, filled with people, but not yours by any means. These people had stark posture and resting frowns, they spoke quietly and honestly?- had a staring problem. The only solace you found was alone with Esme, usually stood behind an easel, piano, or writing desk.

“So, he slept on the floor?” Esme prodded disbelievingly.

“Yes,” you nod. “I offered to switch, but-“

“He refused?”

“Yes.”

“Strange, so he can call you an ‘ungrateful maid’, but god forbid you sleep on a sofa?”

“He’s the most puzzling person, really. And when I brought up family he just- snapped. I was completely blindsided, Esme. His temper, it is-”

“Out of control?”

You nod again, trying to focus on the canvas in front of you.

“I heard..” Esme said slowly, seemingly readying herself, “Sir Skywalker had lost his mother at a young age,” Esme circles around your shoulder. “The serfs here described her as ‘pure light’, she was the first woman here to open up a school for girls.”

You turn around, astounded. “I had no idea he lost his mother. Wait- for girls? Where is this school now?”

Esme shook her head. “Few years after she had passed, the townspeople set it ablaze. She was looked down upon by the public.”

“What? They burnt it down?”

“Ma douce fille, just wait till you hear what your husband had done about it.” Esme said chillingly, her gaze guarding you.

You sat in silence, waiting for her to speak.

“What? Esme? What did he do?”

“He had killed them. All. Not just by public execution, no. he had them brought to the townsquare as he slaughtered them. With his own hands. Nobody had ever seen anything like it. He was seventeen years old.”

Your blood ran cold. “My god.”

“Since then, his father kept him close by eye, frightened to what he’d become unsupervised. It was years ago, and he issued apologies and grants to the families, but.. It was brutal. Shortly after, his father put him in the military.” Silence ran the room cold.

“He avenged his mother.”

“He murdered seven people.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “..a-and what of his other family? I only see him with King Francis these days. No aunts, uncles, grandparents?”

Esme shook her head as she folded linens and laid them neatly on your bed, sighing as she sat down beside them. “No,” she huffed, “Father’s an only child, and his grandparents died years before he was even born.”

You feel the need to sit, so you throw yourself into the chaise.

“He had a brother, Alaric-”

You whip around. “No.”

Esme blinks slowly and stares at the ceiling. “Lost in battle. Few years ago.”

Suddenly, you begin to feel tears prick your eyes. Losing a parent is devastatingly true to a life eventually, but a brother? A sibling? One that should grow old with you, to love and hold until life ends and becomes again? You tried to wrap your head around the thought of losing Therese or Louis. You couldn’t.

“His brother and mother? And I was never thought to be told? I’m married to a sleepless mourner, for fucks sake. No wonder why he’s so cold!” You began to weep. Not just out of pity for you, but Anakin too. Sure, he was apprehensive and angry, but underneath, he was a boy who lost everything.

Esme stood and kneeled to the chaise, resting her hand on your shoulder. “You never had much say to begin with, my dear. But listen..”

You sniffle, looking to her warm face you’ve known all your life.

“C’est pas grave, mon cher. All you can do now, is muster up love. You are here, Y/N. No change of it. You must make the most of it. I know that this you are capable of. You are strong, you carry this from your father. Light fills every room you are in. Here, you must find the light. He is always here. His love knows no bounds, je said que tu peux le sentir.”

You bring her hand to your face and kiss it. “Esme, what ever would I do without you?” You smile through tears.

“Suffer.” She says sternly as she presses your nose with her index finger. “Now stand up, Princess.” She says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

———————

Late April made the flowers sing. Sunlight poured through the grass as promises of summer kissed the barren trees, readying their blooms. Your coat danced between your feet as you crunched through the soil. Originally, Esme was supposed to be with you, but she got caught up in the stables. She promised to meet up with you later on.

You needed the space to clear your mind anyways. You thought about what she had said, and again, she was right. You just had to make the most of it. Maybe find a new hobby, or visit schoolchildren, you could always take up sewing classes in the town-

“What are you doing here?”

