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anakin-pilled · 1 year ago

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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part three)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 9.4k

warnings: no use of y/n, mentions of EDs, body dysmorphia/body issues, fainting, mistreatment, hospitalization, crying, reader being emotional, anakin being a reckless driver, half proofread bc i got lazy (will probably edit another day, its late af as im posting this)

rating: 18+

author's note: hi, i'm so sorry for the delay on chapter three! life got really busy and i found myself not having enough time to write, but now life has settled and i finally had enough time and inspo to finish this chapter. i literally forced myself to stay home this weekend and finish this chapter bc i'll be traveling this week and won't have time to write. i hope i made up for it by making this chapter longer than usual!! let me know if u have any questions or comments. reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

creds to saradika for the divider!

You originally had no plans this weekend, but after much persuasion from one of your closest friends, you decided to attend some party that a friend of a friend was hosting. It was better than being locked up in your apartment all weekend, letting the thoughts of Anakin consume your mind and slowly pick away at your sanity. After all, it gave you the chance to dress up prettily, consume free hooch, and maybe find someone to get under and help you get over Anakin.

The water in your porcelain sonic tub was doused in a fragrant Crimson Jelly Spire oil and mixed with the fragile petals of a Jasmine flower. The combination of spice and sweetness left your skin refreshed and smelling good. The midday light of Corscant filtered through the windows and cast the nearly all-ivory refresher in an ethereal lighting. The water swished around you as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid the side of your cheek on top of them. You trained your eyes on the refresher’s ceilings before blowing a loose piece of hair out of your face. You ran this bath about an hour ago, but you had yet to get up because your mind was occupied by him. Staying away from Anakin was harder than you anticipated. Your mind recalled, for about the hundredth time today, two instances that happened over the last few rotations.

The first instance with Anakin left you unnerved and unconfident in your self-proclamation to stay away from him.

The benefit concert was only a few rotations away now, so you started practicing. Even though you were only performing songs that you already performed and rehearsed before, it still didn’t hurt to practice even more. This was going to be broadcast across the Republic, so you had to be perfect.

You holed yourself up in your practice room for the majority of the day. The only time you saw Anakin was in the morning when your protocol droid prepared breakfast. You told Anakin that you would be practicing with your team of dancers for the day, so there was no need for him to stay with you all day. You encouraged him to take the day off and reassured him that your practice suite was located in a safe building with 24/7 security watch. Anakin insisted that he at least drop you off. He could take the time to stop by the Temple and check in on Ahsoka’s training.

That was hours ago. It was nearing your twelfth hour of continuous practice and you were exhausted, to say the least. Your vocal cords felt raw from the amount of singing you did today, and the legs in your muscles were spasming from the constant repetition of your dancing. You dismissed your team members around two hours ago, you didn’t think they should be subjected to your perfectionist tendencies. One of them, a Pantoran girl named Chione, voiced her concern for you. Chione was one of your oldest dancers, she joined your team during your first mini-tour around a few Core planets and has never left your team since. You considered her one of your closest friends.

“Are you positive that you’re okay to practice on your own? You’ve barely had any food today. I don’t want you fainting with no one to help,” voiced Chione in a dulcet tone. She was always looking out for your well-being, especially because she knew how hard you could be on yourself. Chione was a source of bright life in your life and one of the most genuine people you’ve ever known.

“I’ll be fine, Chione. I had a heavy breakfast, and I’ve made sure to eat energy pudding bars and stay hydrated during our breaks,” you reassured your friend. She looked unconvinced, but you rushed her out of the room with a kiss on her cheek and a promise to send her a message once you arrived home.

Now that you had the studio to yourself, you decided to go through a few more drills and focus on the routines that you struggled with the most. You weren’t always a perfectionist. Back when you lived on Bar’leth, you were neither the smartest student in your grade nor the dumbest student–you were perfectly average. You didn’t feel the need to engage in your classmates’ cutthroat competition or push yourself more than you required. Even when it came to your musical prowess, you sang and studied instruments because you enjoyed it and it brought you happiness. If you were stuck on learning a certain composition or hitting the right note, you would always put in your best effort, but you never lost any sleep over it. You knew that if you were to put pressure on yourself, it would take the enjoyment away. Music was yours, without any strings, expectations, or attachments to soil your relationship with it.

That swiftly changed once you were signed a record deal with one of Coruscant’s most famous record labels, Interstellar Records. You didn’t even know it was possible to become famous at the intergalactic level. Most of the artists you listened to on Bar’leth were artists from your planet. The galaxy’s population is enormous–Coruscant alone has around three trillion people! You never imagined that your name would known anywhere besides Bar’leth. Yet, luck seemed to be on your side on that one fateful day.

The story of how you were discovered is quite simple. Your school hosted an annual festival for the anniversary of the formation of Bar’leth’s government. It’s a joyous holiday where students are encouraged to promote Bar’leth’s culture through food, traditional customs, and performances. Families and regular citizens flock to the school to join and watch the students at the festival. It’s a day you look forward to every year. Each class section is assigned to a particular event. The graduating class of that year is always assigned to open the festival with a choir rendition of Bar’leth’s national anthem. You were asked to lead the choir since the music instructor knew of your talent, which meant that you would be the main singer. Little did you know that one of the executives from Interstellar Records was at the school festival. One of his nephews attended your school, so that was his reason for being there. As soon as you got off the stage and the festivities started, you were immediately pulled to the side by your school’s headmaster who introduced you to the executive. He spoke to you about your talent, and how he believed that you could make something of yourself with proper training and a recording label to manage you.

That was five years ago, and a lot has changed since then. After finishing your last year of government-mandated education, you moved to Coruscant and began your career as a professional artist. Life suddenly flipped. Your upbringing on Bar’leth was humble. You came from a decent, middle-class family and lived in a standard home. Suddenly, you lived in a fancy Coruscant apartment with the former senator Sheev Palpatine, and you were always surrounded by a team of managers who dictated your schedule from morning to night. You were given vocal training, attended dance classes, and sat through etiquette and media training courses all while trying to produce your debut record. The first year of your career was marked by sleepless nights due to the sheer amount of activities on your daily agenda. Many times throughout the first year, you debated if this was a smart decision.

You continuously pushed yourself through it because dreams weren’t achieved by themselves. You had to work to make your dreams come true. This was just part of the process. At least that’s what you said to reason with your inner self to avoid any feelings of regret and anxiety. Yet, throughout that first year, you were also exposed to a darker side of the industry that you weren’t equipped to handle as a barely legal adult. When you signed that contract with the label, you also signed away any right to individuality and personal autonomy.

You had a certain image to uphold as a public figure and this image was controlled entirely by your label. You were like clay that they could bend at their will–constantly being prodded and

molded until you were nothing short of perfection. Your clothes were preselected each day, hair was only done in styles the label wanted, and pre-answered scripts were given for interviews. Worst of all, even your diet was dictated by the label. How much you ate, what you ate, and even when you ate was all at the discretion of the executives. They even went so far as to weigh you weekly to make sure you were staying on top of your weight. If you weren’t at their goal weight, they subjected you to intense periods of exercise. It was an abusive cycle that fundamentally altered your self-esteem. Slowly, you became a shell of the person you once were. You didn’t find enjoyment in your career anymore, something you were once so passionate and excited about. The harsh regime of your management extinguished that flame. All that mattered to you was if you were meeting your label’s expectations. You were consumed by the weight of their expectations. You drowned under their judgment, and each criticism was like a blaster shot straight to your heart. The executives weren’t satisfied no matter what you did. Practice hours went from a few hours of your day to half of your day. You slowly cut contact with your friends from home and lied to your family when they asked how you were doing. You couldn’t bear to tell them the truth. You were miserable.

Eventually, the constant overwork and abuse by the label became too much for your body to handle and one day you fainted in the middle of practice. The medic at the medcenter informed you that your body shut due to exhaustion and malnutrition. Due to you being one year away from being a legal adult by the Republic’s standards, the medic was forced to report this incident to the authorities. Holonet tabloids somehow got a hold of this information and leaked it on their celebrity gossip pages. This prompted an investigation from the Intergalactic Federation of Musicians, the trade guild dedicated to musicians, performers, and songwriters, who determined that your label was not properly upholding their side of the contract. The IFM fined Interstellar Records and voided your contract, which left you free and away from their abuse.

