#anakin series

[forever--darling]

young padawan

summary: in the midst of chaos, you have only two to hold onto, obi-wan & his young padawan. as bakura continues to burn, you can't deny the comfort & safety that is brought by the two jedis, all while you recount your life on the fallen planet

pairings: anakin skywalker x princess!reader

word count: 6.5k

warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone wars, swearing, mention of blood, the long escape that is from bakura, as well protector!anakin

series masterlist | 01

“Your highness, we must go.” 

The alarm was like something you had never heard before, almost like a high-pitched scream. It was blaring, outweighing the sounds of gunfire and screams from across the floor. Eyes piercing the back of the Jedi before you, leading you through the capital, his light saber clutched tightly in his opposing arm, the other held tightly onto your hand. 

“No, no, we can’t leave him. We have to go back, we have to try—try to convince him—or something.” 

The pale robes were rustled along his frame, held together by the single brass armor wrapped around his abdomen. His long hair brushing along his neck, head on a swivel as he quickly lead you throughout the abandoned halls of the building. 

“Princess…” 

“We must—” 

“Your—” 

“Obi-Wan, please.” 

Screams and yells echoed across the corridors, corridors that were no longer untouched, you noticed. Rather just as red, just as bright as the alarm, bathed in the blood of the staff of the capital of fellow Bakurans. A void had seemed to fall upon you, numbness that led to silence and disengagement, as you walked quickly but carefully, almost glued to the older Jedi's back. Eyes sweeping along the nightmare that had become of your city. 

“Y/N!” he yelled, both of his hands taking a firm hold upon your shoulders, “We cannot go back. There is not enough time. Not if we want to succeed in your survival. We must go now.”

This is the end. 

Of not you then your sanity, no doubt. The hood felt heavy along your head, concealing the peripheral of your vision, of the horrors that were sure to surround you. As Obi-Wan halted at the edge of the hall, his arm barred out blocking you from advancing. With his saber raised, he peeked around the corner, the hidden corridor that not many people realized was even useable within the capital.

You merely held your breath, waiting, worrying how this would all end. 

His eyes flickered around the room though you were hidden from it. Voices echoed, paired with footsteps in the opposite direction. As they faded, he peered back as if to check on you. Your face was expressionless, a fine line into nothing. 

The static appeared again, quiter than it had earlier, from Obi-Wan’s belt. The voice was the same as it had been before. “Master! Master, come in!” 

Obi-Wan pulled the com near his face and held the button near the side of it, “I’m here, my Padawan.” 

“What’s your status, Master?” 

“You shouldn’t worry, young apprentice we are near. Shouldn’t be more than another minute or so.” 

“The gates are overcome with rebels, sir. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up.” 

A worry line etched across the Jedis face at the sound of his young Padawan’s voice. You watched it carefully, almost quizzically. The only thing you could swear to remember from that day other than the red lights and the red walls. 

“Should I head for the ship? Get it as close as I can?” 

“No. I may need you nearby to help with the safe extraction of the princess.” 

He protested, “But Master—” 

“I believe in you, Anakin. Forge for the east side of the capital. You will find a row of doors there. That is where we will meet you.” 

Placing the com back onto his belt, he turned down the static enough that it were mumble. He peeked once again arond the corner and as he did he spoke back at me, “The room is clear but we have to move quick, another raid could be advancing soon. Just another hallway and then we’ll be near the east entrance.” 

His words felt as if they had gone in one ear and out the other. You could only stare forward, eye vacant of reality other than the last remaining gaze upon your father’s broken frame. He could have been dead at that very moment. Slain, sure to go down with the rest of the capital if the clones were to set fire to it as they had with most of the city. 

Obi-Wan had sensed your hesitation as well as yoru voidness. “Your highness?” 

“Yes?” your voice was meek, a whisper, startled as if he had pulled you from the depths of your mind. 

“I need to ensure that you’re listening to everything I am saying.” 

You nodded, it was all you could get out then as you could hear the echo of footsteps following down the same hallway you two were standing at the end of. Glancing over your shoulder, you waned against Obi-Wan’s back. 

“Okay, now follow close.” 

He extended his saber out from behind the wall, the blue hue emitting along the broken and slicked walls. Ensuring the hood was far across your head, you stepped out just behind Obi-Wan, head moving from side to side following any noises or unsteady silence that poked and prodded at your ears. The woosh of the saber was a mere mumble along the empty corridor of the capital. You were near the front of the building, that you could notice from the once marble pillars that now lay strewn, pulled down. Any and all artifacts and paintings were in ruins, and blood from innocent Bakurans smeared along the front steps.

 The footsteps seemed to get louder, louder as you advanced across the corridor. You felt as if all the hairs on the back of your neck were wire, sticking up, while the energy seemed to shift around the room, it was almost as if you could feel it. “Obi—” 

“Shh.” 

It was then the trot had advanced rather quickly just as you were entering the last hallway. You were so close, so close to being rid of that place. So close and yet—

“We got eyes!” a voice yelled out from the other end of the room, “It’s the princess.” 

As the voice yelled across the room, you felt Obi-Wan grab your arm and swing you around so you were now in front of him near the hallway. As the footsteps sounded like a sudden stampede behind you, gunshots followed, only to be deflected by the blue saber in Obi-Wan’s hands. 

You looked back at him expectnantly not sure what to do as you peered past him to see the rebels followed closely by clones. 