You looked up, but you didn’t have to. You knew him by the boom of the voice, the accusatory tone.

“I’m walking. Is that allowed?”

Anakin looked behind you. “Alone?”

“Esme- my handmaiden- is behind me. It’s just a few yards.”

His glance furrowed. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. There’s bears.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Coming back from meetings. I’m fond of the scenic route.”

“What a romantic you are,” you say sarcastically. “Am I excused now?”

“Let me walk you until Esme catches up.”

“Why?”

“If you get eaten alive, Your Highness, it’s not going to look great on me.”

You just scoff and continue walking, Anakin trailing behind you.

It goes quiet for a while. Then, you speak.

“How did you know my father?”

He catches up beside you. “His father and mine were friends. Met him a couple times, actually. He taught me how to shoot an arrow.”

Your eyes widen a little as you look at Anakin. “You met him? When?”

“Couple years ago. He was very welcoming, always asked me questions and truly cared about the answer. I’m sorry.”

You look down, suddenly unable to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry, too. I heard about your brother.” You brace for impact at the sensitive topic. “Nobody in the world deserves that pain.”

“Maybe I do.” He says softly, looking at the lighted trees.

You continue to walk through the path.

“You must miss him.”

Anakin shakes his head and stares at his moving feet.

“I miss my brother,” he pauses. “like the sea would miss salt if it was taken away.” He says this so matter-of-factly, so gently that if you didn’t hear what he said, you’d figure he was talking about what he had for breakfast yesterday. This alone shocked you, the emotion he showed. It’s hard to realize that this same man slaughtered seven lives before eighteen.

You wanted to say something, but you knew there was nothing to say. You just looked at him, walking on, gazing at the forest around him. He was thinking of his brother, you could tell.

Suddenly, a twig snaps. Anakin whips around, placing a hand on his weapon.

“It’s me! It’s me. Sorry to frighten you.”

You breathe out shakily. “Esme, there you are.”

She walks beside you, arm in arm. “So, there’s six horses. Sebastian, Stanley..“ As Esme trails off, you watch Anakin nod briefly and travel away down the path.

————————-

[swanlakex]

Ok y’all I’m back! Thank you for your support. I’ve decided to name this fic 💀.

Enjoy!

Silent Light

Chapter Five

“It is your wedding night, Y/N.”

“Mother, I am not sleeping with him. He will barely look at me.”

“Whether or not you secure an heir, the court is watching. Knowing. I can feel their displeasing eyes right from where we very stand. You must at least spend the night in the same room as him. He knows this too- just for tonight.”

You squinted at your mother, trying to see if there was a shred of empathy or understanding inside of her. Empty eyes. The party had finally begun to die down, and you couldn’t hide behind fun and family for much longer. You saw Esme and other staff collect dishes and fold tablecloths. You really were grateful you had the ceremony at his estate, grand and glistening with gold, with its truth tucked behind the shining linoleum floor.

As you helped your mother into your family’s carriage, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Louis. He looked at you with a terrible sweetness that said childhood really is over. “Y/N. I wish you to not worry. I will take care of them,” he gestured to your mother and sister in the coach. “Like I had promised Father.” You grinned, feeling an immense pride in your brother. So young, so distinguished. You brought a gentle hand to his cheek.

“My boy,” you whispered with tenderness. “He would be so proud of you. Down here, we all are.” Louis grinned as you brought him into a suffocating embrace. “Write if you need anything, if you have questions, news.. anything at all. Just write, yes? Don’t leave me bored in this castle, my brother.” You laugh as you kiss his head and shoo him to the carriage. He nods in agreement to your wishes, then your family disappears in a trot down the dark, long, winding road.

You lay in a chaise window, drinking up your new room. It was a sight. Large velvety curtains kissing the floor, few bookshelves, grand fireplace. Certainly a dream. You toy with the fabric of your nightgown, anxiously waiting for disaster.