It took you a few months to recover from the whole incident. The best course of action was to move back to Bar’leth while you healed. Your career didn’t stop there, however. Right before the situation, your debut album was released. Hence, you were practicing for upcoming promotions the label scheduled you for. The release of your debut album was quiet–until your face ended up on the Holonet’s hot spot after the initial news broke. The people of Coruscant, and even some people from neighboring planets, pitied you. You never intended for anything to be this way, but the story that the tabloids ran against you worked in your favor. You, a young fresh-faced, and doe-eyed girl from a smaller Core planet, were a victim of the cruel entertainment industry. Everyone blamed the label, rightfully so, but the amount of support and influx of love from Coruscant’s citizens catapulted you into fame and stardom. The public wanted to see you win (until they didn’t). Other recording labels were knocking at your door, trying to get you to sign with their company You were hesitant, not wanting to experience the same trauma. Senator Palpatine offered his help in negotiating the contract bids as an apology for not noticing what you were going through before. After all, you were still living with him while you were still signed to Interstellar. You didn’t blame him as you hid your problems well. Regardless, it all worked out in the end as you were signed to a new label, under terms and conditions you saw fit. Four years have passed since you signed onto Nebula Music Group. Your fame instantaneously increased after signing with them. Gido was assigned your new manager, and you were extremely thankful for him because he played a major role in ensuring you were properly treated and supported by the label. Nebula Music Group had more trust and faith in you than Interstellar, so they allowed you more authority and creative liberties in the music-making process. Because of this, you could produce authentic, critically acclaimed, popular albums. Your last album, Last Words of a Shooting Star, broke a record with the highest sales of sound slugs in history for a female artist. You did mini tours around the inner and mid-Core planets. Despite your initial hardships, life was turning out better than you envisioned. You had a second chance at your dream. You liked to consider yourself fully healed from the situation, but that was far from the truth.

Take now for example.

In moments like this, when it’s only yourself and the mirror, your mind can’t help but flashback to the horrible treatment you suffered at the hands of those people. You know that no matter how much therapy or how far removed from the situation you were, a part of you was still stuck in the past.

Chione was right to be concerned. This wasn’t the first time you stayed behind and continued practicing on your own, often to the point of exhaustion and breaking down. She’s caught you in these moments before, where you were so focused on perfection that you failed to take care of yourself properly—staying dehydrated, skipping meals, and not sleeping just so you could devote more time to practice. You would gladly damage yourself for it. You couldn’t help it. Insecurity was embedded in your bones. You knew that as a young female in the industry, you had a short shelf life (or at least that’s what your previous label hammered into your brain). Once the industry deemed you expired, you would be nothing. Thus, you needed to be so perfect, that even past your expiration date, people would still want you. You were nothing without desirability.

You looked at yourself with hard eyes in the mirror. Your eyes landed on the deep, heavy-set eye bags under your eyes. A scowl appeared on your face. You then moved your eyes to your arms, which never seemed skinny enough for you. A knot formed in your throat. Lastly, you laid your eyes upon your stomach. No matter how many meals you skipped, what diet fads you went on, or what food you prematurely threw away to avoid finishing, your stomach never looked the way you wanted. A sigh escaped your throat.

It was futile to worry about these things now. At a time so late in the day, nothing good would come of it. You inhaled and exhaled breathing as if you were absorbing and releasing all of your previous negative energy. Putting on a fake smile that didn’t reach your eyes, you gave yourself one last look before continuing to practice.

The song you were currently dancing to belonged to the glimmick genre–a genre of music that was associated with frenzied sounds and rapid beats. As an artist, you were most comfortable with the sparkle-bop and pop genres. That was your domain, and it was the genre that made you famous. However, you wanted you wanted to experiment on your recent album to get out of your artistic comfort zone and reach a wider audience, so you included songs of different genres, with glimmick being one of them. Due to the nature of the glimmick genre, your song “Atom of the Pneuma,” required an intricate, fast-paced dance with movements that you were not familiar with. The choreography for this dance was sharp and pristine, contorting and bending your body to resemble straight, angular lines. Most of your choreography featured lighter dance moves, with flowy movement and softer forms. It was the reason you stayed later than the rest of your team–you wanted to hone on this particular routine before the benefit concert.

Your legs were bent, hands placed on top of your thighs as you caught your breath and prepared to replay the song just a few more times before calling ending the day. You got into position. The song started and filled the room with a pounding, rich techno bass that bounced off the walls. You began to move your body to the beat while your right arm was simultaneously moving it to create a pattern that extended from your body outward. Your head followed the beat as well, which left you slightly dizzy. You learned to block out any negative sensations when dancing, a practice you learned from the days when you danced on little sleep and little food. The unpleasant sensation went ignored until you spun your body around and lost your balance resulting in an unceremonious fall toward the hard wooden floor. You placed your arms to cushion your fall out of reflex, but the fall never came. A pair of large, calloused hands were placed on your waist, holding you steady. The hands gently guided you toward the floor, forcing you to sit.

You raised your face toward the ceiling, trying to see who it was that miraculously saved you from your fall. The bright lights of the practice room invaded your eyesight and you could only make out the fuzzy outline of the person. Tiny, black dots swirled your vision as you tried to regain your composure. The feeling was overwhelming. You could feel your breath quicken as you tried to calm yourself. This wasn’t the first time you have fainted from overdoing it, but it was never any easier each time. You hated the feeling, you hated the coldness that washed over your body, you hated how your vision failed you, and you hated the dull panging inside your head.

You shut your eyes, barely focusing on the person next to you. Your nails dug into your palm, the pain distracting you from the uncomfortable feeling and forcing you back into the present. After a few more moments, you opened your eyes again and turned your vision to the only other figure in the room. You could feel the warmth of their body next to yours–the warmth overpowering the previous coldness your body felt.

“Anakin,” you whispered.

“You okay there, pop star?” Anakin softly replied. “You almost took a nasty fall, you could have sprained your wrist or hurt your head. We wouldn’t want that before the big day, now would we?”

His brown curls gently caressed his face as he looked down at you. He was kneeling over you, eyes scanning over your body to make sure you were okay. You didn’t even hear him enter. How did he get inside? Access to this room was only allowed by people with logged fingerprints and/or other DNA indicators.

“Just give me a minute please.” You still felt lightheaded.

Anakin stood up and walked toward your practice bag and grabbed the container of water that was sitting next to it. He then proceeded toward you, sat next to you, and put the tip of the container to your lips. You titled your head back as you drank. After a couple of gulps, you answered Anakin’s question.

“I apologize if I frightened you. I must have overdone it and got lightheaded because of it. I assure you that I feel better now and can continue my practice,” You tried to stand up before Anakin’s hand caught your wrist and dragged you back toward the ground. Your response was cold and robotic. That’s because you were in a different mode right now, your more “professional” mode which consisted of one thing only–to never give up until you were blue in the fact. It was ingrained in you from your past training that even if you felt like complete bantha shit, you couldn’t stop practicing just because you felt slightly off. Perfection could never be achieved if you stopped every single time you felt bad.

“Just take a moment to relax. You nearly fainted. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you continue to practice in this state,” Anakin reasoned. He pitied you because he knew the exact look of determination on your face.

“I can’t stop. The benefit is only a few rotations from now. I have to get this routine down, or else I’ll look like a fool on stage,” you argued back. You turned, but Anakin kept a firm hold on your wrist.

“Stop being stubborn and just take a quick break.” The seriousness in Anakin’s tone made you want to cry. His voice projected across the now silent practice room. You were already feeling bad from almost fainting and now you were being emotional too. You slipped to the ground and hung your head low as tears welled up in your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice wavered. Putting in this state always puts you in a weird headspace. You swallowed the tight knot that formed in your throat. You didn’t want to cry in front of Anakin.

Anakin noticed the waver of your voice and how you refused to meet his eyes. He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so harsh, but he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either.

“It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean for my voice to sound that way,” Anakin hesitated before putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort. He felt slightly awkward. He didn’t know you very well yet, so he didn’t want to invade your personal space, but he recognized that you needed some comfort.

“You should leave. You don’t have to deal with me. I know the Chancellor asked you to watch over me, but this is too much. I promise I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened.” You don’t know why you let that small detail split to Anakin. Perhaps you just wanted someone else to know that you weren’t fully healed from your past. You tried to do your best to hide it from the rest of your team, only Chione being the most knowledgeable on the subject.

“I’m not going to leave you. It’s late and you should be heading back to your apartment. I came to pick you up. Gido said you hadn’t arrived home yet and that I could find you here.”

You sighed at Anakin’s response. There were a few moments of silence before you began speaking again. “I’m sorry. You’re just being a decent person, and I’m here trying to push you away. I don’t mean it.” You took a deep breath, “I just get in a weird headspace whenever I’m practicing sometimes.”

Anakin didn’t want to pry, but he could tell there was a deeper meaning behind your words.

You started speaking before your brain could even comprehend what you were saying. You were desperate to let out all of your negative feelings. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough sometimes? Like the whole world is waiting for you to trip and fall?” You glanced at Anakin with glassy eyes.

You continued to tirade. “I know my life may look glamorous, and it is. But no one ever talks about the dark side of being in the public eye, especially as a female. They treat you as if you’re some spectacle for their entertainment as if you’re not a living being with consciousness and feelings. Even those who are supposed to be there for you end up on the same side as the critics and haters.” Your chest was now heaving up and down as a result of your heightened emotion. “Even when I work my ass off to be perfect, so I can meet their standards and so they can finally shut the kriff up, they find another thing to comment on just to tear me down.”