“Run!” Obi-Wan yelled, then, “Run, god damn it. I’ll be right behind you.” 

You did as he asked. You did as your father had planned for you. You turned, and you took off down the hallway, the long pale hallway void of anything and everything. Just a few more turns, and you would be at the east side entrance. The sounds followed of the saber, of Obi-Wan’s struggling breaths, of the com, his voice yelling into it. You didn’t stop, though, not even as the cloak threatened to trip you or the hood had fallen off your head onto your back. 

Not even as the voices followed.

“Not if we want to succeed in your survival. We must go now.”

His words echoed, staining your innocence as you both had left the king to die. 

“You, my dearest daughter, are more like your mother than you ever believe. One day you will make a magnificent queen.” 

“Anakin, be ready at the door,” Obi-Wan’s voice could be heard just down the hallway. 

It was the last thing you heard as you sprinted, through the hallway and out of the large metal door, the red lights still shielding your eyes from the white overheads they once were. Pushing the door open with all of your might, you stepped out, immediately being met with clouds of dark smoke. 

Your feet came to a stop on the outside of steps of the east entrance, the smoke billowing in your face enough to make you cough. Waving away the small gust in front of your face, you glared through the haze immediately feeling the horror amplify before your eyes. Red and orange flames accentuated the once blue and green planet. The city was doused, blinded by so much smoke you could only see the heat through it all. Piles of rubble doused the land as screams of men, women, and children were louder than they had been inside. The color drained from your face then as the only thing you could see through the haze was flashes of light from the guns, the blasters, and collapsed forms. 

A kick of a rock nearby startled you and suddenly you realized just how exposed and vulnerable you were outside — no longer behind a Jedis back. The figure who supposedly kicked the rock from a few feet away, froze in the street, frame turning slightly at the sight of your form through the smoke. He wore a mask concealing his face. 

The anger was gone, the frustration. Suddenly, all that remained was fear. As the stranger tilted his head curiously and took a step closer, you took one further down the steps. You took another, watching carefully how he advanced. As he took another, you broke out in a run down the remainder of the steps. 

You didn’t get very far as at the base of the entrance, a figure popped out from the side wall, their arms wrapping around your torso quickly. Pulling you into them, you felt yourself squirm, panic suddenly washing across your frame as the hold tightened. Just as you felt like yelling out for Obi-Wan, a hand clasped over your mouth as the tall figure pulled you flush against their chest. 

As they did, there seemed to be a sort of hesitation behind their touch. A lack of anger or immorality that you would have expected if it were a rebel. Instead, a certain feeling washed over you, one of unfamiliarity, almost as if the force itself was asking you to relax back into it. Like the energy around you was more than it had been moments ago upon that front step. Fear diminished then.

They leaned closer, their lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as you fought against the iron-like grip. They wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t wane in the slightest. Their palm was warm across your lips and smelled like sweat. Your breathing was short, uneven, moving far too quickly in fear. He could feel it radiating off of you. His grip loosened slightly but didn’t fall from your frame. Carefully, you glanced back, and relief somehow flooded your system at the sight of a Padawan braid in your peripheral vision. 

The Padawan. 

Obi-Wan’s Padawan. 

Sighing against his frame, his nose tickled your temple as he peeked from around the large wall that was hiding the two of you. As he did this, it allowed you to take him in much more closely. He was young, no younger than you but young. You couldn’t help but trace him with your eyes, there was no other comfort you had at that moment. You followed the slope of his nose, of the defining line of his jaw, and the curve to his lips. His eyes were blue. The rare kind of blue that wasn’t too light but almost reflected oceans. A deep blue, that you somehow could see even through the billowing air. His hair was cut short, a dirty blonde along the top with a small ponytail in the back and, sure enough, behind his right ear, a Padawan braid. 

His eyes flickered down to you, having caught you in your act of staring. A small quirk to his lips, you noted as those blue eyes of his flickered across your features quickly, taking in you as well. Or at least that’s what you had thought, not willing to think it into existence. You didn’t have much time to question the validity as the door burst open again, echoing with a slam. 

Heavy breathing could be heard, but nothing else as the figure stood still upon the entrance. The Padawan lifted his finger to his lips, advising you to remain quiet, as his hand remained clasped across your mouth. You inhaled, closing your eyes tightly, hoping it all would be over soon, one way or another. 

There was another huff, a second passed, and then, “Padawan!” 

It was a hushed yell, and yet it was enough to douse your whole body in mere relief. Relief that Obi-Wan was alive. The young Jedi’s hand dropped from around your mouth, but his arm remained around your waist as he stepped out from your hiding spot, dragging you along with him once he had, in fact, confirmed in Master’s presence. 

Obi-Wan hurried over, “Good, you have her.” 

“Are you alright, Master?” 

It was the first you had heard him speak other than through the intercom laced to his Master’s belt and you felt taken aback by both the tone of it as well as the composure he displayed. 

The older Jedi exhaled a small smile appearing and then disappearing as another raid echoed a street or two over, “Yes, just trying to catch my breath.” 

His eyes fell to you then, still wrapped up in his young apprentice’s hold, and he couldn’t help but examine you quickly, “You okay?” 

Once again the only answer came out as a mere nod. 

“Alright, we have to keep moving. How much further is the ship?” 