Suddenly, footsteps. A knock. You call them in.

“Your Highness, Sir Skywalker.” A voice of a small man calls out. Then, Anakin walks into the room. He hadn’t meant to stomp, the weight of his boots and the day he had carried through his body. Nevertheless, it made you shift in your seat. The door closed behind him, and he went straight to the washroom. You don’t even recall him glancing toward your way. You heard water running. He must be bathing. At a desperate escape, you grab a book and begin to scan pages. You get a couple chapters in before your eyes are stolen from your head.

“What are you reading?” His voice is sluggish, raspy. You look up, and you can feel your pupils dilate. Wet hair dripping onto the hardwood. Towel hung low around his waist. You watch him breathe slowly, the water running off of his shoulders.

“..The Tempest.”

He nods. “Shakespeare, no?”

You nod quickly.

“One of his last works,” he calls from his shoulder, stepping behind a wall. “It surrounds the act of letting go.”

“So far- It’s confusing.” You say.

“It’s cerebral.” He then steps out into the open room again, in his night shirt and linen pants. You’ve never seen him in such a visible kind-of-way, pure, vulnerable.

You shake your head, understanding that trying to read him is futile. “Mr. Skywal-“

“Anakin. Please.”

“Anakin.” You repeat slowly. “What do you expect to happen this night?”

“I know that this arrangement is not what either of us desired. But it is counterproductive to not be civil. I will-“

“Counterproductive?” Your eyebrows furrow, tears prick your eyes. “I understand you did what you had to do to make your father happy. I know you plan to keep me around for a couple of months then pitch me so you can go back to your works. But- as a woman, Anakin. A doomed, godforsaken woman. My job is to marry. My worth is determined on how many children I bear. Do you not see? If I fail to secure an heir, I will be deemed unsuccessful. Useless. If you divorce me, my livelihood is over. I cannot remarry. I will have no way to support my family or carry lineage. I will be a burden in life. This is all that I have.”

Anakin stood back, eyes blinking. “I have a job too. A purpose. Men shed their blood every day at my word. I am responsible for hundreds of lives- I am responsible for men going home to their families tonight.”

You shake your head. “You do not understand! If you were to retire your duties, you would have a home. A family, people to rule-“

“Family?” He scoffs aggressively. “What do you know about my family?”

“Nothing! I haven’t a clue in the slightest who you are!” You cry out. You struggle down a choked sob, but you’ve always had a habit of letting your emotions get the best of you. “And I am stuck. In this fucking castle.” You pant. “With you.”

For a moment, there is unbearable silence. You both stand there; looking at each other like a puzzle with lost pieces.

“Here, you have all a woman could ask.” He steps closer, eyes harsh and scary. “A beautiful home, grand meals, servants waiting on your hand and foot. I could never understand my father for choosing you. Ungrateful maid.” He spits. You stagger in your guard. With that, he spun around on his heel and fled the room.

You stand there, shaking with anger and grief. You can’t say you were surprised at his actions, but you had never been spoken to so harshly before.

That man, you thought, has a way with hurting.

———————————————————————————————————————————

The stars were twinkling with dull comforts, your knees were pulled up to your chest as you lay on your side. Of course, trying to sleep was useless. You just laid there, pitiful, watching the flicker of the bedside candle dance. You were deep in thought when you heard bickering coming towards your room.

“I don’t care..” You heard a mumble. “She is new.” …

“Wedding night… what will they think?” ….”Man up.”

Then, your door swung open and you shot upright. There stood Anakin, arms crossed and face like stone. Behind him was the King, his father. There was a strange pause in the air before his father hit Anakin on the back and he began to speak.

“Forgive me for my earlier remarks, Highness. It is not becoming of me.”

You looked to his father, a small contempt painted his face.

“Truth is, you are welcome and celebrated here.”

You nod slowly. “T-thank you?”