“Yes, I understand the feeling.” And Anakin truly did understand. Anakin wanted to comfort you, he felt empathetic as he watched you cry. Do you remember how I told you how I joined the Jedi at a later age than most?” You nodded as you sniffled. “The Jedi council didn’t want to take me in at first…but Qui-Gon convinced them to take me in because he saw potential in me, potential as the Chosen one. Master Qui-Gon died before he had the chance to train me, so his Padawan, my former master, requested that he take me up as his Padawan. No Padawan had ever been trained at such a young age, but the council accepted his wish as a dying request from Qui-Gon.” Anakin still recalls that day–he was waiting outside the council’s room–in wonder at the grand pillars of the Jedi Temple. It was so grandiose and had a sense of holiness, two things he never witnessed on Tatooine.

“I had to work twice as hard as the other younglings to get up to speed. Most of them already had years of experience with the Jedi, they knew how to properly wield the force and the Jedi scriptures were ingrained into their beings by that point. Eventually, I surpassed the younglings and surpassed the expectations of the council. But even then, the council has never fully trusted me. I feel they’re always scrutinizing me, watching for my next mistake too. I’m not the most conventional Jedi, and I don’t always play by the books, but I’m a Jedi through and thorough. No matter how many times I prove that the council, or even my former master, they don’t believe in me. We’ve been fighting this war for Maker knows how long, and they still refuse to make me master, despite being the poster boy for this war.”

“Wow, Anakin…I didn’t expect that from you.” You honestly didn’t expect to find yourself relating to Anakin, you were on completely different sides of society. How could you, a pop star, relate to a Jedi? It comforted you in a way, to know that you weren’t the only person to go through feelings of inadequacy and frustration. “How do you deal with it?”

“When I was a Padawan in training, I didn’t deal with it most healthily. I was snarky (he still is), and rebelled against my master’s teachings. I was stubborn, hoping that if I showed off my power, I could finally be appreciated by the council. I was wrong to do that, it’s how I lost my right arm.” Anakin then slipped off his glove to show you the silver mechanical prosthetic. You gasped, not expecting to learn this information. Anakin continued, “I still like to show off, but as I matured, I realized that I didn’t have to define myself by the approval of others. I know that I am capable, and I will keep working hard until the council recognizes that.”

“You don’t deserve that. I know we only just met, but I’ve only heard remarkable things about you. The Republic wouldn’t stand a chance against the Separatists against you. I mean no offense to the other Jedi, they’re all vital to the war effort too, but we need someone who takes risks and isn’t afraid to be unorthodox. I don’t know much about the Jedi, but I know one day you’ll make a great Master.”

This heart-to-heart chat with Anakin was unexpected but welcomed. You appreciated that he was honest and open with you–someone who was practically a stranger still. He didn’t have to come all this way to pick you up nor did Anakin need to comfort you in an hour of need, but he did. However, Anakin didn’t let the conversation marinate too long, suddenly embarrassed at the information he shared with you.

Anakin stood up from the ground and reached his hand toward you. You accepted his hand and Anakin pulled you up as well. “Are you feeling better now?”

Despite the dried tear marks on your face and the incoming headache you were about to face, you told Anakin that you did feel better. You weren’t ready to divulge your entire past with Anakin just yet, but maybe one day the two of you could become friends. Did that count as an attachment? You weren’t sure.

“Let’s get you home, pop star.”

“Thanks, General.”

The second instance with Anakin was in an unconventional situation, but it brought a smile to your face when you recalled it. It was only the fifth day of him being assigned as your bodyguard. The incident at the practice room happened on his third day there. You wanted to speak to him more after that night, but you found yourself pulled in all directions by your management team. You supposed you should be thankful–you promised to stay away from Anakin. The only issue is that you didn’t want to stay away from him anymore.

Anakin walked into your living room after talking with Obi-Wan through his commlink. Obi-Wan was updating Anakin on his most recent diplomatic mission on a nearby planet. A heated conversation was taking place between you and Gido.

“You’re being ridiculous! It’s not even that scary and you can’t keep on relying on others to transport you places,” Gido said as he pinched his nose with a hand, a look of frustration on his face.

“Of course I can! I’m rich. I can just hire chauffeurs!” you taunted in reply. You knew your argument wasn’t sound, but you just wanted to vex Gido at this point. Deep down, you knew your manager was right.

“What about when you’re old and retired? Who’s going to help you then? Certainly not I. I’ll be dead!” He pointed an accusatory finger at you.

A glare embraced your face at Gido’s words. You scoffed before turning your body, not realizing that Anakin entered the room. He had to stop sneaking in like that. Those damn Jedi.

Anakin looked at you two with a curious look. Having joined the conversation toward its end, Anakin did not know what you two were talking about. Heat ran up your neck and toward your face as Gido explained with a deadpan expression.

“My dear friend here does not have her Republic driving license, despite being an adult. I’ve been telling her to get her license for years, but she always manages to procrastinate. And every time I tell her, she brushes me off her shoulder.” He pointed at you with an accusing thumb.

With a high-pitched tone, you defended yourself, “I know how to drive!... Sort of. Look, I just don’t like driving. The skylanes are always chaotic and the last time I visited the Ministry of Transport, it took me hours to update my identification and the workers were extremely rude. I’m not going back there if I don’t have to!”

“And I keep telling her, she needs to get her license. Kid, don’t be stubborn. Wouldn’t you feel more independent if you could drive around yourself?”

“Oh, stop bullshitting me, Gido. You just don’t want to drive me around because you hate the sky lanes as much as I do!” It was true. Gido groaned and mumbled every time he had to drive you places, complaining that he wouldn’t need to take you to run your errands if you had your own license. You couldn’t help it–you enjoyed dragging Gido along and you knew he secretly enjoyed spending time with you.

Anakin had a solution to both of your problems. Driving was one of his fortes. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka would disagree, but Anakin knew he was the best pilot in the galaxy. Yes, Anakin could be reckless, but there was never a landing or move he couldn’t pull off. The innate talent he had as a young boy flourished when he moved to Coruscant and began his Padawan training. Having access to much more refined and newer technology allowed Anakin to perfect the craft of piloting.

“I can teach you how to drive. I’m the best pilot in the galaxy.” The seriousness on Anakin’s face indicated that he wasn’t joking.

You gulped. The heating sensation returned. You began to shake your head from side to side with wide eyes. Your hands moved in front of you as if to mimic the movement of your head, waving off Anakin’s solution.

“I don’t think that necessary,” you protested.

“Actually, I think it’s very necessary. Only the Maker knows how long you’ll push this off. Anakin, would you mind doing this favor? I have a few meetings with the company, we need to finalize the last details for the benefit. Feel free to use her airspeeder parked outside–it’s one of the newest models,” Gido stated.

Anakin grinned. He really did miss his yellow Eta-2 Starfighter, but he would never deny the chance to operate new technology.

That’s how you found yourself outside sitting in a neatly parked J12 Twin-pod on your apartment’s landing platform. The airspeeder belonged to you, though you’d never driven it before. The airspeeder was one of the newer models on the market. The surface was wrapped with a special pink-tinted chrome wrap making the car look sleek and expensive. Gido, your chauffeur, and occasionally Chione, were the only people to ever drive it.

You looked out the window and saw Anakin approaching the passenger side of the airspeeder. “Karking hell, I’m really doing this,” you thought. You detested driving. It made your palms sweaty and shot your nervous system. To make matters worse, you would be stuck in the confined airspeeder with Anakin! So much for trying to keep your proximity from him. You were both scared and embarrassed. Here was Anakin, the most famous Jedi at the moment, teaching pathetic you how to properly drive. Surely he had much better, more important things to do–like lead a war planning meeting or something.

The passenger door opened, and Anakin effortlessly climbed into the passenger seat and sat down. Your back stiffened, and suddenly the airspeeder seemed tighter. You shot an uneasy glance toward Anakin, who only smiled in excitement.

After the other night in the dance room where you had that conversation with Anakin, you felt less apprehensive around him. He was more human to you and less of a mysterious figure, less of a pretty face who made you nervous. You still found yourself mousy and internally reeling in his presence, but Anakin was becoming akin to a friend. You started conversing more during mealtimes, slowly getting to know each other.

“Alright, pop star, first we’re going to start with the controls. You have to fire up the engine by flipping this red switch. After the flip is switched, check your mirrors to ensure you can view directly behind and on your sides. Be careful with your blind spots. You don’t want to get rear-ended because you forgot to check for it. Coruscant sky lanes are no joke. With an airspeeder as pretty as yours, I’d hate to see it get destroyed. ” Anakin pointed toward a red button near the right side of the console, located next to the steering gear. “You got that?” Anakin questioned with one eyebrow raised.

