love & war | anakin skywalker

chapter three

WALK THE SKY

I awoke the next morning with renewed vigour, and eager to leave the misfortunes of the previous day behind. Yes, I turned to the figure in the mirror (which sharpened into focus once I'd wiped the sleep from my eyes), today is a new day. Pulling my robes over my shoulders, I devised a mental itinerary for the day – it went as follows: early-morning meditation; sparring; study in the archives; and anything else Master Kenobi may have planned for me.

I found myself consumed in an endless cycle of smoothing the creases from my robes (each fold I flattened somehow spawned two fresh ones) before pulling my braid out from the under weighty layers of fabric, and leaving my chambers for the day. On my way out, I was surprised to see another figure emerge from the adjacent quarters, and jog, spring-stepped, over to me.

"Thetis, hold on!" it didn't take him long to match my pace. It was Anakin, still a little hazy-eyed from his slumber, but every bit as radiant as the suns of Tatooine. The pearly glow of his skin seemed all the more vibrant, though the crease of his brow suggested something was troubling him.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for my...outburst yesterday," He went on, "I didn't mean to shout, or get mad."

We slowed our pace momentarily to allow time for Anakin to wipe the sleep from his eyes, then bat his dark lashes once or twice, and for me to look archly at him.

"Did Master Kenobi tell you to say that or did you actually want to apologise?"

He contemplated for a moment, before shrugging and yielding to the puckish smirk that had been tugging at the corners of his lips. "A bit of both, I suppose."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful frankness, before assuring him he was completely forgiven. Hearing this, Anakin's thick brows lifted and his lips parted an inch in surprise. I found myself chuckling once more, likening his expression to a bantha caught in the headlights. Realising his perfectly stupid expression, he broke out into a wide grin and shook his head, before explaining his apparent shock with a light-hearted disposition.

"I'm just surprised you forgave me so easily. I thought you might, I don't know, hold a grudge or something."

"What would be the point of that? Besides, I shouldn't have been prying anyway."

For a moment or two, we were embraced by silence. I would've proposed a new branch of conversation, but Anakin's hardened jaw and furrowed brow suggested he had more to say. Allowing him time to think, we walked a few more paces down the temple halls, before he eventually spoke up again.

"I just want people to know the real me, not the version from some ancient prophecy." He sighed, as though he had just relieved himself of a heavy weight.

"Well, perhaps," I proposed, and his gaze flitted up to meet mine, "I could get to know the "real" you in the meditation gardens?"

"Meditation isn't exactly my strong suit."

"It isn't?"

"I mean, I'm not bad at it or anything, it just doesn't come naturally. I do have some talent, though, probably more than most Padawans, if I'm honest." Anakin assured me, with whole-hearted seriousness.

"Why, of course," I nodded slyly, "You clearly have an extraordinary talent for boasting."

That same boyish smirk crept up on him again, and we found ourselves bursting out in laughter as we reached the gardens.

I inhaled the breath of fresh life as we entered, enjoying the views of dense foliage and tranquil, trickling streams. We both tipped our chins upwards as a cluster of mischievous butterflies danced over our heads, watching them circle us a few times before fluttering away. The charm of those sun-drenched chambers never wore off, and I could sense my face form a gleefully stupid gawking expression in awe of it all. Anakin had initially attempted a more grounded facade, but was soon overcome by that dazed look in his dark eyes (the irises themselves were not dark, but the dense lashes that framed them, combined with the sheer weight of his gaze, gave the overall appearance of darkness). He almost toppled over a mound of grass at one point, and any remaining fragments of stoicism were completely lost.