fools, anakin skywalker (ongoing)

twenty-eight.

        

there's a steamy surprise at the end for those who stick around *wink wink*

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

LYSANDER AND ARTIE CAUGHT UP WITH ANAKIN and the queen, close enough now that Artie could hear what they were talking about. She was still reeling from Lysander's apology, mind fogged by confusion and old grief, but being near Anakin gave her some comfort. Once they were in sight of the queen, Lysander took the back of Artie's neck and steered her ahead of him as they walked.

          "Have you considered my offer at all, Skywalker?" the queen purred. Her arm was looped through Anakin's and Artie thought he ought to do better at shooing her away. "I will free your companions should you behave, and join me. Alternatively, Kenobi and your captain remain enslaved, and Adhara returns to Tatooine with Lysander. Others would not give you such mild conditions."

          Anakin was quiet for several moments.

          "It's not an easy decision," he said finally. Artie rolled her eyes; the act was getting old.

          "Your hesitance indicates deep selfishness. You are a Jedi, no? Your feelings should come after the wellbeing of others, or so they say."

          Anakin risked a glance back at Artie. She had no smile to offer him.

          "You're right," he said slowly, and nothing else.

          Things went deathly silent again, nothing but the chattering of the planet's hidden fauna to fill the air. Lysander's grip was beginning to hurt, and the atmosphere's wicked humidity was suffocating. Unfortunately, there seemed to end in sight to this purgatory they'd found themselves in. There was still no hint of where they were keeping Obi-Wan and Rex. Artie had no doubt that Lysander would take her back to Tatooine, despite all his promises to leave her alone if she escaped. The condition was her fair escape and if they didn't pull it off, despite Lysander's absurd faith in Anakin's devotion to her, she'd be waking up under twin suns in no time at all.

          A new voice broke the silence.

          "My queen!" cried a male Zygerrian as he rounded the corner. "My queen, I bring word. Count Dooku is on his way."

          Artie blinked as cold, fresh fear flooded her. She'd never been able to shake the terror Dooku struck in her, never able to forget how easily he put down Anakin, Obi-Wan, and herself on Geonosis. Yes, they were all stronger now, and Anakin had confronted Dooku a handful of times since and escaped with his life, but to Artie that meant nothing. Dooku had become a new devil in her dreams and there was no liberation from that, even in her waking hours.

          And now he had come calling on Zygerria. Perhaps he and Lysander could sit down to tea and discuss all the ways they'd made Artie a nervous wreck.

          The queen's lip curled with distaste. "Sooner than anticipated," she murmured. "All right. Make preparations for his arrival."

          The servant bowed deeply and dashed off the way he came. Anakin disentangled himself from the queen and regarded her with mild vindication in his face.

          "So," he began, "I see even you have a master."

          The queen turned on him with a hiss. "Dooku is not my master! I think it's best if you do not attend this meeting." She approached him again, clawed fingers outheld by his hip. Amber eyes on his lightsaber. "Can I trust you not to run away?"