Once again, Anakin felt your energy through the force. It was way calmer compared to the first day, but he could still feel your energy buzzing. Perhaps you realized that his presence was nothing to fear.

“Go on. Turn it on,” Anakin commanded. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when you heard the baritone voice command you. It reverberated several times in your head. Anakin’s voice was manly, and extremely attractive. You felt jealous that his soldiers got to hear that voice every day.

You reached toward the switch and flipped it upward with a shaky hand. The airspeeder lit up from inside, indicating it had come to life. There wasn’t an initial turbo–this was one of the main features of this model. It was supposed to fly seamlessly through the air. You placed your hands on each side of the steering gears. Not knowing what to do next, you looked at Anakin for guidance.

Anakin stood up to stand directly behind you. He reached out his arms and placed his hands on top of yours. He then leaned down to the side of your face and explained, “I’m going to show you how you properly place your hands on the steering gear and how to move it while you’re driving.” Anakin moved your hands toward the middle of the gear.

“Have a tight grip on the gear. The tighter the grip, the more control you have over the speeder. The higher sky lanes get more wind traction, so it’s especially important to have control in those lanes.” You nodded to show you were following. Anakin suddenly turned the gear harshly to the left, “Don’t do what I just did. When you turn the gear harshly, you jerk the speeder. If you’re switching lanes or turning a corner, switch on your indicators so other drivers know which way you’re going.” Of course, Anakin never followed his own advice, but for your sake, he played it by the books.

It all felt too intimate. Your head was in a rush, which probably wasn’t the best state to be in while you were about to drive. Anakin’s hands engulfed yours. The difference between his callused hands and your perfectly manicured hands drove you crazy. You could see the veins exposed on his ungloved hand. The sight of the green veins made your stomach turn warm. Much like his face, Anakin’s hand was sculpted by the Maker themself. Not even the finest marble statues could compare to the piece of art that was Anakin Skywalker.

“...Lastly, when you’re making a turn, do not turn the gear all the way around. The speeder has a built-in function that automatically rotates it. If you turn it all the way, you’ll make a sharp turn, ruining the internal tachyon drive regulator. Do you think you can handle this? Gido told me about the last time you tried to drive.” The last time you tried to drive, it resulted in several fines and almost caused a crash–the tabloids were on your ass for weeks after that.

You completely spaced out while Anakin was speaking, too focused on your inner thoughts. Hearing the teasing tone of his voice brought you back. You hated being undermined. You would prove to Anakin, and Gido, that you can drive perfectly fine and that you have nothing to be scared of.

“I can you assure that not only can I handle this, but you’ll be amazed at how quickly I learn,” you sassed Anakin back. You were lying. You couldn’t handle this, yet you couldn’t look like a ditz in front of Anakin.

“Let’s start flying. Don’t be nervous. I’m right here if you need me.”

Anakin sat back in his seat and observed you as you started maneuvering the aircraft. He directed you toward a sky lane to merge into. “I’m going to guide you to a specific path where the air traffic isn’t so busy. It should be easier for you to fly since there isn’t as much chaos.”

You kept a strong grip on the steering gear. Coruscant Prime, Coruscant’s only sun, was shining bright. The Weather Control Network did a splendid job at keeping Coruscant’s weather optical today–it wasn’t too windy and the sky was clear. You took it as a positive sign.

The airspeeder flew steadily through the air. Anakin was surprised. The way Gido described your driving, he assumed that he would need to take control of the speeder earlier. You weren’t doing a terrible job so far. Aside from the occasional jerk or harsh turn, you managed not to crash so far.

Maybe Anakin thought too soon. “Watch out! Watch out to your right!,” Anakin exclaimed. You tried switching lanes, but the speeder behind you wasn’t slowing down to let you in. You narrowly avoided an accident at the last second by going back into your lane.

“Oops–I didn’t mean that,” you said with a giggle and a shrug of your shoulders. “How am I doing so far?”

“You’re not doing too bad, with some more practice, you should be able to get your license in no time. Why do you hate driving so much?”

While still focusing on the sky in front of you, you explained to Anakin, “I love Coruscant and all that it has to offer. But the sky lanes in Bar’leth are much calmer and less congested. I grew up used to that. Even after all these years of living here, I still can’t stomach the driving here. It’s horrendous! I much prefer to have someone else drive, that way the pressure won’t be on me. I know Gido’s right, I need my license, but can you blame me? We’ve already witnessed almost two accidents! How did you get so good at flying?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a pilot since I was a little boy. I used to tinker in the garage, building and modifying parts for my own podracer. I even won the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine,” answered Anakin.

“Why did you want to become a pilot?” you wondered. Anakin seemed like like an intentional type of person–his actions, thoughts, and opinions were direct reflections of him and what he felt inside.

Not many people outside of the Jedi temple knew Anakin’s true origins–that he was a former slave. The first ten years of his life were filtered solely through this lens, it came to impact much of his opinions on life, politics, and society. He didn’t like speaking about it and avoided the topic as much as he could. Anakin hated his life as a slave and he hated slavery with every fibre of his being. However, Anakin especially hated speaking about this past life now because every time he did, he was reminded of how he willingly chose to leave his mother on Tatooine. Anakin felt like he was the reason she died. He wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to save her from the Tuskens, but maybe, just maybe, if he stayed with his mother instead of leaving with Qui-Gon, Shmi Skywalker’s death could have been avoided.

Anakin didn’t respond to your question. When you looked at him, his face was scrunched up in a deep thought.

You were about to say something else when you saw something approaching the speeder from the corner of your eye. You quickly glanced to your left, only to spot a human male nearly hanging off the side of his airspeeder with a cam held up to his eye. You groaned out loud which caught Anakin’s attention. They came at the worst time possible. You were trying to learn how to drive for Kriff’s sake!

“The paparazzi are following! Can’t they just leave me alone” you ranted. You needed them to get off your trail, fast. You had a complex relationship with the paparazzi. You hated the way they invaded your privacy and fed the Holonet tabloids with material to gossip about. For every bad picture, outrageous rumor, and leaked news, there was a paparazzi behind it. They caused you so much pain. At the same time, the very nature of your career relied on the paparazzi to dispel news and reveal your current state of affairs through pictures. They were unofficial members of your public relations team. Every celebrity knew that they needed the paparazzi as much as they hated them. You couldn’t imagine what ridiculous headline they would come up with now.

The man got closer and closer to your speeder as he tried to record you on his cam. He was mere inches away from crashing into the side of your speeder. You started to panic and your hands lost your tight grip as you started to tremble. Even the slightest movement to the left would cause a crash, potentially sending both of your speeders tumbling below.

“Anakin, what do I do? I don’t know what to do! They’re too close,” you yelped. Any closer and the paparazzi’s camera would touch your speeder’s window.

“Stay calm, pop star. I got this.” Anakin��s tone was cocky. He had something up his sleeve. This wasn’t his first high-speed chase, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. Anakin switched into General mode. His hands swiftly moved across the dashboard as he pressed a multitude of buttons and flipped several switches.

“What are you doing?!” You hated how high-pitched your voice sounded, the fear slipping out of your voice a squeak.

“Relax. I’m just taking control of the speeder. This speeder model is programmed so that in case of emergencies, the co-passager can take control of the speeder and drive it.” A panel opened on the console and an additional steering gear emerged into view. Anakin gripped the gear and turned it to the right. The speeder lurched to the right, putting more distance between you and the paparazzi.

No longer needed to grip the gear, you turned toward Anakin and shielded yourself by facing your back toward the window. The Holo Net wouldn’t be getting anything out of you today. Those insatiable nerfhurders had no boundaries sometimes.

“You better hold on tight. Things are about to get bumpy.” The only way to get these paparazzi off your trail was by speeding up and losing them in the endless zigzags of Coruscant. Anakin wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety. He felt his fingertips buzzing with anticipation–the past few rotations with you have been enjoyable and peaceful, but he needed an outlet for his energy. Ever since the Clone Wars started, Anakin was constantly on the go, so his body and mind were accustomed to this. Fortunately for Anakin, flying was the best outlet for him.

“What do you mean? Anakin, I’m begging you. Please don’t do anything crazy. I get motion sick-” Your words were cut off as the speeder accelerated. “ANAKIN!!!,” you screamed. You then quickly shut your eyes again. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene in front of you. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell Anakin was driving significantly faster than what was allowed by the law.

The speeder weaved in and out of lanes. At one point, Anakin squeezed in between two speeders before hitting the turbo boosters. The paparazzi were still hot on your trail, but at least they were no longer directly next to you. You finally opened your eyes and saw that you were nearing the retail district, CoCo Town. Suddenly, the speeder nosedived toward the ground and you tightly clung to the gear in front of you for stability. The paparazzi were still chasing you, their speeder also diving below.

