On the Wings of Valkyrie

Chapter LIV

"Hey, Anakin?"

"Humm?" the Jedi asked, eyes briefly glancing up from the droid he was working on to show he was listening.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it like, to have a vision?"

Anakin fumbled the tool he was working with before catching it before it clattered on the table. Upon snagging it from the air, he purposefully set it down to the side where it wouldn't be getting into trouble while they discussed the topic.

"You don't have to answer, I mean—"

"No, Luna, it's alright. I'd be curious myself if I were in your shoes," he told her with a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat as he turned away from his work bench to face her. "Usually, they start distant, like nothing more than a couple of intense feelings that slowly form into a bigger picture."

"Interesting. Is that how it always works?"

"No," the Jedi responded, looking away as he distractedly ran his fingers across the droid's dome. "Sometimes they just appear one night in full color, no precursors whatsoever."

"....Sorry for bringing them up," Luna muttered, coming to sit beside him, leaning her head against his arm—the teen hated to act clingy, regardless of how much she found herself enjoying the unusual influx of human contact, but she felt as though it was one of the better ways to reinforce certain unsaid messages. That and the idea of a certain touch starved Sith convinced her to try to initiate such things more often despite the fact it was all rather alien to her.

She felt Anakin's arm snake around her waist to draw her into a side hug.

"We'll stop it," Luna stated, looking up at him with a forced smile to hide her worry. She knew it'd get past him—perhaps stated lies wouldn't, but she was a master of the lies of body language and expressions, the double meanings of a smile. "I know how it happens, and it won't this time."

"Right," the Jedi agreed, though he didn't look all that certain, staring off into space. He sighed once before shaking himself out of the mood. "It's almost time for dinner. We should be getting home."

"I suppose so," Luna agreed as they stood, half ignoring the term he used as she ducked out from his embrace. Of course Anakin Skywalker called Padmé's apartment home—what else was there, the Temple?

As if.

Didn't mean the apartment was hers—not that she wasn't used to such things. Home was almost an abstract concept to her, though she'd like to hope it wouldn't remain so despite the way reality often worked against her.

The speeder ride was short as always and just about as eventful—as in maybe a total of two near misses when it came to collisions with other airborne vehicles. Perhaps it would have jangled Luna's nerves if someone else had been flying, but it was Anakin Skywalker—likely the most legendary pilot of the Jedi and later Sith—so she didn't much mind or care as the likelihood he crash in a setting such as this was rather null. It just made the ride more thrilling, like a roller coaster.

Luna did like her roller coasters, though she had been on so very few.

"I really do need to teach you how to fly some time soon," Anakin muttered half to himself as he pulled the speeder up to the landing deck.

"No. We've had this conversation," Luna responded, ever unyielding in that particular matter. She wouldn't trust herself behind the wheel of a car, or golf cart for that matter, let alone something that flew.