There was an exchange of hushed whispers. Anakin’s father nudged him into the room. He then left, closing the door behind him. Click! He had locked it. The glance you both exchanged told you Anakin knew too. “Bastard.” He muttered under his breath. He looked up to you. “He’s forcing me to stay here.”

“I see.” If it wasn’t so late, you probably would be more upset than you were. The dark hour and dazed confusion only made it seem.. kind of funny? You suppressed a smile.

“I can move to the chaise-“

“Nonsense.” He interrupted you. He walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a pillow and a quilt.

“Really, it is not a problem. I couldn’t sleep.”

“No? Me either.” Anakin sighed as he struggled to fit his tall body onto the loveseat. He was curled up inside of himself, hands tucked under his chin and ankles crossed.

You let out a chuckle. “Sorry.” You covered your mouth in an effort to stop. It was useless. At your giggling, he let out the slightest grin.

“Maybe the floor would be preferable.” He admitted, slithering out of his position.

You hated yourself for laughing, you were supposed to be enraged at Anakin. But perhaps because it was midnight, or the bubbly drinks, or the long day you’d had, you saw him once, as just a human.

He rested on the floor, tucking an arm underneath his pillow. “Goodnight.”

You laid down in the giant bed all to yourself. “Yes. Goodnight.”

Looking out the window, the moon spilled her light onto the floor. Illuminating Anakin’s face, he was shadowed in pale blue. Your sight traced the outline of his face. You found yourself counting each eyelash.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to forget that remarkable face of his, and drifted off into a dazed sleep.

[swanlakex]

bro when i tell you i literally have my notifications on for your blog for this thats how dedicated i am to reading it asap LMAOO

-work anon

😫😫❤️my heart. dw i got you!!!

[swanlakex]

also for any of you booktok readers out there— just read The Secret History by Donna Tartt. holy shit. sobbed.

[swanlakex]

hey queen its the anon who always reads at work LMAO im just letting you know i'm really looking forward to whenever you post the next chapter 🫶🏻 take however long you need for it i love your writing

hellooo! i understand how you feel girl, ive been refreshing a certain tumblr page almost every day for literal months checking for a new chapter. straight up going insane at this point. so id hate to be the person that takes forever with writing. that being said, i’ve been busy with life things and really im just trying to figure out what exactly i want to do with the fic. how i want it to end up, how i want to introduce plots, how i want to just write it overall. this weekend i will force myself to sit down and type my fingers away, so stay tuned.

thank you for reading!!! means the world to me truly.

(p.s. to all those who have any recommendations or suggestions on what you want to see, or importantly what to name it, i’d be overjoyed in some inspiration!!)

❤️❤️

[swanlakex]

Ok so I’m actually in love with this plot lmk if I should make a mini-series or something.. enjoy!

Camp Counselor Sam

Sam hated his job.

Or, at least that’s what he wanted everyone else to think. His mom had forced him to apply after finding 2 bongs and a concerning amount of pills under his bed and in his sock drawer. A summer would set him straight, teach him some responsibility, she figured.

“Hey,” Sam groaned to his campers, lying down on a bench. “No fighting.” He pulled his arms over his face, his dark sunglasses not even helping the hangover he was facing. The other counselors slipped out of the cabins late last night to “The Spot”, which was really just a gazebo tucked away in the woods a walk away. It was there they drank cheap beer around the fire, strumming songs on their guitars and complaining about the kids. You were there, too. And you couldn’t find an escape to Sam’s burning gaze through the fire, staring straight through your soul. It was a little creepy.

Sam was in charge of the Chippewa cabin, boys aged 7-9. Potty trained, sure; but loud, sticky, and stubborn. Two boys were wrestling around in the dirt before lunch, obviously stir crazy. Once Sam chided them, they both stood up, and one pushed the other as a last resort get-back.