“Anakin do you have to be so reckless?!,” you shouted as Anakin laughed.

“My apologies–it was either that or let the paparazzi stalk you. Which one did you prefer? I didn’t have time to ask while you were panicking,” he replied in a sarcastic tone. You were about to rebuttal, but Anakin continued talking. “As soon as I land this on the ground, we’re going to get out and run. Let’s try to lose them in the crowd.”

The speeder lowered onto the ground and Anakin quickly parked the vehicle on a landing platform where several other speeders were parked. The doors unlocked and you both quickly stepped out. Before you could even completely step off, Anakin grabbed you by your waist and lowered you onto the ground. He then grabbed your hand and started running in the opposite direction of the speeder. You looked behind you, only to see the paparazzi had caught up and were now looking for you. After a quick scan, one of their eyes caught yours and they looked toward each other before running in the same direction as you and Anakin.

You could barely think about the paparazzi chasing you down as your mind relished the feeling of Anakin’s hands engulfing your waist. Anakin was a statuesque man, it made sense that his hands would be the same. Your skin burned at the touch. You shook your head to wane off the thoughts and redirect your focus in front of you.

Anakin’s back was facing you, his wide shoulders moving up and down as you ran through the crowds together. His curls bounced with each step. You apologized to each person you bumped into, slightly embarrassed to be in a situation like this. Why did this have to happen to you? Couldn’t they have picked another celebrity to torment today? You heard from the jogan fruit vine that the Holodrama actress Alexis Cov-Prim was getting out of rehab today. Wouldn’t that be a juicer headline than you learning how to drive? You already had one bad story from driving, you didn’t need another.

Anakin made a sharp turn around and corner and dragged you into a store named “Madame Acantha’s Emporium.” You kept your head low as Anakin greeted the storekeeper. You didn’t want to risk being recognized again. As you looked around and observed the store, you noticed the store sold a variety of womenswear from dresses to accessories. Anakin scanned the store for any suspicious figures before turning towards you.

“Grab something to disguise yourself with. We can’t stay in here forever.” You started browsing through the racks of clothes, pulling out a large knitted sweater before walking over to the accessory area and picking out a pair of daytime spectacles and a vibrant magenta wig with a bob cut. Anakin couldn’t disguise himself as he was too big for the clothing sold here. That didn’t matter as long as you could disguise yourself.

You quickly walked over to the changing rooms before switching out your outer layer for the sweater. After putting on the sweater, you grabbed the only elastic on your wrist and tied your hair so the wig could fit on. Once the wig was secured on your head, you put on the daytime spectacles and walked out of the changing rooms. You rushed towards the cashier and quickly asked her to ring up the transaction before throwing your credit chip on the counter. The employee, a humanoid woman of a species you couldn’t name, quickly rang up the transaction before handing you a receipt and bidding you a good day.

You turned towards Anakin and asked, “Does this look alright? Do I look like myself?”

Anakin stepped closer to you and grabbed the sides of your face. He slipped some of the wig’s hair through his fingers before adjusting it so it sat properly on your head. His fingers lingered for a second before he nodded. “I can’t even recognize you. Let’s go before they catch up.”

Anakin walked out of the store first and scoped the street. He looked left and right before quickly going back inside. He grabbed you and shoved the both of you behind the first rack of clothes he saw. You were about to protest when you saw the two men from earlier, the one who was recording had his camera by his side. They went up to the shopkeeper at the cashier and began to converse with the lady, most likely asking her if she had seen anyone with the same description as you. While they were distracted, you and Anakin looked at each other and secretly decided to make a run for it.

You both ran out of the store and into an alleyway nearby. You saw the paparazzi running past the alleyway as you were catching your breath. Then, you started to giggle. The whole situation was absurd. You, standing in an alleyway, with a bright wig and sunglasses–obviously a terrible disguise–and Anakin Skywalker, the most famous Jedi at the moment, dressed in all of his Jedi garb with his lightsaber attached at the hilt.

“What are you laughing at?,” Anakin asked, one of his perfectly shaped eyes arched. You must have looked crazy.

“I’m laughing at the situation. I look like a clown,” you replied. “Let’s go, I’m hungry after all that running and chasing. Let’s get something to eat–my treat.” You then walked out of the alleyway together. Before you stepped into the public view, you turned towards Anakin, “Thank you, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done without you to save the day.” You gave Anakin a look of genuine gratefulness.

The both of you proceeded in the direction of the shops.

“Come on, pop star. I know a great diner that my old master loves. It’s called Dex’s Diner. Have you ever been there before?” Anakin asked.

The both of you arrived at Dex’s Diner and proceeded to order half the menu. You spent hours in the diner, the both of you enjoying each other’s company after the crazy events of the day.

You spent the same evening replaying all of the times Anakin touched you and how each touch made you feel.

You decided it was time to get out of your head and back into the present. If you stayed in the sonic tub any longer, you wouldn’t have enough time to get ready without feeling rushed. You stood up from the sonic tub and grabbed the plush white robe sitting on the table next to it. You then put the robe on and walked toward the mirror.

You grabbed the brush and started brushing through your hair to ensure that any tangles and knots were out. After deciding your hair was neat enough, you put the brush down and started moisturizing your body with your favorite lotion. You would let your hair air dry until you figured out how you wanted to style it. The lotion was made from the musk-rose plant and mixed with tiny hints of vanilla. When you were done moisturizing your body and applying your skincare, you walked out of the room and into the closet directly in front of the refresher.

To say your closet was huge is an understatement. When you finally earned enough credits to afford a high-rise apartment, the one thing you told your realtor was that you would not compromise on a small closet. The closet was lined with shelves and racks, each holding either your clothes or your shoes. In the middle of the closet sat an island, constructed with cream-yellow Selonian marble, that stored all of your accessories. A floor-to-ceiling mirror and lounging chaise were perched at the far corner of the room. You walked over to the shelf that held your dresses and began to sift through them. You felt the soft silks, thin taffetas, and the gorgeous gemwebs of your collection.

“Aha,” you muttered as your hand finally landed on the gown you were looking for. The gown, designed by one of the most in-demand fashion ateliers, was a floor-length, demicot silk-lined tight velvet black gown with a curved necklace. The upper half of the gown was pale pink and covered in a multitude of tiny sequins and pearl studs. One shoulder extended out into the shape of a single petal, which was also fabricated with sequins and pearls. You paired it with a pair of black gloves that extended to your mid-bicep. The dress was as much haute as it was a piece of wearable art. If there was one thing you loved about being wealthy, it was the clothes.

You laid your evening gown on the chaise before traveling to your vanity and beginning on your makeup. Since the gown was extravagant in itself, you decided that a more subtle makeup look would complement the overall look more. You wanted people to focus on the gown and all its intricacies and craftsmanship. After glossing your lips with a matching shade of pink, you finished your makeup and moved on to your hair. You settled on a suitable hairstyle and allowed your loose face-framing layers to enhance the shape of your face.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once more before deciding you were ready to go. You walked out of your room and towards the living where Anakin was waiting for you.

To be continued...

(Here is a link to the dress, which was designed by Miss Sohee. One thing I love about the SW universe is the fashion, so I wanted to include a dress that reflected that. Like, come on. Have you seen Padme’s and Satine’s outfits?)

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

#kendra's works !!!#anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars anakin #star wars #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #tcw anakin #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalkwer x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you

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chioneeirwen · 11 months ago

Text

The Search...

Chione had spent days trying to find a contract to hire. And still, no one bit the bait. Groaning, she threw the files of these missing men on her desk, littering the already disorganized mess she made.

“Ugh… I’m just about to look for these damned fools myself. How has NO ONE taken the bait for gil? It seems like no one cares about workers anymore. Especially if they’re not wealthy, with gold lining their pockets.” Chione spat in annoyance. She was clueless about what to do next. And, of course, since she earned the rank of Lieutenant at the Barracks, everyone was too afraid of her to even speak to her. Another sigh left her lips as she pushed away from her desk, her back hitting the cushioned seat behind her. Her arm bent, and her forefinger and middle finger rested at her temple to ease the pressure that was building behind her eyes from reading too much in such piss-poor lighting. Eventually, she stood and picked up the papers and put them back in a neat pile before placing them back into their folder and putting them in the safe that was embedded into the stone wall behind her desk. Clearing her desk completely, she sighed before approaching a small servant’s cart, taking a wine glass, flipping it over, and pouring crimson liquid into the container. She returned to her office chair, her mind clouded by those people who went missing.

“Twelve hear me… Please let these people be safe…” Chione whispered to the cold air, earning silence as her response. She relaxed, practically melting into the seat, taking a drink from the wine glass. Another sigh left her nostrils. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear a rap at her door before hearing the hinges squeak. Looking up, she sees she’s met with her maid, Teagan. “Oh, Teagan! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you knock. Please come in,” Chione invited with a pleasant smile. Teagan returned her smile and entered Chione’s chambers fully, the room feeling homey and clean.