The Padawan motioned over his shoulder, “Should be just on the northside of the city, near the ports.” 

“Which is about two blocks alright,” Obi-Wan noted out loud, observing the area around him, noting what movements he could see past the flames. “I’ll watch from the back, alright, while you lead my young apprentice. We want her in between us at all times. Got it?” 

“Yes Master.”

With that, the young Jedi released you, his hand reaching for his own saber that sat along his belt. He held it tightly within his grasp but didn’t dare ignite it. Not yet, not unless needed. There was no need to draw extra attention through the smog. Obi-Wan gripped his as well, glancing behind the three of you cautiously as his padawan began to advance from behind the wall. Just as he was about to enter out from the east entrance and into the open city, he stopped for a mere second. A moment of hesitation. 

He looked back over at you, surveying the tired expression that now bathed your skin in fear. Reaching forward, he took a hold of the hood of your cloak and pulled it up and over your head. Then without a single word spoken, he took your cold hand in his and placed it along the back of his armor, where you could onto it. Your fingers curled around it loosely. He nodded at you in confirmation before turning back to the street. He edged out slowly and then began to pick up his pace, keeping the three of you close to buildings, able to watch behind you in case someone appeared out from the clouds of smoke. 

You tried to block it all out, the way the horrendous smell of burning flesh lingered in your nose or how hot the ground at begun. You tried not to peer into the bushes of flowers that now lay abandoned in fits of ash. You tried to conceal it all away from you, once again peering at the back of the young Jedi’s back, hoping it would be enough to save what was left of your humanity. 

To save you from the dead faces of those you once ruled over willingly. 

To save you from the guilt of fleeing. 

“Anakin, to your left!” Obi-Wan suddenly yelled out, gaining the attention of his young Padawan. 

Out from the shadows came two clones paired with a rebel. A beacon blue appeared as you blinked and suddenly he was deflecting the string of beams that had appeared in your direction. Grunting with each collision, he slid forward swinging his saber around his back and within his palm against the lines of defense. You watched as with two quick strikes, the clones were left a few mere pieces short circuiting on the ground. 

The rebel stepped out from the shadows, a scary smile lifting across his face doused in war paint as he noticed your shaking frame back behind the young padawan, glued to Obi-Wan’s side. 

“Found you,” he laughed, his yellow-colored eyes peering past the haze at you. 

“Don’t look at her,” the Padawan hissed, drawing the rebel’s evil gaze again. “Look at me.” 

“Ah a young Jedi, protecting the queen-to-be, how sweet,” he laughed again and the shivers emitted across your back as you felt Obi-Wan take a hold of your arm, “Well your highness, I must say this will be an honor taking down your only means of escape. You’ll be at my disposable soon enough.”

Grabbing at his belt, a beam of red appeared, the saber emitting the evil-like color that became the new paint along the capital’s walls. The Padawan’s cold, hard stare refused to leave the rebel’s face. As the rebel tried to peer at you again, Obi-Wan’s Padawan lunged forward, his saber outstretched. The rebel met his reign of anger in a swift defense with his own saber. The sound of the two colliding echoed across the empty street. 

Once and then again and again. 

You watched as long as you could until Obi-Wan was advancing past the two, dragging you in tow across the block and near the ship. You kept trying to glance behind you to ensure the blue light still emitted, and sure enough, it was colliding with the red still, swinging back and forth. 

Obi-Wan kept pulling you along with him, that is, until another group of rebels stopped his trail, fewer clones accompanied at their sides. They saw his deflated form followed by your pretty eyes and smirked at one another. The one in the front let out a loud whistle, and before you realized Obi-Wan’s saber was outstretched, appearing just as blue as his young Padawan’s.

Nerves pricking away at your insides, you turned back to peer through the smoke to find the blue light from the saber no longer there, the red too now gone from your line of sight. You felt your throat tighten up. Almost painful enough to throw up at the thought of someone else dying just for your survival. The sounds of Obi-Wan’s saber moving through the air were all you could focus on as you squinted into the line of sight of where his Padawan once was. 

Your hands tightened as a figure began to appear. Moving, running through the smoke, far too quickly for you to identify the person. Your chest tightened, fear coating your trembling figure as it dashed through the smog, almost leaping. Landing a few feet away onto the middle of the road, a small relief appeared at the sight of the padawan. A smirk appeared across his lips, a furrowed look evident in his brow as he watched his Master take on the group of rebels. His saber ignited again, the hue of blue reflecting in his eyes as he moved to advance forward. 

As he made the first swing, sending a rebel to the ground, Obi-Wan felt his presence. Though it was needed, weeding out much of the enemy, he could also sense your vulnerability behind them. 

“You must get to the ship!” Obi-Wan yelled towards the Padawan. 

“I can’t just leave you here to fight them all by yourself, Master.” 

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be right behind you, but we can’t fight our way throught this. We have to get to the ship.” 

“And we will, together.” 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan scolded, his back pressed against his young apprentice, as he surged his saber forward into a rebel’s abdomen. “Take the princess. Go, now.” 

The young Jedi groaned in dismay but obeyed as he turned and looked back at you expectantly, “Come on!” 