“Seriously, Jacob. Enough. Ethan’ll have another asthma attack, and I’m not going through that paperwork again.” Sam groaned. “Why can’t you go play Gaga with the others? Always gotta stir up stuff.” Jacob, one of the older kids in the cabin, looked back at the Gaga pit. “I can’t.” He whispered. Sam sighed and sat up, throwing his arms up and landing them back on his knees with a Slap! “Why not?”

“Emma’s there.” Jacob pointed to a girl around his age, braids in her hair as she kicked a ball around, smiling.

“So?”

Silence was all Sam needed to understand.

“Oh! You like her, huh?”

“Shhh!” Jacob cringed.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? I’m great with girls.” He said quietly with a smirk.

“Like Counselor Y/N?”

“Shut up,” Sam looked away. “Go talk to her.”

“And say what?”

“I dunno. You like her shirt, or somethin’. Or- better option: show her your killer Gaga skills. That’ll impress her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. Go.” Sam swatted Jacob away with his hand, pushing towards the game, smiling as he laid back down for some peace and quiet. Finally.

“AHHHHH!” Sam sat up immediately when he heard an ear-piercing scream. Wincing at the volume. As he whipped his head around, he saw little Emma on the ground, clutching her face. Sobbing. He also saw Jacob with the purest look of terror in his eyes, and a ball right beside Emma.

“Oh my god! Emma! Are you okay?” You shout, looking up from your magazine. You run to her, kneeling down to her to assess the damage.

“I’m so sorry!” Jacob cried. “I- I didn’t mean to!”

Sam came over, grabbing Jacob by the shoulders.

“Way to fumble the bag, dude.” Sam whispered in his ear. He nodded to you and Emma. “Is she ok?”

Emma moved her hands from her face. Blood gushed from her nose.

“Fuck,” Sam mumbled under his breath.

You turned to Sam, not recognizing him until now because of the chaos. “Uh. Yeah. Just gotta go to the infirmary.” You turn back to Emma, one of your campers, with a face full of pity.

“Can you walk, bug?” Emma responded with loud, inconsolable wailing. You just nod, stand, and pull Emma up in your arms, her head dangling over your shoulder. Blood was getting all over your shirt.

Sam and his camper watched in horror as you walked Emma to the infirmary. Then, the lunch bell rang.

Emma was fine. Some Kleenex, ice, and a sucker was all she needed before you walked her to the dining hall with a smile on her face. But before she could run to her friends, you two were stopped. Sam and Jacob stood awkwardly, but Sam nudged Jacob and he spoke.

“E-Emma. I’m really sorry I kicked the ball in your face. I didn’t mean to. Sorry.” Jacob then handed her a handful of picked dandelions that he was hiding behind his back. “These are for you.”

Sam whispered something in Jacob’s ear.

“And I like your shirt.”

Emma smiled gently and took the yellow flowers. “Thanks.” She said shyly. “Do you wanna sit together?”

Jacob turned to Sam beaming with pride.

“Go get ‘em tiger.” He said with a push. With that, Emma and Jacob ran off to the other side of the dining hall.

You looked up at Sam, smiling confusedly.

“The apology was his idea,” he blurted. “I just thought the flowers might sweeten the deal.” Dandelions are actually weeds, you thought. You kept that to yourself.

“That was sweet, Sam. Thank you.” You smile.

He just nodded curtly and slipped away into the buzzing crowd of people.

What a mystery of a guy, you thought.

[swanlakex]

Currently cooking up the cutest idea that came to me like a prophecy. Stay tuned… 😊😝

[swanlakex]

hey lol its the anon who asked about the post schedule, i just wanna let you know i just read the new chapter at work again our schedules are so funny

It’s written in the stars! 💀💀

[swanlakex]

CW: War, death

Chapter four: la cerf

It was a day where the world rested under a blanket of pale, looming snow. Anakin and his father, bundled in fur, crunch through the snow’s frosted layer. At eight, Anakin was a gentle spirit. He was kinder; softer. Nice to even the serfs. This worried his father. He couldn’t have his son waver in any strength. Today was a special day. A day that would surely roughen him up.