“What can I do for you this evening, Teagan? It is rather late, and I figured you and the rest of the household would be asleep by now,” Chione said, straightening in her seat and trying to remain proper in front of her attendant.

“I’m sorry for the late intrusion, Milady,” Teagan began, bowing swiftly in greeting.

“No need to apologize! Is something amiss?” Teagan pulled a missive from her coat and handed it to Chione. “I think someone answered your bounty, milady…” Chione stood from her leather-cushioned armchair, and gently took the letter from Teagan’s grasp and used a small blade to open the parchment. Inside was indeed a response, but the name was unfamiliar to her. Chione looked back up at her maid, who was lightly playing with her fingers.

“Thank you for delivering this to me, Teag… Did someone give this to you, or was it dropped off?” She questioned as she placed the missive back on her desk. The maid shook her head, “I didn’t see anyone when I heard the knock on the door. I came down the stairs from my bed chambers, walked to the door, and saw this missive jammed in the door frame. It looked like whoever responded didn’t want to be seen or spoken to. I opened the front door and looked around but didn’t see anyone.”

Chione sat back in her chair and pondered, her fingers touching her palm, her thumb and forefinger resting against her chin. After sitting there silently, Teagan clears her throat and pulls the Lady out of thought. “A-Also, Milady, I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion to Lieutenant. You are more than deserving of this promotion and its power.” Teagan said with a simpered smile. Chione looks up at her and responds with a smile. “Thank you, Teagan. Your kindness is appreciated.” She finishes with a grin.

The tall elezen man stood in a dark alleyway of a noble home he’d known since he could walk on his own two feet. Their families history running long and deep that their parents pushed for the young woman and man to become quick friends and possibly mates. However, at a young age, Hex found himself annoyed of the young girl and was quick to push her to the ground and pull at her hair in passing.

Even in Sharlayan he continued to be her bully, but that one fateful Starlight Celebration and he was without a family to celebrate with, he found Chione standing amongst others before inserting himself. The years hadn’t been kind between them, but for that celebration she was his salvation. Since then, he’s held a certain soft spot when it came to her, but of course he wouldn’t admit it.

Now that he’d seen her missive, searching for her men, he found himself answering her call while standing silently in the shadows of the dark cold night. Silently cursing himself on his decision to answer, he was close to leaving when he saw her window light still on that he found himself scaling the walls and up the window where he’d find himself perched all those years before.

Hex listened to the conversation and waited for the maid to leave. When she did, he reached for the window to see if she left it unlocked like she did before, and to his surprise, it was open. Pushing it open slowly, he stepped through the window frame, his soft leather padding of his boot hitting the floorboards bringing in a slight chill to the otherwise warm room.

“Long time no see, kitten.” Hex spoke in a soft and low baritone.

“Sleep well, Teag… I’ll see you bright and early in the morning,” Chione said, a warm smile tugging her lips. Teagan bowed graciously. “Goodnight, Milady.”

Chione nodded, and Teagan left. Hearing the hinges creak to a close, Chione let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding in. Soon, she felt a draft and a slight shiver ran up her spine. Standing from her seat, she pulled her linen robe around her torso and slid her slippers back onto her feet before walking towards her window when that all too familiar voice echoed into her ears again. Looking at her window, she saw the tall Elezen man lean against the wall beside the now-closed pane.

“Silas…” Chione gaped in surprise, feeling a little revealing in front of the man she hadn’t seen in almost a decade. The memories of her bully becoming her lover in an all too quick time, just for it all to wash away. And now the man she thought she’d never see again was standing in front of her with an all too familiar smirk, and the bass in his voice sent a chill up her spine. “What are you doing here?” Chione questioned as she pulled her garments closer to her body.

“It appears you got my missive.” Silas pushed himself from the window pane and walked towards her slowly. For someone who hated the cold he definitely wasn’t dressed for a cold winter night in Coerthas. Home to his father, Chione and himself, once upon a time.

“And it appears congratulations are in order, Lieutenant.” Silas said lowering himself to meet her gaze with a slight tilt to his head and a smirk on his lips. He wore nothing but a leather jacket, pants, and a thin pair of gloves. Silas pulled one glove from his hand, and if allowed he’d reach over to line his fingers against the lapels of her linen robe.

Silas kept his eyes on where his hand was placed before he slowly retracted and raised that same hand to brush his grey hair back. His red unusual eyes glistened in the soft light when he turned his gaze back down to her.

“Your bounty,” Silas started off by saying and giving a brief pause. “You’re losing men and no one is willing to search for them?” He asked going straight to business to distract himself from his wandering mind.

His mind kept going back to their brief romance. How stupidly infatuated with her but his own mistake causing them to argue and ultimately ending their romance. Again Silas removed his gaze to distract himself further, allowing her the time to give more information on the men she’d lost and about the bounty itself.

Chione’s eyes glared slightly at the male in front of her as he told her about the anonymous letter. Her breath hitched in her throat as he reached to touch her, but only pinching the folds of the collar on her robe, her nerves shot. Feeling the warmth from his fingers behind the only layer of clothing between them, she began to get butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Watching him as he pulled his hand away to brush the soft hair she once used to play with out of his face.

“Thank you,” Chione responded quickly, hearing him congratulate her on her promotion. “But you’re the one who responded to my message? Why would you want to help me? I thought you had other things to worry about,” she said, trying to sound dismissive toward the man. She returned to her desk and grabbed her wine, which she took a rather large drink from—another sigh leaving her small frame.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a decade, and THIS is how you choose to rekindle the friendship? A silly message response?” Chione said with a tinge of sadness as she turned back to look at Silas, her baby blues piercing his crimson eyes. Sighing, she rolled her eyes and returned to her desk chair, sitting down, her hands resting over her face. The blonde-haired woman was shocked. She couldn’t even describe her feelings as Silas stood in her bed chambers.

“What you can say, kitten is thank you, Silas for helping me.” He followed after her, his boots loose of any snow that had stuck to the soles, now leaving wet traces in his wake.

Silas stopped as she poured herself some wine and sighed as she returned to her desk chair. A sight to behold. He told himself. And once again he was cursing his mind for how quick it was to wander to their shared past.

Instead of arguing with her, at least for that moment he leaned down and tilted her chin up with his thumb and index finger. “Allow me to start over.” Silas whispered.

“Hello, Chione, it’s been a while, did you miss me, my kitten?” His voice lowered now that he was face to face with her.

Chione’s breath hitched in her throat. Hearing him tease her over her reaction to him showing up at her home in Coerthas, where the weather was harsh and extremely cold, the blonde-haired woman looked up slightly, seeing him approach her massive desk. Hearing his words, she put her head down again, still shocked about him showing up. Chione suddenly felt soft, yet cool skin touch her face before her head moved slightly to look up at the tall man. His words were like a song, sending palpitating beats through her heart. Her blue orbs watered slightly.

“Of course I missed you… You left me alone after I found you with a girl who absolutely despised me. You cheated on me, then degraded me to your friends while the same bitch was on your arm like a trophy… And here I am, feeling conflicted because you want to apologize.” She paused, the water in her eyes causing her vision to blur. “And you want to ‘start over?’ What am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to feel?” Chione whispered, pulling her face away from his digits. Standing up, she finished her glass and placed it on the dark oak desk—a heavy sigh leaving her body.

“How many times are you going to put me through the mental stress..?” Chione whispers, turning to look up at Silas. Hurt evident in her facial features.

“I would've killed for you to love me, but it was always me getting bullied instead. Or you yanking on my hair and shoving me… Whereas, I would and always did bend over backwards for you and put you on such a high pedestal…” Chione spoke softly, her emotions getting to her.

Silas was never overly confident when it came to Chione. As a child he’d argue that he couldn’t stand her because their families placed too much expectation on them to be friends and later mates if they chose to do so. He hated how much he loved the colour of her eyes, almost muttering under his breath that he could drown in them, of course never loud enough for her to hear, perhaps except the one time he said it out loud. While they welled up with water, he wanted to wipe them away but before he could, she had already turned her head away from him.

Chione always knew how to pull herself away from him, protecting not only herself but her heart too. And there was little reason why she should trust him when all he’d done was hurt her. Whether it was physical or even mentally. Silas was hardly the good man his family hoped he’d be. Her words were like different knives, stabbing into him. Each word true. He did wrap his arms around a girl, but the cheating, he took no part in. Truth be told, he teased the girl relentlessly in a bid to see who could get her more interested in him only to reject her later. Silas stooped low when she brought up Chione. The girl hated her for some unknown reason and likely took in the fact that he too used to feel the same.