He took a harsh hold of your hand and yanked, breaking out into a sprint. Your feet began to pick up, now willing to lose him in the fire. His grip was tight, almost achingly tight, as he used his saber as a guide through the darkness, using it once in a while for any clones or rebels that passed in front of the two of you. Coughing loudly, the smoke was invading your lungs and your body as your feet slapped against the host concrete of the capital of Bakura. Your breathing was heavy, matching the young padawans as he weaved you through the city, the woosh of his saber the only thing you could focus on. 

The screams of pain of those that ran into the path of the chosen one’s weapon weekend with each slice, and you hated how it all made you feel. So weak. So unlucky. 

As you felt your hand becoming numb from his harsh grip, the sounds of the city eased, almost into a faded silence, and in its place, the gentle lap of water. The smoke seemed to clear every so slightly, and you found the docks, almost walking straight off of them with how fast the Padawan was leading the two of you. Breathing heavily, he looked around, remembering where exactly he had placed the ship. His hand dropped yours then. 

“This way,” he said, darting to the right behind a long string of tall rocks that lined the body of water. 

You went to follow, but before you knew it, there was a flash of light, and your feet were taken out from beneath you. You didn’t even have time to scream, not as your body fell back into the lagoon. Sinking in within the confines of your cloak, a tall figure pushes you down. The man’s hard grip was locked around your waist, holding so tightly that you withered in pain. The dark water seemed to be encapsulating pulling you further and further down into its depths. 

You withered, trying to loosen the grip the rebel had around you, even more so as his hands moved up to take hold of your neck. Kicking, you felt the tightness around your throat come quickly. It was almost comforting because it meant it was almost over. All of it. 

The man’s face was shielded in melting paint, the night sky aiding in his identity. Trying to hold your breath so carefully, you tried to escape as you could, but it appeared unsuccessful as the man only squeezed tighter. You felt as if there was no point then. No hope.

“Father, what was it like being a Jedi?” the soft, child-like voice appeared like a lost memory. 

Your father’s followed closely, younger too, “It was like an adventure all the time, my sweet daughter. But it’s more than that, but an honor. There is much respect and to uphold as a Jedi.” 

“Like the force?” 

“Yes, the force,” he confirmed, chuckling, “Something I feel you will grow more closely to the older you get. You are my daughter after all.” 

The edges of your vision began to blur, the last bubbles of air seemed to escape from your nose, the lingering voice of the king of Bakura following you. At the sound of another splash just a few feet away within the lagoon, your eyes peeled back open, struggling even further. Your head ached, feeling as if it were going to explode as your hand raised near the rebel. With it outstretched, you thought of your father, of Bakura, your mother, all of those lost and abandoned by its army, by you. The energies seemed to align, something falling into place, as you internally screamed. The man’s hands released your throat, and he was thrown away from you further into the lagoon. 

Unable to look further, you swam to the surface, bursting out of the water with a final needful breath. Gasping, you peered up into the sky through the smoke to the stars. You could barely keep yourself up, body weakening. Breathing waning, you just continued to look up, feet kicking softly, aware you could get pulled back under. 

There was a burst through the surface, and you flinched only to find the Padawan. Clothes wet along his frame, he swam closer, a quirk of worry across his face, “I got him. I got him.” 

The closer he got, the more the water lapped into your face, and you struggled to stay afloat with the large cloak weighing you down. You groaned out as your legs felt heavy within the clothes. Reaching you, his arms scooped around your frame, either one where the rebels used to be. 

“Keep your head back,” he instructed, as his arms began to pull at the cloak around your frame. “I have you.”

It loosened after two tugs slipped from your body with ease. His hands found your waist again as he began to swim you guys back towards the edge of the lagoon. Your breath had shallowed out, the edges of your eyes still blurry, a certain feeling of darkness creeping within your chest. 

It was as his hand tightened along your side that you let out a groan of pain. Hot and stabbing sensations shot towards your abdomen. Surprised by the sound, the padawan looked down at you, a worried look appearing for a mere moment as he stepped up onto the shore and pulled you up behind him. 

The pain worsened then, the oxygen hitting your body harshly. Your breathing quickened again, this time horrendously, as you peered up to the sky. Glancing down, your hand reached for where his once was. It stung at the contact of your palm, and as you pulled it back, you found it stained with red. 

“Shit. Shit,” he swore, his own hands replacing yours over the wound, “Fuck."

Your eyes fluttered, the tiredness of it all too much, the ache of the pain, the loss consuming you. Obi-Wan’s Padawan leaned over you, his wet frame leaving droplets across your face as he tried to keep your eyes open. “Hey, look at me. Just look at me. Gotta keep those pretty little eyes open for me, your highness.” 

You couldn’t even react to his words, couldn’t even react at him calling your eyes pretty. Nothing but the way the pain began to swallow you. His blue eyes. His sweet blue gaze locked with yours, his pursed lips moving but no sound reaching you. The only thing you could hear at all was the waning of your breath and the shallow beating of your heart. 

The edges were becoming dark, the stars blurring into streaks of the sweetest colors, almost colliding with the sweet pigments of the Padawan’s skin and eyes.

The young Jedi stared down at the pale form of the Bakura’s princess, the curse words of an endless spiel falling from his parted lips. His hands were stained, stained with the darkest red, as your chest began to slow in the way it rose and fell. Eyes fluttered shut, a peace seemed to overtake your form, and he felt the way his chest tightened unwillingly. 

After everything, you couldn’t die. You couldn’t. Not when him and Obi-Wan had gotten this far to save you, to make sure you lived. He wouldn’t allow it. 

