Star Wars the Clone Wars - One shots

Thawed

Anakin didn't say anything as he opened the door of their quarters.

He didn't have to.

Ahsoka knew what he was thinking purely based on his stance and the expression on his face.

She couldn't feel him through the Force. Anakin had his shields up so tight that she couldn't even touch them.

He only did that if he was hurt or full of rage. He'd once explained that it was to protect her from feeling the onslaught of his own amplified emotions.

He wasn't injured this time, he was just angry.

Only hours ago, Ahsoka's ship landed on Coruscant after her experience with Lux Bonteri and the Death Watch on Carlac.

She'd gone to the Halls of Healing first. Her broken skin was now covered in bacta patches and her filthy, tattered clothes had been replaced with the standard white shirt and long trousers that the Healers gave out.

After her trip to the Halls, Ahsoka had to speak to the Council. They weren't exactly pleased with her, but their punishments seemed mild compared to their usual sentences. She was grounded to the Temple for the next fortnight and had to help in youngling classes.

Those consequences were tolerable. She was feeling slightly more apprehensive about what her Master would have to say about her little vacation.

Anakin stood to the side, pointing towards the couch.

Resisting a sigh, Ahsoka walked over to it.

She should've expected it. That specific piece of furniture was usually where all of his lectures took place.

His glare burned into her skin as she let her heavy body fall onto the sofa, hiding a wince as her sore back touched the cushions.

Anakin stalked towards her, his features even more menacing in the dim light.

He came to a halt in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet shoulder-width apart.

Ahsoka swallowed, unsure if she should attempt to apologise or just keep her mouth shut until he addressed her first.

Both were risky options.

It was painful to meet his eyes, but Ahsoka knew that he was especially patronising about eye contact during these types of conversations.

"Did medical clear you?"

She blinked, surprised at his choice of opening statement.

"Y-Yeah," she rubbed her sweaty palms on her white trousers, feeling somewhat vulnerable without her typical uniform on.

"What were your injuries?"

Maybe she had overthought this. Maybe he wasn't as mad as she thought he would be. Maybe he was just worried, and not angry.

"Some lacerations on my legs," she said, remembering the initial sting as the ice and rocks scraped against her flesh. The cold had quickly made it go numb. "And cable burns on my stomach and back. Only one bruised rib."

"Cable burns?" He repeated, a question.

She nodded once.

"Explain."

The edge in his voice was a natural warning. She wouldn't be able to lie to him- he would know if she was telling him the truth or not.

"When the Death Watch realised I was a Jedi, that was how they took me back to camp."

Anakin was a smart man. He could identify strategic errors faster than any Admiral or tactical droid. He had aced his Knighthood exams, despite his claims that he wasn't book-smart.