A silly game he and his friends played but never wanted to when it came to Chione. But she wouldn’t believe him, not after this long. It’s been a decade since. While she got up to stand, his shoulder brushed against hers and he stayed leaning forward while reflecting on his past actions.

“You know I never wanted to hurt you.” His voice low and sorrowful. “Not in that way, but you wouldn’t understand.” Silas finally stood and turned to face her. His ungloved hand reaching out for her again but this time he stopped himself from touching her.

Silas’ hand fell to his side, his fingers lightly tapping against his leg like he used to do as a child whenever he was lost in thought. He couldn’t exactly tell her that he wanted to be everything he wasn’t, for her. To be worthy of her affections and partner. But just like before, he was stopping himself from telling her more than he had to.

“I didn’t come here to bring you duress, I saw your bounty and wanted to help. As a member of the Kane family, even… unofficially and even if I’d been disowned, I can still help.” Silas deflected. “Our families as far as I know still have some sort of relationship.”

When Silas left the first time and after hurting Chione, he argued with his father that sent waves of shock throughout the noble house as well as the rest of Ishgard. Not only did his father disown him, but Silas was no where to be seen. He’d heard that the house was in chaos, a promise of marriage and proposal rumours circulated but with Silas gone and Silas Sr’s lips tight. The rumours became baseless and the house carried on as usual, just without the sole heir.

“If you wish for me to leave, then I can go. Is me being here worth that to you?” Silas inquired, this time looking into her eyes. His fingers still tapping lightly at his leg.

Chione turned to face Silas again, her eyes still full of tears and her lip quivered slightly.

“No, I don’t want you to leave. But hearing you say you never wanted to hurt me and that I don’t understand? What do I not understand? What you did was awful… Tell me to my face that you didn’t cheat on me. That’s all everyone spoke about after we broke up.” Chione said, the hurt in her features evident. She approached Silas with vigor, her feet still silent against the floorboards, taking his hand to stop his tapping, knowing that was a habit he’d had since she had known him. Looking up at his features, she couldn’t help but think about their past together. How he used to push her around, pull her braid, and or made her feel inferior. Her blonde waves cloaked her shoulders as her long curtain-like bangs framed her face. Her baby blues burning holes into the right side of his face, pleading silently to look at her.

“I appreciate you wanting to help me… I’m sorry for not expressing my gratitude. I just—you weren’t the person I was expecting to answer my missive about my workers going missing. Baurendouin barely gave me anything to go off on besides them not showing up to work.” Chione said, a sigh leaving her as she rested her head against his shoulder. His smell was calming to her, his presence feeling like home to her, too.

“The bounty price is 400k in gil. Thank you for lending me your help. If you’d like, I can come with you, so you don’t freeze to death.” She said quietly, a slight giggle leaving her lips. “Cause we all know how much you hate the cold.”

“You didn’t answer me, is me being here worth that mental stress to you?” Silas asked feeling her warm hand take his. His hand moved instinctively and his fingers were soon wrapped around hers.

Silas gently lifted her arm and placed her hand against his cold cheek before softly kissing it and moving his lips down to her wrist. His free hand wrapped around her waist loosely while he gazed down at her. He couldn’t help but think of how much shorter she was than him. When they first started to hang out he’d rest his arm on the top of her head before wrapping it over her shoulders.

“I didn’t cheat on you Chione, my kitten. Not once. Not ever. It was a stupid game.” His brows furrowed as he closed his eyes. Muttering the same words of it only being a game. “I agreed to set her up with the boys. Make her trust me, make her… fall for me, before I blindsided her and my friends with our relationship.” Silas whispered kissing her wrist again with his cold lips.

Finally, Silas opened his eyes and he looked down at her again. Her tone was light but serious as she explained what Baurendouin said about the missing men. While holding her in that position he wondered who the men were and why they hadn’t come out to work. Even wondering if they had too much to drink and didn’t show up the next day because of a hangover. But a hangover wouldn’t last for days.

Silas chuckled lightly putting her hand just over his heart. “I don’t need the gil, use it for the families, they’ll need it more than I ever would. Besides my father left me a hefty sum to leave until I got my ass screwed on right. His words, not mine.” The comment about him hating the cold was true. He used to argue with his mother when he had to come home to see his father.

Sometimes he’d take it out on Chione if she was nearby. But during that one Starlight Celebration, she was his warmth and he stuck to her like glue. At least one part of him was touching her at all times. Silas shook his head, his top teeth biting softly at his bottom lip while a soft chuckle escaped him again. “Are you going to keep me warm at night? Sliding into my bedroll, huddling close to me by the fire?”

Listening to him talk, she couldn’t help but sigh when the part about the girl who hated her came up again. Realization hit her hard when Silas spoke about the messed-up game he started with his friends.

“If you didn’t cheat on me, then why did everyone tell me you did, Silas?” she questioned him, lightly gripping his shirt, still feeling the lingering touches of his lips against her skin. “Why did you do that to the girl? She didn't deserve that just because she didn’t like me.” Chione was blindsided when Silas said that. She paused as he continued to speak, telling her about his father, the man who used to watch them grow up together while spending days away from Sharlayan. Looking up at him, she sighed, a slight smirk tugging at her lips as he teased her again.

“I doubt you’ll deny me, anyway, Si-Si. You’d kill to have me that close to you again. Besides, it’s been a while since you last had a competition with me to see who was the better swordsman.” She teased him as she let go of his shirt to go sit by the fireplace. Sitting down on the soft white carpet, she stared into the flames as they danced their erotic dance for her.

“It’s killing me that all the memories of us came flooding back the minute I heard your voice again, but I need to focus on House Eirwen and the factories I manage. I need to focus on finding those poor workers who disappeared. I’ll need to talk with Baurendouin again and have him give me the emergency link pearls of the people who are missing… Can I rely on your blade again, Silas?” Chione asked as she lifted her head to look at him from across her bedroom.

“Chione,” Silas said her name in a more serious tone. “Didn’t my father send word that I’ve been disowned?” In truth, Silas wasn’t sure if that was public knowledge. His mother hardly said anything to him when it came to his father. And in return, he didn’t ask. Neither did he ask about the affairs of the house, nor its occupants. When she gripped his shirt lightly he glanced down at the way her fingers curled around the fabric for a moment before turning his attention back to her.

“The day after… after our fight, I was told to leave. As for that girl, she deserved far worse than what I was planning on doing with her. She’d of course done a lot worse things to you if I hadn’t intervened. Not only did I threaten her, I threatened her family too.” Silas sighed letting go of her hand to rub his face. He didn’t think he’d have to explain his past actions, yet here he was. Trying to justify and explain them to her.

Si-Si. Now that was a name he hadn’t heard in so long. There were at least a handful of people that he spoke to regularly who didn’t know him by the moniker, Hex. So when she said her old nickname for him, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling gently and following after her in front of the fireplace. Silas removed his leather jacket, exposing a form-fitted black turtleneck with a silver chain.

He sat down beside her, dropping his jacket at his side and softly extended his fingers out to the flame. Both of his arms are on each side of his knees. “I would,” Silas whispered. His tone, was low and soft as he spoke. “Kill… I mean. If that’s what it took for us to start over again, I’d do it.”

“By the twelve…” He whispered again, this time dropping his head between his knees. “This is why I’ve avoided you for over a decade, I knew just being near you, I’d melt.” Silas chuckled lightly and lifted his head. While Chione spoke, Silas turned to look over at her. The flames of the fire cast shadows on her face as she spoke. Her blue eyes filled with emotion as she spoke about her people, and how she had to focus on her house.

He knew what that meant. There was no room for him in her life, at least not at that moment. “This Baurendouin, would he have a file of the people missing? Address, family? That sort of thing.” Silas distracted himself from what she’d just said, but he nodded slowly. A low self-deprecating laugh escaped him soon after, “You may. I’ll help you, I already answered your missive, did I not?”

Chione smiled at him and reached for his slender hand. She scaled his frame with intent and interest.

“No, no one told us anything about you being disowned and disappearing. We haven’t heard anything from the Kane family since we called off our relationship. After that, I’ve just been focusing on business with my manufactory and discussing business for trading with my cousin, Vahalia Cress. I run Eirwen Steel and Stone now in my father's stead since he’s a Temple Knight under Lord Commander Aymeric.” Chione said, reaching to touch Silas’s hand softly.

“And now, knowing that you were disowned by your father,” she pauses, sighing and lowering her head in sadness. “It’s hard to even continue speaking with them.” Chione finishes, tightening her grip slightly on his hand and scooting her small frame over to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, a heavy breath escaping her nostrils, feeling exasperated from the events of her evening.

“Well, difficult for me anyway, to speak to your parents.”

“Where are you staying? I can have you stay here with me if you’d like, and we can go over a plan for tomorrow morning since I have to go to the factory and do my daily check-ups for my foremen.” She whispered as she stared at the flames, slightly embarrassed that she had opened her door to him. The blonde-haired woman couldn’t deny the feelings she had for him still. They were the complete opposite of each other but also felt equal—one.