“Anakin!” 

The yelling voice of his Master drew his unsteady gaze away from your still frame. An emergence of blue light appeared through the cloud of smoke. Other footsteps followed close behind. As Obi-Wan’s eyes found the frame of the young princess, he stopped momentarily, just for a mere second, to think about the possibilities of what could have happened. 

Anakin stared up at him in disbelief, lost of what to do next. 

“Pick her up!” his Master suddenly yelled. “Grab her now!” 

With his own saber snapped back along his waist, Anakin quickly fell to his knees, his hands dropping from where they held the wound. Instead, they wrapped around your frame, one underneath your knees. He lifted with ease until you were settled closely into his frame. Obi-Wan continued to run, leading the young padawan through the remaining trail to the ship as the rebels wanted close behind. 

“Master, I don’t know how this happened.” 

“Now’s not the time for that, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied back coldly just as they stumbled along the large grey-wielding spaceship. One the Republic had loaned for this mission alone. As he reached the front panel window, he input the code, and the door of the ship began to fall slowly. 

The two Jedis peered over their shoulders with each passing second, losing their patience. As it finally opened enough to enter, the older Jedi pushed the younger one onboard with the princess weighing down in his arms. Following close behind, the doors shut behind them, wielding them to rush towards the front pit. 

Anakin paused, waiting for further instruction as the princess’s blood began to pool along his armor and robes. Obi-Wan motioned towards the medical bay just down the hall, full of medical assisted robots. “Take her to the med-bay. The 2-1B droids will know what’s best for her.” 

Nodding, the young padawan moved quickly down the corridors of the ship, the sounds of his boots echoing off the metal floor. His blue hues glanced down every once in a while at the face of the woman in his arms. Just as he passed you off onto the medical table and the droids swarmed your still-full frame, he felt the ship rise, jutting upward enough to almost push him to the ground. A sigh of relief fell past the young Jedi’s lips, the contentment to know they would be out of Bakura, finally able to breathe.

He sunk back near the wall of the med bay, unable to look away as the droids pulled at your tunic, trying desperately to get access to the wound. Knowing this was more than what he should see, he stepped out of the med-bay instead finding comfort on the floor of the hall outside of the room. He didn’t dare move, not even as the ship steadied out within the confines of space or when the movements from within the room slowed considerably, some of the robots even leaving the room. He couldn’t and wouldn’t, unable to stall the sudden worry that had befallen him. 

Had he failed the mission? 

Had he failed you, the princess? 

Or rather Obi-Wan? 

He couldn’t stand any of it — not when he had worked so hard, trained his life away, not as he held your frame in his arms, a woman far too beautiful for that kind of ending where a man like him could only hold you in your last moments. 

Why hadn’t the force helped him? Saved you from this. 

It was hours when Obi-Wan had emerged from the pilot pit of the ship. His footsteps were heavy along the long corridors, his robes draping near his ankles. A curious brow was lifted as he found his young padawan sitting outside of the medical bay, his head between his knees, palms digging into his legs. Anakin didn’t even look up as the steps stopped in front of him. He was trying to mediate, trying to will away the fear, the anger, everything forbidden for a Jedi. He was trying to do everything his dear mentor had taught him. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan called out, pulling the young Jedi from his trance. Slowly the blue gaze of the Skywalker peered up to find his master looking down at him expectantly. 

Nodding for him to stand, his young apprentice followed and pulled himself to his feet. Entering the med-bay, Anakin felt to advert his eyes as Obi-Wan led him inside. He was afraid of what he would see, possibly your pale frame void of any pulse. He could sense his Master’s eyes on him, the expectations upon his shoulders at that moment, and though he didn’t wish, he lifted his head slowly. 

There upon the table, you still laid, eyes sealed away behind the confines of your eyelids. White blankets pulled up near your chin over your tunic and torso. Hair strewn behind your head, there was a steady rise of your chest, a rhythmic approach to it that had the young Jedi relieved. 

“She will be fine, my young Padawan. She is alive.” 

Anakin nodded, needing to hear those words more than anything, as he refused to look away then. Refused to peer anywhere than you as he felt like he hadn’t had much time to truly take you in until then. Until the chaos and the horror had passed into nothing but this momentarily passing of peace. 

He had forgotten what it was like to stare so shamelessly at a woman. Attachments were forbidden among Jedis, and thus, he had never taken much consideration of those within the Jedi temple or that he passed upon when he was in contact with the senate. It seemed even as he grew into a young man, he had pushed it all down, avoided it all, amongst the title that he was given of the chosen one. There was no room for weaknesses, for the possibility of failure. Not when this war relied on him. 

He felt his Master’s intense eyes following his, but even then, Anakin couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help as his eyes traced along the delicacies of your face, the way your jaw curved, and the gentle slope of your nose. Nor the concise shape of your brows quirked almost in discomfort or the long lashes that brushed your cheeks with such ease. Your lips were pink, and holding his attention the most.

He spoke then, still not looking away, “I had forgotten. Forgotten what it was like to be around a woman. To be able to look at one.” 

Obi-Wan hummed in interest as Anakin chuckled then, almost painfully. 

“Not since my mother and then Padme. I had forgotten, forgotten just how beautiful they can be.” 

