Bookworm

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Ahsoka was nine when she first approached Jocasta Nu, asking for something fiction.

All she had read in the temple were educational texts and autobiographies. She was getting tired of the same old war heroes, diplomats, and political figures bombarding her literature. She would likely enjoy reading if the subjects weren't so boring.

Master Nu had smiled when the girl had asked for something... different. At the time, Ahsoka didn't really even know what she wanted herself. But there had to be something else she could try, right? Something far less boring. The older woman had guided her to a far corner of the library where two towering shelves sat on either side of her, hundreds of texts to be explored. Ahsoka hoped one of these would be a little more interesting. Selecting a light blue cover, dusting it off slightly, and handing the book over the Ahsoka, Master Nu spoke. "I think this one should suit you nicely."

The cover read "Wonder" In hand-done letters.

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On and on the reading obsession went. Ahsoka plowed through at least a book weekly as a youngling, less when she was deployed as a Padawan, but sometimes it was what she needed on hard campaigns. Master Nu always had another book prepared whenever Ahsoka came to the archives.

Anakin knew that Ahsoka read, at least, he saw her with a book that wasn't a textbook once in a while. At the mess, maybe reading to fall asleep, but as the war grew worse, all he ever found her doing was reading. Reading her life away instead of studying, training, there were plenty of times he could swear she lost sleep over books. It was starting to get on his nerves. She couldn't take care of herself at this rate! He finally approached her when she had come in after a class, carrying a book, somehow not tripping on anything to her way to her bedroom.

"Ahsoka," He called. "Put down the book and c'mere."

She perked, her head flicking upwards to look at her master, dutifully doing as she was told and stuffing a sticky note in her page. "What's up Master?" She asked, somewhat warily.

Anakin was standing, making their ground somewhat equal (well, as equal as it got with Ahsoka being at least a head shorter than him), and she felt it necessary to come a little closer to where he was in the living room. "You're a little obsessed with books."

Ahsoka chuckled. "I'm... Aware. What's your point?"

"My point is that I feel like they're distracting you. I've found you reading when you should be sleeping, one too many times, not to mention you could be doing much more productive things with your time." Anakin crossed his arms, none too kindly. He wasn't angry per say, but he wasn't happy either.

Ahsoka wrapped her arms around her middle. "You're saying you don't want me to read?"

He sighed. "What I'm saying is that you're reading when you could be doing much better things. What's even the point? It's just some dumb fiction." (You are a dead man, Anakin, you are such a dead man)

Ahsoka, not only embarrassed, sad, and confused, was now fuming. "Some dumb fiction?" She spat, hoping to avoid yelling. "Just some dumb fiction? Well let me tell you, Mr. Perfect, not everyone has their life together, and sometimes they don't want to be in this world! Sometimes I just want to be a teenager and not a soldier, so I read my so called 'dumb fiction'. I'm reading when I should be sleeping because I'm afraid of nightmares. I read instead of studying because I've packed so much information into my head I feel like I'm going to explode, and it's all I can do to keep from crying. I keep my nose in a book because sometimes I just want to kriffing forget!"

Well, staying calm was out of the question.

Ahsoka's fists were balled up by her sides now, her lekku turning shades darker than they should be, and Anakin was both saddened, and simultaneously proud of his Padawan for standing up for herself. "That... Makes a lot of sense," He answered quietly.

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