“Then we’ll be able to speak with Baurendouin. If the daft man shows his face.” Chione scolds in jest.

Silas looked towards her with a surprised expression. From what his mother said, it’s been announced that he was removed from society and disowned. Or at least some variation of that. A wave of confusion went through him as he wondered what his father was thinking. His fingers drummed lightly against his knee as he was lost in thought but made sure to listen to her.

Vahalia, that name was familiar to him. She was part of the Cress family and a cousin to Chione. He’d only seen her a handful of times as their friends never collided with one another so he truthfully didn’t know much about her other than the few times he’d seen her. “It appears I’ve been away for too long if you’re the one running the Eirwen Steel and Stone now.” He laughed lightly shaking his head.

“You know how the old farts in this part of the world are.” Silas laughed. “You do something wrong and you’re quickly dismissed. Now if I were half the man they thought I’d be, then that would be a different story. But I am not.” He smiled looking into the dancing flames.

His body slowly began to warm up by the time Chione asked where he was spending the night. “Ahh, truthfully I was planning on leaving through the aetheryte and deal with the sickness afterwards before returning. I hardly have the supplies and clothing needed to weather the cold.”

Silas leaned his head towards her as she rested her head on his shoulder. “If that’s your way of asking me to stay kitten I will. Are you offering your bed to me, or are you going to make me stay in the guest quarters?” He reached over to take her chin, but this time more gently as he tilted her head up.

Silas stalling as he wondered if kissing her would be too much, but he leaned forward leaving just barely enough room between them. Her breath tasted like the wine she’d just drank and he wondered what the rest of her tasted, especially after all this time. “Slap or hit me if I’m being too forward.” His tone low and soft.

Chione’s face flushed in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement about the older Elezen in charge, feeling his fingers delicately take her chin. Their eyes met. The tension between the two was undeniable, and it felt like they started where they left off, minus Silas tormenting her.

“I–I think it might be too early for that, Silas…” she stuttered; feeling like the cliche school girl all over again. Her heart was about to burst. If it beat any harder and louder the man before her was bound to hear it himself.

“But I won’t strike you for it, that’s just silly.” Chione finished as she tried to clear her throat and pull away, but found herself still staring. His red orbs captivated her. Her toes becoming a little too warm as they sat by the fire in her room. Enjoying his presence was something she was always catching herself liking. The blonde woman snickered to herself as his question finally hit her.

“I’d only offer my couch in my room to you for right now. You have to earn my affections before you jump into my bed, sir.” she jested as she nudged him slightly, finally able to pull her eyes from his. Sighing, the blonde-haired woman stretched her arms above her head, the sleeves of her robe riding up her biceps, showing slight muscle in her slender frame, and yawned. Fixing her lounge pants and tank top, she shivered slightly.

“I can’t believe you pulled the same shit you did when we were kids. Climbing the wall like an Opo-Opo. What is up with that?” Chione laughed as she watched him, sensing the wheels in his head turning.

Silas groaned slightly and used his now free hand to cup the side of his face. “You are… something.” He muttered wanting to torment her further. So he did, he gently pushed her down into the plush carpet and wiggled himself in between her legs while his arm rested beside her head.

“Will you strike me now?” Silas asked lightly trailing his finger on her exposed thigh. He leaned down and gently left a wake of kisses on her collarbone, neck and jaw before pulling away. Waves of desire nearly took over when he remembered that this wasn’t what he wanted either. This time he wanted to do something right and so he pulled himself off her and just knelt there, still in between her legs.

“Perhaps an inn would be safest.” Silas chuckled lifting her back up to sit. “I can always climb back down like an Opo-Opo.” He laughed again, this time with her while she got up to get herself ready for bed. “Or… the sofa can work too.” A soft groan left him while he laid on top of the carpet, his eyes fixated on the ceiling above.

“So tomorrow, we’ll head over to the factory then?” Silas inquired, wanting to follow up on what she said before.

Chione gasped lightly as the tall male worked his way in between her legs, his question ringing in her ears as he peppered her chest, neck, and jaw with soft wet kisses. Her mind was so fuzzy from his touch before he stopped and pulled away. Champagne-colored hair plummed behind her head as she opened her eyes, unbeknownst to her that she had closed them the second he closed the gap between their bodies. Her feelings being pulled in every direction. Looking up at him, her blue orbs searching his crimson ones for any inkling of his actions. Chione knew better than to make a man kiss and tell, knowing that wasn’t how most men operated.

“No, I will not hit you, you masochist,” Chione laughed as she took his hands to help her sit back up straight. “But yes, if things did go from there, an inn would be our best bet until I bought my own land.”

Standing on her feet as Silas rolled onto his back, to stare at the ceiling, Chione walked to her bathroom as he jested with her about being called a small lemur. She stepped into her bathroom and wet her toothbrush as the silvery-haired Elezen asked her a question regarding their day tomorrow.

“Yes, I need to check on my Foremen and how things are running while short-staffed. Baurendouin better be there tomorrow, or I’ll blow a fuse.” She called, toothpaste slathered everywhere as she cleaned her teeth. With a hefty spit, she spat the remaining toothpaste into the washbasin as she rinsed the bristles of the toothbrush under the cool water before leaning down and gathering some of the liquid in her mouth to swish around and remove any loose gunk she might’ve missed. Reaching for her brush, she began to gently brush her hair as she walked to the threshold of her bathroom door, watching the man lay on her carpet, the steady rise and fall of his chest calming her. Thoughts ravaged her mind about what her parents might think, seeing Silas come back into the picture. Coming home. Chione’s father adored Silas and always viewed him as the “son he never had.” A soft simple smile tugged at the corners of her nude lips, the light tugging of knots not phasing her. As she finished she looked back at Silas, her eyebrow raised slightly. A low chuckle left her and she walked to her bed that sat in the corner of her spacious room. Pulling the blankets back; she readied herself for bed. Pulling a pillow and a heavy blanket off her bed, she placed them on the couch.

“Here you go, if you need clothes I can call for Belmont?” Chione said as she sat down on her bed.

While Chione got herself ready for bed, Silas’ mind reeled on the fact he had nearly had his way with her. Both of his hands lifted as he pressed both palms against his face, trying to think of anything disgusting to stop his lower half from rising any higher. When the splashes of water came from the bathroom, he peeked through his fingers and watched as the curls from her head draped over her shoulders. Again, he was thinking of how soft her skin felt against his lips and he quickly covered his eyes again.

Old, wrinkley, nuns… old, wrinkley nuns… nuns… Chione in a nun dress… Chione in a sexy… nun dress. No! Twelves above strike me now. Old wrinkley nuns! Old wrinkley stinky nuns! Silas chanted in his mind until he heard the water stop.

Everything she’s said was lost to him and his mind as he propped himself up on his elbows. For once he felt relieved that she couldn’t see the flush on his cheeks. “I don’t need any, unless you’d feel more comfortable I’m clothed from head to toe after, well…” Silas chuckled sitting himself up to hide what was going on in his pants.

He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it from his shoulders exposing his upper frame. There were multiple scars from his life out in the open world. Stories he’d likely have to tell her sometime if she ever asked about them. While she brought over the pillow and blanket, he at least calmed down enough that he could stand and unbutton his pants but stopped before looking at her.

“Think I can wear just my underclothes for bed, kitten? Or would you be more comfortable if I wore pants?” He asked, wondering what she'd be most comfortable with.

Chione watched him as he began to remove his articles of clothing. Exposing his torso to her, she saw the multitude of scars on his skin. Knowing better than to reopen old wounds, she’d badger him about those stories in the future, knowing full well it would take a miracle now for him to disappear from her life.

“No, I don’t mind if you sleep in your underwear,” She spoke softly, her heart skipping a beat at her old nickname. Kitten. It made her feel cherished in a way. Loved. But Chione had different priorities now than a school crush… Or did she? She tried to deny any and all feelings for that boy since he bullied her throughout their lives together. But that Starlight Celebration that they shared together all those years ago still clouded her mind every time she caught herself staring off into the aether. Chione shielded her eyes to give him privacy and he finished removing his clothes and lied down on the couch. The soft fleece quilt covering him. Remembering she still had her articles of clothing on she stood and turned her back to him, giving herself the little privacy she could. The sheer midnight blue robe gently slid off her back, hanging it on the hook by her bed. She wore shorts that were black and a lighter Dragoon-ish blue-colored tanktop. With nimble fingers, she pulled her champagne-colored hair into a messy bun atop her head before sliding into the sheets of her bed, covering her petite body.

“Goodnight, Si-Si… I’ll see you in the morning,” Chione whispered as the two drifted off to sleep.

@vahalia-cress @hex-xiv

#The Ishgardian Noble #Stories

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