When You Come Home

-18-

"The concussion is healing well," the nurse informed Anakin politely. "You are on track to be discharged in two days."

"Thanks, Rasa," he said tiredly. He didn't miss her slight frown at his use of her name, but it wasn't hard considering she did that every time. He didn't know if it was offensive to call a Mandalorian by the name on their badge or not, but the doctors and nurses always seemed astonished when he did. He had tried asking one of them once — a young intern named Lora — but she had blushed and mumbled something about "the former duchess." As that had seemed the end of the conversation, Anakin hadn't pushed her for any more. But there was something strange about this whole place that made Anakin frown. Perhaps it was just the hospital staff, but it seemed to have an awful lot to do with said "former duchess."

As Anakin sneaked from his ward for his self-appointed daily walk, he ventured down one of the busier hallways, keeping his eyes down and ears alert. He had come to recognise most of his nurses' footsteps, so he knew who to avoid. He had been getting more adventurous in his wanderings, exploring simply for the joy of it – and in case something should catch his interest. Plus, it stopped him from going insane. If there was one thing he hated more than doing nothing, it was sleeping with nothing to distract him in the morning.

Anakin padded down the halls, the polished floors cold against his bare feet. His army clothes had been ditched in favour of the loose medical tunic and pants, and Anakin was always shivering from the cold. Unless he stayed in his overheated ward. Then he felt the right temperature. But where was the fun in staying?

His fingers trailed along the spotless, dustless walls as he nosed around the corner of a much larger hallway. Identifiable by the number of passing doctors and patients and the busy professional buzz in the air, this was the main hall from which originated examination rooms, corridors to other branches, and hospital wards. He had never ventured this far before. But as he had never yet been caught, he might as well push his chances a little more. Besides, a rush of adrenaline was good for the brain, wasn't it?

Anakin left the relative safety of the main hall, stepping into the spacious circle with large glass doors, a rounded reception desk, and a tall metal statue in the centre. The hot afternoon sunlight flooded in from three sides, coming through glass walls punctuated with metal beams. A glass balcony ran around in a ring as part of the second story. Anakin marvelled at the bottom's of people's shoes as he walked underneath. He shuddered at the thought that it could break at any moment.

Warily glancing at the kindly old receptionist, he kept going forwards with the confidence of someone who knew where he was going. He did know where he was going. He also knew where he came from, but no one had specifically denied him authorisation to leave his ward.

Anakin walked around the statue — one of a young woman with one arm draped across her stomach and the other hand dangling at her chin — before stopping in front of it. The artist had captured her as she stood, leaning slightly backwards, with her weight on one hip, and with an amused interest in her eye. Her lips twisted in a soft smirk that spoke of determination and yet compassion. Her long hair had been fashioned by a skilled stylist into an elaborate rose braid that complimented the formal gown covering her delicate frame. She was stiff and yet graceful, calm and yet attentive, brave and yet gentle. She was a duchess. She was Satine Kryze.

"Duchess Satine Kryze," Anakin read from the inscription on the plaque. "This statue was erected by the metalsmith Tal Merrik in honour of Satine Kryze for her generous donation towards the foundation of this hospital."

He took a moment to gaze at the graceful beauty, wondering what Mandalore had been like under her rule. Obviously, she had been generous and compassionate, pouring funds into a hospital. She had come to the throne young, so she must have lacked experience. Even so, she seemed to have gained a lot of respect from the civilians, if it really was her abdication that had caused this strange spell to fall over the people. Or perhaps it was the manner of Bo-Katan's rule that affected them. Frankly, though, Anakin didn't care: he was here to protect the people, not fall in love with them. He had left his heart behind in Coruscant, even if the brown-haired angel didn't remember about his existence.