The Assassin (Anakin Skywalker x Reader) - Medieval AU

4 - Sweetheart

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Word Count: 3.4k

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Anakin POV:

Now that I had accomplished the first part of my goal, which was getting (y/n) to agree to return with me to the castle, I wasn't entirely sure what to do next. Despite my overconfident attitude, I think part of me didn't believe I would make it this far in my little quest.

But I did; meaning I can now rub this in Piett's face and tell him I completed my primary objective with ease, after his incessant protests against my plan.

That may be a slight embellishment of my story, but it's not as if he'll know.

I winced as I stepped back outside from the warmth of the hut into the chilly air. The contrast manifested a painfully evident pang of discomfort near my temporal lobe, the exact spot where (y/n) had pushed the side of my head into the ground more than once.

"I think you gave me a concussion." I mumbled as I used two fingers to massage the upper region of my temple.

She ignored me and kept her gaze focused forwards in the direction of the rest of the camp, towards nothing in particular.

I aligned myself next to her in an attempt to follow her gaze, and it was then that I realized she was only a few inches shorter than me, probably because of the height of her boots. I'm not sure how tall she is without them, but with them she is most definitely taller than any other women I've been acquainted with.

"What are we looking at?" I whispered, squinting as I scanned our surroundings.

Other huts and tents identical to hers were stationed all throughout the territory, and eventually my eyes landed on a woman I didn't recognize. She had brunette hair which was braided over her shoulder, and had a satchel of arrows wrapped around her similar to Ahsoka's. She was standing by a small fire that looked to be consisting of crackling embers, casting a bright blow on the snow surrounding it. I then realized that woman is what (y/n) is looking at.

She once again ignored me. I glanced back at her in confusion, noticing the way she seemed to be anxiously gripping the hilt of her belt, and was pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek in deep thought, like she was making a decision.

I chuckled and jokingly nudged her, "You have a crush on her or something?"

Finally she shot a piercing glare at me, and clearly did not find my comment as amusing as I did. "Just what do you think is going to happen if you keep talking?" She questioned.

"Well," I shrugged, "Communication is key, as they say. So we're going to need to learn to communicate with each other. How am I supposed to get to know you if you won't talk to me?"

(y/n) clenched her jaw in annoyance, and I noticed that the scar next to her eyebrow seemed to enhance her expression much more when she's angry. I have a feeling she's going to be adopting that expression very often because of me.

"Fine." She said. "Here's what you need to know about me; I value my alone time, I like to fight, and I am typically in a bad mood ninety nine percent of the time." She shrugged just as I did. "Now you know me."

I let out a laugh, "Wow, I would never have guessed any of those things about you." I feigned a shocked tone and expression.

"Brat." She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and began to throw her black cloak over her shoulders. "Stay here, I'll be back shortly." She muttered without looking at me, and began ambling towards the woman near the fire.