Coruscant. It stared back at you through the window. The mere window of chambers that now were sanctioned to be yours. It was different. The city. The planet. From Bakura, you meant. More metal, more dull, yet more full of life. It was political, far more political than you ever realized, in the form of the Jedi Council, the Republic, the Senate. They all held control at the center of the galaxy, and you could merely stand at that window, fingers tracing the bandage along your abdomen uncertain of everything that lay before you. What to do now in the city of the Jedis?

You had woken up upon that medical bed in a frenzy, gasping for answers, afraid of where exactly you had ended up. Obi-Wan had appeared, and you had felt the tears appear, fall freely at the mere relief, and relinquish the control you could have. Lying there exhausted, you grieved, for your father, for your planet. For it all as it lay abandoned and burned down to nothing but dust. 

As your eyes traced the edges of the Senate building in the form of glass of bendable metal, sitting within the windowsill, you sighed at the sound of a soft knock upon the door. You hadn’t left the room since you had gotten there. After a few seconds without your answer, the door opened, and from outside Obi-Wans’s Padawan poked his head in. You felt his presence before he had opened the door or even knocked. It was almost as if you knew whenever he was hovering, waiting for what to do, waiting to see if you would talk. 

You weren’t sure how but you just did. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you sent a blank expression to him, and knowing it was all he would get, he stepped in without even so much of your permission. Closing the door to a mere crack behind him, you noted the stack of robes within his arms, folded nicely. They were bleak, looked long and comfortable at least, but completely unfamiliar. 

His blue hues matched yours, a comforting quirk within his lips forming, “I—uh brought these for you.”

You matched his stare but without your lips so much as saying anything, you merely quirked a brow up in response. His stature deflated slightly, that quirk disappearign into nothing but a fine line as he bowed his head and placed the robes upon the bed. “Obi-Wan has gone to speak to the council. He will be back very soon with good news I’m sure.”

Not able to bear the look on his face, how sweet he appeared, you turned back to the window, to the city, to the only future you had. Even though you weren't looking at him, it was like you could feel the disappoint flooding his system. So much so, that he turned on his heels, his boots echoing along the floor as he reached for the door. 

You felt your heart ache, your barrier fold in on itself just at the thought of him leaving with that look on his face and the dejection upon his frame. As he reached for the door-knob, you found yourself speaking far before you had even realized you had opened your mouth, “Wait.” 

He paused then, hand dropping from where he had reached for the door. Instead, as he hesitantly turned back to face you, he found you already looking at him, a certain softness now where that coldness once was. There was a gentleness then he hadn’t seen before, even after everything you had been through. 

With your hands laced upon your lap, you fiddled with the skin around your nails, uncertainty still plaguing your mind. Finding his intense gaze, you inhaled, “I wanted to— to thank you…” 

Your voice trailed off and as it did he quickly realized why it had. 

“Anakin,” he answered. 

That softness deepened even further, he noted. 

“Thank you, Anakin, for saving me.” 

He nodded, that dejection resolving back into his chest, instead enjoying how skillfully his name fell from your lips. “The pleasure was all mine. I am glad you are recovered and doing well your highness.” 

You bowed your head then, the title sounding so wrong, so devastating to you then. Enough so that you picked at your nails until one was bleeding. Anakin watched carefully, confused by the action alone as you sat there, lost in the depths of your thoughts. 

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” you finally expressed. 

He rose a brow curiously, stepping closer into the room, silently begging you would look up at him again, “What?”

You smiled sadly, “Call me ‘your highness’ or ‘princess’. I’m far from that now.” 

There was a pause on his end, a moment to take in how sad the princess of Bakura truly was. He knew he shouldn’t question it. Where anyone else would her words, he didn’t, as if understanding you completely then, having been someone himself who had left everything he knew behind. His mother still lay slaved in the very place he had despised completely. 

So instead, he asked innocently, “What shall you have me call you then?”

Surprised by his ask, your eyes flickered up to meet his. There was a certain glint that filled his eyes, that smile of his there, peeking out. His expression had you completely transfixed, content in a way. 

Smiling softly, your hands relaxed along your lap, “Y/N.”

[throughparisallthroughrome]

--- masterlist ---

anakin skywalker

"In Darkness, We Transcend" (series)(ONGOING!)

"Got The Blues Back In Boston" (series)(modern!ani)(ONGOING!)

groupie love

r u mine?

give you my lovin (modern!ani)

the sun and his star (greek god au)

more to come...

[sabictlali]

…no comments

[darth-memes]

[stealingpotatoes]

my only thought when Ahsoka had that hologram playing was "SHE NEEDS TO SHOW THIS TO LUKE NOW"

(commission info // kofi support)

[allthingskenobi]

please, sir, i need 20 more hours of this 🤲🏻

[persorene]

one of the funniest and most in character things ever is Ahsoka mentioning the whole Vader thing once and Anakin defensively going "is that what this is about" and rolling his eyes like "oh my god I went on ONE 20 year rampage and no one can let it go, I'm on my apology tour right now what more do you people want"

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

There they all are. In live action and cartoon form. Glorious.

Most people seem to willfully forget Padmé. I'm not most people.

[biggestsimponhere]

Star wars men you will always be famous, i’m in love with them.

