Imagine the Star Wars [The Rewrites]

sanctuary. [anakin x reader]

With your hand on the back of his neck, he looks down. "Maybe not," he agrees. Then, he returns his gaze to you. "But we can escape it for a little while."

That much has been true for some time now. That idea is what started your relationship, gave you a sanctuary, and stilled your anxious mind in times of stress. As the war wages on, you need that escape more and more. You need Anakin. He needs you. You can't change the code on your own, but you can't change the way the two of you are either.

He leans in until his lips are against yours, moving with the slow and steady earnestness of a stream of fresh water. It doesn't change that outside of this room you're a Jedi Master now with new responsibilities and new scrutinies forced on you. But his mouth trailing to the pulse point of your neck erases all of that for a while. You hold him against you with a sigh, letting him whisper praises to you and wash away your fear. This is what you will always return to. After wars. After peace. When worlds end, this is where you'll be.

If anyone notices you leaving Anakin's quarters in the morning, they don't say anything. Outside that room, you never give any indication that anything is amiss. That used to be simple when you could blend easily into the background. You're used to being just another Jedi, one of thousands.

Now, it's all different. Now, you're a Master, one of only a few dozen.

It's something like a blessing and something like a curse that you're assigned to teach the younglings. Master Yoda has become too burdened by the war effort to oversee their training any longer, and you can only guess that's why you were made a Master so unexpectedly, to begin with.

It's a blessing because you're left in relative peace with the younglings (if herding children can be called peace). But children are perceptive, even more so than grown Jedi at times. Even though they say nothing, they openly stare at you with wide, curious eyes. They couldn't possibly sense your thoughts or feelings. They're not advanced enough for that yet. And yet... you know that somehow they know that you are different from other Jedi.

"How?" Anakin questions one night. You're curled into his side, arm draped over his broad chest. The tips of his fingers brush over your spine, making you shiver. "How would younglings know anything about us?"

You shrug. "They can sense it, I imagine," you sigh. "Don't you remember being a child and just knowing things inexplicably?"

At this, Anakin goes quiet. He stills his fingers at the base of your neck. It feels like an age before he finally speaks. "Yes... My—My mother used to call it the old magic. She didn't know much about the Jedi then. She was the one who discovered I had it after I got into a fight with Kitster over a game. I told her that I... I didn't know why, but I just knew he was cheating."

You have to fight to keep the smile off your face. "So, you hit him?"

"Well," Anakin says as he grins wickedly. "Kicked him. Where it would hurt."

Now, you do smile. However disapproving you ought to be, it's a rare gift to be able to hear about Anakin's past. He speaks so little about it. "What happened?" you press.

Anakin takes a deep breath before continuing. "She already suspected I was different, but she only chose to tell me about her suspicions then. And she told me to keep my... my powers a secret, especially from Watto. No one else could be trusted with that knowledge except for her." At this, his voice goes quiet. Barely audible. "She was the only one who was safe."

The traces of heartbreak lingering in his voice makes you ache for him. The loss of his mother will always be something you struggle to understand. You don't even remember your parents, and any words of comfort always seem to fall short. Instead, you smooth your hand over his chest once, hoping to fit any words you might speak into touch.