The clinks of expensive china cups against dainty saucers was a familiar sound to you. That, and the trickling of freshly poured tea, jasmine and honey gently wafting to your nose, the push and pull of a spoon in creamy liquid, and a hushed conversation that carried with it a sense of nonchalant impressiveness. Homely, even— if that had been something you liked about your own home.
You hadn't— less to do about the tea parties themselves, with surprisingly delicious tea (that is, if you managed to sneak an extra sugarcube), and those pretty lace dresses and hair ribbons, but because of the company.
As soon as you turned 10, your mother began forcing you to attend these weekly socialite business gatherings. You were only there to sit still and look pretty, the future face of your father's medical legacy. He was one of the most renowned doctors and scientists in the galaxy, and you, with your special training ever since birth and natural knack for anything anatomical, were to one day take over. But all those tea parties as a child, sitting next to your mother like a trophy, never permitted to contribute anything yourself as dozens of strange women and men talked about you, your future, and your future business... Now, it didn't surprise you why the gentle clink of silver against porcelain reminded you of emptiness and boredom, frustration and fear, and the life you had left behind on Noxella.
Fortunately, this company was anything but that. Tori was humming quietly to herself, another tune she learned on the hills of the agriculture planet she was raised on as she touched the stalks of flowers and helped them bloom. She wasn't partial to tea, or any food for that matter due to the chloroplasts in her blood that fed off the sunlight and tinted her skin a slight green, but she mixed the tea politely and took a couple sips.
Vera and Freya, sisters who resembled sea nymphs with their blue skin and black hair and impossibly long, willowy limbs, bickered over who would get the last sugar cube. Their skin shimmered like the blingy minidresses they were wearing, Vera in purple and Freya in blue, like the scales of a fish. The people from their planet shared similar features, except the twins had been blessed with extraordinary features and soon rose to fame by modeling on billboards and television. Often for the pink-haired girl sitting to their left, who's clothing line has been the most popular in the galaxy for the last three consecutive years.
Celesta. She chucked a pastry at Freya, bumping off her silken mane and raining crumbs everywhere. Her high, quick voice told them to "cut it out", and then she was brushing food off the skirts off of her elaborately sewn gown. The frills and laces on this particular dress resembled the pastry she had weaponized, but you were used to her bold style. She was a born artist, expressing herself in her clothes, the impossible makeup she could do with the flick of a wrist, and the bob of hair that was always dyed a hot pink.
Sabè giggled at the interaction, bringing her cup up to her lips to hide the smile. "You could always split the cube," she offered after she swallowed, ever the diplomat. As a Representative of Naboo, she looked and acted like her superior and current Senator of Naboo, Padmè Amidala. Sometimes it freaked you out how similar they were, even more so than Freya and Vera, with the way they held themselves. The only difference was that Sabè was a little more relaxed than Padmè, a little younger and a little bolder with her actions.
Padmè, on the other hand, still held the poise of a Queen despite leaving that position behind a few years ago. Even now, she held her teacup and saucer in her lap, soft honey eyes gracing around the room with joy. She was happy— for the time off, for being able to spend some much needed time with her friends, for the good tea. Padmè was always the sweetest one of the group, the kind that everyone could rely on, almost like a mother. She was, in fact, the one who had brought you in when you arrived on Coruscant, arguing with the Intergalactic Medical Association for your certifications to be reinstated after they were cancelled when you left Noxella. Because of that, you were able to get a job in the temple medbay where you spend your days patching up victims of the Clone Wars, working towards a field license so that you could go on missions with the battalions and offer your skills on the battlefield. You were only a couple months away from that license, and it was all because of her.
You would be nothing without her.
You'd be nothing without all of them, quite frankly. As your eyes flit around the room, you thought about how grateful you were to have them in your life. It seemed that they swooped in and saved you when you were at your lowest— lost and confused, with nowhere to go and no money to your name. No friends, no family, no home. All you had was the clothes on your back, the smoking starship you had barely managed to land on Coruscant, now with one engine and a scrapped wing, and a past full of pain.