[87000beesinapersonsuit]

got fuckin CHILLS from this scene man. also darth vader is way harder to draw than i thought he’d be goddamn

send me an ask if you want to see a doodle of any sw characters in my style :) i also take commissions

[forever--darling]

the princess of bakura

summary: you are faced with reality finally catching up with you as you are at risk of falling with your planet amidst the clone wars, yet your father the king of bakura refuses to let you stay within the burning city, thus contacting his old-time friend and jedi he was in training with to come and take you from the city.

pairings: anakin skywalker x princess!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone of wars, the start and beginning or rather where it all ended for the princess of bakura but not for y/n.

series masterlist | 00

The fires appeared, reflected from the great towers in waves of orange and red. The very sound of buildings collapsing into fines of dust and ash was the only attention-holder you had from the high floors of the capital. Locked away within a side room, the gold dress pooled in heaps at your feet, as the handmaiden undid the clasps from the tops of your shoulders. The raging sounds of gunfire no longer had the ability to make you react in the form of a jump or to shiver out of fear — it was too normal, too accustomed to this life that had become Bakura. As if there could be any room for it — for the fear, that surely the evil would succumb to and never let go of. 

“Princess we must hurry,” your handmaiden Sora cried, tears welling up within her innocent green pupils. She wasn’t much older than you, in fact maybe no more than a year or two, and yet her life was sealed, sure to never escape the ruin that would become. 

“Why? They’re coming. I’m sure my escape won’t be deemed successful,” you could barely recognize your own voice, so void of hope, of a greater good but rather defeat.  

“We must not say things such as that.” 

“And why not?” you asked, turning to find a pair of tight black pants hanging in her arms, sure to not get caught on anything as if your father was expecting you to run, “It’s not as if they aren’t true.” 

She gave you the piece of garment, and you took it, aware almost as if you could sense that there was something she wasn’t telling you. Rather, was withholding as the intruders marched to the gates of the capital, their sabers and guns fully loaded. Hesitantly, you pulled the garment on just as she offered a long black tunic that was tight around the chest and shoulders, with short sleeves and bracings where the belts would go. She bit down on her lip, and you knew it then. There was something she wasn’t telling you.

“What is it?” 

“It is nothing to be concerned with. We just must hurry, to ensure your safety.” 

“My safety?” You repeated brows furrowed as her innocent face refused to meet yours. “Tell me what it is you know. I ask of it. No, I demand of it. Sora, this is perhaps our last moment in the same room together so please.”

She tried to offer a smile, one of encouragement, as the tunic slipped over your frame and tightened at the back, just like the rest of the corsets you had been wearing since you were no older than thirteen. But it was only sad, her face painted in dried tears as the corners of her lips barely managed to lift.

“The Jedis have come.” 

Hurriedly, the belts were wrapped around your mid-drift and tightened as you waited impatiently, with the sounds of soldiers’ large boots echoing off the floors outside of your room like a steed of chariots. “Go on.” 

“The king will ensure your survival, princess. One of the greatest and his padawan has been sent to ensure your departure will be successful.” 

“Departure? He wishes for me to leave?” you asked, almost in disbelief as her hands dropped from your back. 

The war only got louder, the walls seeming to shake as the fires only grew outside, catching your gaze once again. The screams were inescapable as Bakura burned to the ground. 

“He wishes for you to survive,” she said, tone firm. 

Your fists loosened, falling to your sides in the devastation that you were expected to flee to survive while the rest of your people burned and were killed… their existence sure to mean nothing by the end of the war. The Clone Wars had claimed far too many planets and innocence at that point. An anger, a sense of guilt squelched at your possibility of living while your father, the king, went down with his people, his empire. 

You didn’t wish to be a coward. You didn’t wish to flee, even if with it was the promise of survival. 

It was not fair, yet exactly how the ex-Jedi would deem to have it. 

They had too much hope for their own good, you thought with a permanent furrow in your brow, tucking the long strands of hair back behind your ears and out of the way. Lips pulled into a fine line, you felt the energy and the particles align as if the force itself was speaking to you, to the Jedi blood coarsing within your pulse. 

A Jedi must not have any attachments. 

A Jedi must put others needs before his own. 

A Jedi must not partake in anger, in fear, or aggression. 

You bowed your head then, a series of guilt appearing at the mere thought of the Jedi code that still no doubt laced upon the king of Bakura’s back. 

In that moment, you hated him for that. 

With anger suddenly reverberating within your veins and a huff along your parted lips, you took the long black cloak from Sora and wrapped it around your shoulders, slipping your arms in each sleeve. Taking the hood within your nimble fingers, you pulled it up and onto your head, concealing what you could in case the halls had been invaded already. 

Turning, you shared one last longing glance with the handmaiden, one who had devoted her young life to being a caretaker as well as your source of company. You nodded solemnly, “I thank you for your service to the royal family.”

At that point far aware of the glassiness in her eyes and the loss that had already been stained upon history, you felt the chokeful dread that had a hold of you at that moment. With so much uncertainty, you turned away, fingers grasping the cloak tightly, and left the room. Chambers that once had been yours, but now never would be again.

The brick-tiled floors of the capital’s hallways were flooded with soldiers of Bakura, the most trusted, all dressed in armor, grey and blue helmets concealing their faces, their identities. A simple nod was sent their way as you turned down the spiraling hallway, feeling as if doom was upon you, a slow march to death though you had been told otherwise. The building shook, the walls quaking with despair as you followed the army up and into the main corridors of the capital, separate from the royal family’s chambers. The brick turned to grey stone, white towering walls made of metal, and the windows were all concealed behind large doors of steal. 