They got to their destination in the wood. It was the early morning, the snow quieting each chitter and scratch of nature and its children.

“Right, now we wait, my boy.” His father’s voice broke through the air, handing Anakin a musket.

“Father, what if-“

“We must remain silent if we wish to catch one.”

“Must we?” Anakin whispers.

“It is the making of your manhood, hunting is. To hunt, to provide.. It’s no different than running a country, governing a war.” His father chuckles to himself. “Much less bloodshed.”

Anakin’s lips form a straight line as he lays in the snow beside his father, with the musket propped against the ground, waiting for a victim. They lay there in the pure snow for a while, a silent string lacing through their persons.

Suddenly, a doe slips out from a tree, sniffing the ground. Its ears twitch, she looks up, and turns to the boy and his father. Anakin shivers. He thinks of her beauty, how her life carried all up into this very moment. He thinks of the doe’s mother, of its first steps, of its warm belly on cold nights. How it survived many harsh winters, viscous thundering nights, just to get to this very moment. Prey and predator. Animal and Man.

Crack! Is the sound the gun makes as its bullet slices the air, tunneling itself into the deer’s neck. Red stains the white. The ground drinks up the animal’s warmth, reclaiming its lost child.

“Great shot, Anakin!” His father cries with glee. It is one of few times he sees him smile with proudness. He grabs Anakin’s shoulder and gives him a shake. Anakin bites the inside of his cheek and tries to share his father’s joy. He soaks up the feeling of his father encouragements. The feeling guts him again as he hears a small bleat.

The doe was a mother. Its baby was following just behind her, probably to make sure it was safe. The baby cries as it sniffs its mother’s lifeless body.

“Ach, happens to the best of us.” His father says.

Two years later, when he was ten, soldiers pulled Anakin’s mother’s body out of a frozen lake.

She was the only softness he had in his life. She denied a wet nurse, and spent his childhood raising him. As a royal, this was unheard of. Babies were shipped away and left to nurses to be brought on. His mother always refused. “Let me love my sons,” she would say. “Just too cute to leave be..” Pinching cheeks and ruffling hair. She had taught him the importance of being empathetic, educated. She had him and his brother paint and play piano.

His favorite thing? She would dance.

Everywhere. There was no stopping her. Twirling through the grand halls, leaping out in the garden. It was almost embarrassing, until she would drag you to join her. And she always did. “The world is spinning, we can’t just stand on it!” she used to say.

In Anakin’s world, when she died, the sun went with her too. There was nobody left to hold him as he cried, or kiss his knee when he scraped it. Nobody to paint pictures for, nobody to pluck berries from the garden. Nobody to dance with.

His father was broken. Or Anakin thought so, at least. Ever since her death he had thrown himself into the war. It was when she died that Anakin’s father brought him into politics, into war. His older brother, Alaric, was already his father’s right hand man. His confidence and wit shone through him, making him a perfect fit for battle. Anakin was more on the fence about it, not like he had a choice. War was a job for men, his father said. So, war is what Anakin did.

Started as a soldier, then lieutenant. Captain, major, colonel, then general commander after his father retired. It was as a lieutenant when he met his now vice general commander and best friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Together, they would chat about life back home and sneak out of the soldier’s quarters to dip in the pond and toss rocks. It was together they were punished for sneaking out, running laps until their legs gave out and assembling muskets until their hands were black with gunpowder.

“Surely, my fingerprints have worn away.” He said, and despite his exhaust, Anakin would laugh. He would laugh with Obi-Wan, and only Obi-Wan.

It was when Alaric died that the laughter stopped, too. 4 years ago. Shot in battle, bled out on the field. Anakin found him, too. When his front won, men were counting their losses, writing their names on a paper so they could inform their wives and their families. Anakin found his brother with his hand clutching a single flower that he had tucked under his coat. A lily, in a world of hate and violence. Their mother’s name. His brother, in his dying moments, was held by his mother one last time, until the end.