And then Padmè found you trying to barter your broken starship for some money, heard you tell the shopkeeper your last name, and took an immense interest. She sat you down, bought you some food, and listened to your story. And for some reason that you would never know, she decided she wanted you in her life.
They all did.
One by one, you were introduced to this amazing circle of powerful women. You weren't famous or extraordinarily beautiful or well-known like them, not in a good way at least. But they accepted you for all your flaws and treated you like the family you never had.
"As I was saying," Celesta brought your attention back to the topic you all had been arguing over for the past hour. "Boys are disgusting and you will never catch me shoving my life away for one. No, no, no. Not me."
"Easy for you to say," Freya bit. "You're a lesbian."
"Am not!"
"Are to!"
"And so what if I was?" She angrily ripped the edge of a savone off with her teeth. "Why would that matter?"
"I'm just saying you're biased. If you think boys are gross, ok. But I think they can be pretty damn fine when they wanna be."
"Um, have you ever had a 10 minute conversation with a boy?"
"Oh, chew your sandwich and shut up. Maybe the ones you're talking to are terrible, but not all of them are."
"I disagree," Vera held up a finger. "Celesta has a point—"
"You just wanna argue with everything I say!"
"No, I genuinely disagree! All the guys I've ever been with just want me for my body."
"You're a model, Vera, everyone wants you for your body."
"You are too!"
"Well I'm talking to someone right now, and he says he can see a future with me. Like, marriage and babies and shit."
"Is he a boy?"
"He's a man."
"Okay, there's my point exactly," Celesta pointed her savone at Freya, who flinched back like she might throw it again. "Boys are gross, but men can be fine. Sometimes. If you're lucky."
"What the hell is the difference?"
"Age. Maturity," Sabè joined innocently. "But anyway, do we really have to keep going on about this? It's been hours."
"I think it's entertaining." You said the words with a sly smile, stirring your tea absentmindedly. Celesta rolled her eyes, but Freya leaned toward you excitedly.
"Okay! So what do you think? You haven't given us your opinion yet, and if I remember correctly, you had a few flames back on Noxella."
"Who told you that?! I held hands with a boy, like, once. And I was seven— hardly a 'flame'".
"Damn. I really thought you could back me up here. Padmè?"
Her eyebrows shot up as the attention suddenly turned to her. "Me?"
"Yeah, you can settle this. Should we all become lesbians, like Celesta suggests, or should we stop stigmatizing all men?"
"I'm not suggesting we all become lesbians," Celesta grumbled.
"Listen," Padmè's voice was like a soothing balm over the tense room. "The galaxy is full and wide with billions and billions of men, and women, and beings in between. You can never explicitly say one is better than the other, not by clumping them together in a single category like that."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying— and I think we all already know this, but we're arguing for argument's sake— that some men are better than others. It doesn't mean all men are bad, or good, or anything. You look at the person as a whole because their sex doesn't inherently decide their nature."
You picked up on the hint of annoyance in her tone, the conversation not exactly the most exciting to her. But maybe she did that to hide her own bias...
"She's on their side," Celesta moaned dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. "The betrayal— how could you, Padmè?"
"What? I didn't say anything—"
"I should have known. You've had the most sweethearts out of everyone."
The room really did tense up at that. Padmè did have sweethearts, and not just any sweetheart—
Anakin Skywalker.
No one could forget possibly the biggest scandal to grace this group of friends. The way Padmè snuck around with a man behind everyone's backs, not just any man, a Jedi. And then Tori figured it out and confided in the rest, and they all made it known to Padmè, who forced them all to keep it a secret. Who were they to deny her? She was young, and in love, and she knew the risks it had on her own career. They all just wanted their friend to be happy.