You came upon the war room, the place of perpetual decisions, the place you knew he would be the most protected in the capital’s final moments. Pulse quickening, eyes dazed, you felt it again — the frustration, the immense anger — a type you didn’t realize you could ever feel. With narrowed eyes, your hands released around the cloak and up into the air. Waving in the direction of the doors, the doors flung open, slamming loudly. It was almost as if the force was apologetic, leaning into your feelings. 

Sure enough, as you stepped through the threshold, the king stood near the table, a shield of dark grey armor covering every part of him but his face. A face wrinkled in nothing but despair. Silence overcame the bustle of protectors, and suddenly, you found the eyes of the man at his side. 

There he was as if like a savior. 

The Jedi — one of the greatest, and the very man who happened to be your father’s closest confidant. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

A savior with long hair and pale eyes, dressed in tan tunics of his own, his saber held securely at his waist. 

You hadn’t seen the man since you were a mere child, a man who could’ve very well been an uncle to you and a protector at the headway of your mother’s death only a few years before, and yet he stood there a bewildered look on his face as if he had felt it. Felt your anger from a few rooms away. 

The king faced you, a look of grief evident, and regret as he noticed the betrayal upon yours. He didn’t look away from you as he leaned over and spoke to Obi-Wan. “My dear friend, I ask of you to take my daughter. You haven’t much time as the rebels have just managed to break through the front gates. Time can only be in our favor for so long.” 

As Kenobi moved near you, his palm outstretched, you stood your ground, “No!”

“My sweet daughter—”

You shook your head, that tightened expression refusing to let up, “I will not just abandon my people, abandon you, my king.”

It was as if the look he gave you then was one of disappointment rather than pride. As if he had wished to raise you to be a coward. Jedis, don’t run, you thought. Queens don’t leave.  “Father, please.” 

“Y/N—” 

You interrupted again, “I cannot leave you to die.” 

His face fell, the great and powerful king deflating just at the single look on your face — from his greatest love. Sadness swirled within his irises, and though it could have very well been the very last time you would ever look your father in the face, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t grasp his hand or pull him in for one last embrace. You were far too stubborn. Far too angry, then. 

He stepped closer, but you only took a step back because this was a fight you wouldn’t be able to win as time was wading by each moment; it wasn’t something that was in your favor then. He sighed, “I can’t fail you too, my child. I failed your mother, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I lost you too.” 

Your mouth parted, a single tear falling from your cold steel eyes, just as a burst of static filled your ears. The com-system interlocked upon Kenobi’s waist began to illuminate, and loudly, drowning out everything else as a voice propelled through. 

“Master! They are invading. I repeat they are beginning to storm the capital. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold them off.” 

His padawan. 

Obi-Wan, held the side button of the com and lifted it to his face, unable to look away from the sad parting between father and daughter, “Hold your ground, my strong padawan. We’ll be to you in just a few short minutes.” 

As he clipped the com back into place he cleared his throat, “We must go. Time is falling away from our side. Princess…” 

“Father, don’t do this.” It was your final plea.

There was nothing left to say. 

His eyes tore away from yours, and you felt a small part of yourself break then and wither away beneath the confines of your walls. The emotion was gone from his face, weakness shoved away where you could no longer see it. He waved off some of the nearby soldiers to get into position — to be able to escort you and Obi safely to the main entrance. 

A small whimper fell from your parted lips as he looked then at Obi. “You must go now!” 

Obi nodded but hesitated, feet stopping after a few short steps. He turned, peering over his shoulder to share one last final look with the former Jedi. 

“I commend you, my dear friend,” your father wished farewell, his hand lifting up near his face and down as if in a form of respect, “May the force be with you.” 

“And you, my king,” he returned, before approaching you with fast steps, his hand taking a hold of your forearm firmly. 

“No, no, please,” you cried out, trying to fight Obi-Wan as he began to pull you from the room. You tried as the fleeting image of your father across the room is all you would have in departing, his glare somehow hard and cold, “Father!” 

The doors slammed shut in your face, echoing like a final coo of death. You collapsed in the Jedi’s arms, all exertion and passion gone from the confines of your chest. Nothing would remain. 

Peering up, slumped against his figure, the halls were bathed in darkness. The electricity had been cut, yet the alarms remained, loudly echoing, screaming in agony while the light the dark red reflected across your skin — somehow matching the anger and rage that pulsed within your body. A sense of resentment for the king, for this Jedi who pulled you through the halls, leading you away from your death, from your planet, from your former life. 

Bakura was destined to burn that night, to fall, to whither into ashes, and yet its future queen would not. All that remained was anger, frustration, and resentment.

[gil-estel]

anakin does not have a neutral perspective

[that-dumb-dinosaur]

look me in the eye and tell me this isn't one of the coolest shots in any star wars tv episode. and don't even get me started on when his voice overlapped with Vader's-

[stevenrogered]

AHSOKA | 1x05 "Part Five"

[daemonsdarksister]

LOOK AT HIM HE LOOKS THE EXACT SAME AS HE DID 18 YEARS AGO

Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker you will always be loved.

[stealingpotatoes]

there was so much in that episode but like. i'm expected to be normal about the fact ahsoka said luke's rotj line??? and anakin knew it???? i'm expected to be normal?????

(commission info // kofi support!)