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━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━
ARAMINTA had learnt to hate her scars less and less overtime. It was an inevitable part of the life she led– from the moment she had found blood in the snow to the present day where she slept with a knife within reach. She wore the worst one of all on her right shoulder, a lump of scar tissue to symbolise what she had done to survive.
She was branded like a weapon. No matter who she worked for, it would always be apparent where she had come from. Some days, it felt okay, to know she had survived and the scars meant she had been strong enough. Other days, she wished she could tear them off her skin, take back the childhood that had been stolen from her. But what was done, was done. Ruminating on a past she could not take back would only ruin her.
Some of Octavian's lessons were useful. Others had given her more scars at twenty-one than any veteran should have.
Obi-wan had become gentler since their extended mission with Satine. The assassin couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something had shifted. True to her word, they had not discussed what was said on the Coronet again, and the only other person alive who knew was Anakin, who had also ceased gossiping about it. Araminta still saw Daesha in ways she wished she didn't, but for the most part, things were normal.
"Normal," Octavian would scoff at her.
Araminta would stay quiet. Anything was better than the normal she had lived at the facility.
But it wasn't without its excitement. A knock on her door in the middle of the day was unusual, and always cause for concern without a call or brief sent ahead. Araminta paused, paintbrush hovering above the paper. Anakin wasn't supposed to be back quite yet– he had been assigned to teach young clones for the day.
She got to her feet cautiously, setting the brush aside. Padme's flowers, her subject for the day, sat on the windowsill. With a hand hovering over the handle of her knife, Araminta opened the door.
"Ahsoka?" she said in confusion. The padawan very rarely bothered her outside of work.
"Araminta," she said urgently. "It's Anakin."
The assassin tried to keep her expression even at the news, but couldn't help her eyes widening. "What happened?"
"An assault on the frigate," Ahsoka said quickly. "The ship went down–"
"Where is he?" Araminta cut in.
"Here," Ahsoka murmured. "He's safe. Me and Master Plo rescued him and Master Windu from the wreck." Araminta's face shifted at the events she had been excluded from. "There wasn't time to retrieve everyone," Ahoka said quickly at her expression.
Araminta nodded. "Is he in the infirmary?" she questioned.
"Yes, but–"
Araminta ignored the padawan and moved past her, Ahsoka's eyes widening at the gesture.