Of course, with such immeasurable losses, Anakin was hollow. He was cold to everyone. He only saw Obi-Wan (the only family he really had left) on the field now, or at meetings. He was emptied. A machine. He saw himself as such. No time for foolish things, there are men dying. He would tell himself.

But, some things never change. He still wanted to make his father proud. So when his father demanded him to court, he courted. When his father asked for a ball, a ball was in place the next evening. And when his father said he was to marry you, the Princess of France, and to cut back his presence on the battlefield, he did.

But he was not happy about it, and he planned on letting you know.

[swanlakex]

hi bestie i was just wondering what your post schedule for the regency!anakin fic is ?? i read all of it at work today and i'm obsessed

AHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT!! Yay for me distracting people at work 😝 Currently, there’s no decided schedule because I’m just writing when I have the time/inspiration. I will try to do at least one chapter a week!

Also, I should probably name it lol…

[swanlakex]

I read your stylist fic and eeee!! It's so freaking cute!!! I'm in love with that plot sm 🥺

OMGGG!! I love ur work sm and I’m a big fan so for you to say that means a lot!!

If I can think of stuff to build off of it maybe I can do some more ❤️❤️❤️

[swanlakex]

Short chapter today while I figure out what to do with this story.. let me cook.

Hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading

(Also yayyy French time)

Chapter 3: le condamné

Running your hands against the veil’s lacy fabric, you thought about the rest of your life. You thought of your legacy, what you strove toward all these years, your passions, your triumphs. You thought of your father. You thought of him on this day, consoling you, encouraging you.

Hell- he would probably have scared Skywalker into being nice to you at this point. But he was dead, not here. And there was nobody left to advocate for you. Except yourself.

Esme came into the room.

“Bonjour mon cher.” She was speaking French. She only does this when she feels pity towards you.

“La cérémonie commence dans l'heure. Puis-je t'aider à t'habiller?” You nod, allowing her to help you get dressed.

“Comment te sens-tu?” She asks how you are, and you only shake your head and slip out a “Bof..” You lie. You are full of dread. I am to spend the rest of my days haunting a castle of a man who despises marriage. You say in your head. How am I to be optimistic?

Esme finishes lacing up the wedding dress and pins in your veil. You step in front of the mirror. “Belle fille..” she whispers. She’s right, you really did look beautiful. Yet you only thought of everything ugly swarming beneath your clothes.

The wedding was professional, unfeeling, and distant. You didn’t kiss, just exchanged rings. The vows were Catholic prayers, pre-written thousands of years ago. It was everything you never expected, but what were you to expect, anyways?

There was a ball held after, and despite the urge to remain on the opposite side of the room from him, you were forced to sit idly beside him. Almost an hour of excruciating silence passes. You watch his demeanor, how he shifts in his seat. Nobody spoke to him, nobody congratulated him. It was like a business meeting.

Suddenly, a waltz begins. But not just any waltz, it was one you were familiar with. Hungarian Dance. You gasp, and immediately turn to your sister. She beams with a fond, distant memory. You both dash out of your seats, and to the floor.

Your mother made you and your sister take lessons as a child, and Hungarian was your favorite out of all of them. It was fast, lively, cheerful, and invigorating. Therese and you jumped, turned, and waltzed hand in hand (giggling like children the whole time, especially when you two would trip over your dress’ trail.)

Anakin observes from afar, unnoticed by you. He sees the blatant love you have on your face for your sister, for your childhood and its tender memories. He watches as you grab Louis from the crowd, forcing him to spin- even cracking him a smile.

Finally, the ballad ends. Anakin watches you and your siblings pant, trying to gulp down all of the air in the room. He stares as he sees your mother slice through the crowd, scolding the three of you for causing a scene. “How unbecoming!” She barks. “What would your father think, embarrassing our name in such a manner?!” He watches, and he almost smiles when she turns her back and you look to your siblings, hold them close, and belt out with laughter.

Almost.