But they didn't last. The details were murky to you, as the crash and burn of their relationship was only discussed in hushed whispers for fear of upsetting the Nabooian Senator. But they broke up, her and her Jedi lover, and she was a complete mess afterward. Thankfully, she had her friends to help her back onto her feet in the weeks after.
It had been seven months since the breakup, and Padmè was doing infinitely better. The topic was still a sore subject, though.
"Let's table this discussion for when we're drunk," you attempt to lighten the mood. "I think it'll be a much more interesting argument then."
"Good idea," Vera nodded. "We can make a game out of it. And then I can beat the crap out of whoever's wrong."
"You with your chicken arms?" Freya teased.
"We have the same arms!"
"It'll have to be this weekend," Padmè chimed in, and everyone seemed to let out a breath of relief. She wasn't mad. "I've got a new bill to draft in the coming month, so this is the last free weekend I'll have in a while. We should go to the Core."
"Padmè Amidala wants to come to the Core with us? The sky must be falling in!" Celesta's dramatics continued.
"I'll wear a wig and you can do my makeup. Make it a sort of disguise. I need a night off."
You watched her sip on her tea, honestly surprised yourself at her willingness to party. Clubs weren't really her thing, and she had never joined you guys on a night out before. You couldn't deny you were excited to have her with you this time though.
"We can pregame at my place," you suggested, already making a mental list of the liquor you'd have to stock up on. "It's closest to the Core, like a 5 minute walk I'm pretty sure."
"It's a plan," Sabè cemented. Habitually, your eyes flicked to the watch on your wrist. The sun would go down soon, and you didn't really want to make the trek back to your apartment in the dark. You knew it was bad tea party etiquette, but you excused yourself, thanked Padmè for having you, and grabbed your coat at the door of Padmè's bougie senatorial apartment complex. There was a chorus of goodbye's, and then you were walking out into the hallway, breathing a sigh of satisfaction as you took the stairs down.
You loved your friends with everything in you. But your social battery was running out, and you knew it would only be a matter of time before you sunk into yourself and started getting snappy like you usually did when you were tired and cranky. A bad habit of yours, but you couldn't help it other than remove yourself when you could feel yourself getting tired.
As you walked the streets of Coruscant back home, you couldn't help but notice the commotion as you neared the Jedi Temple. There were a few ships in the sky— not uncommon, due to the ongoing war— but there were more than usual, and you could clearly make out a certain yellow Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor curving a graceful arch toward the starfighter bay among the glow of the setting sun.
The Chosen One had returned. Certainly a cause for celebration, here on Coruscant— the capital of the galaxy and center for the Republic's war effort. He had been gone for months, winning battle after battle on the front lines of the war. He was a hero to the citizens of, well, everywhere that was a part of the Republic, but especially here on Coruscant. You could barely walk two steps without seeing his face on a poster, poised with his trademark blue lightsaber, a burning fury in his eyes as he fought off the Confederate droid army.
Almost instinctively, your feet changed their direction and headed for the Jedi temple. You told yourself it was to check up on your boss, Rico, in the medbay, who often forgets to lock the doors when he closed up, but you secretly hoped you'd catch a glimpse of the returning Jedi.
He was your friend, too, after all.
It was difficult to push your way past the crowds of gathering citizens, Senators, and Jedi at the front of the Jedi Temple. Reporters were all screaming questions, and children ran around with action figures. You flashed your badge at security, and they paved you a way through, dropping you off in the great hall of the temple. The hallways were empty, as everyone was congregating on the landing platform now to intercept the returnees, but you knew they would start making their way to the medbay soon. There were always a few clones that needed to be fixed up, and even though you had the night off, you weren't opposed to offering a helping hand.
You were right. As soon as you rounded the corner to the medbay, you found the eagerly-awaited group of Jedi. Your heart jumped in your throat, always excited to see them.
"Obi-Wan! Anakin!" You exclaimed, running up to meet them with a big smile. Your face faltered when you noticed who Anakin was holding— Ahsoka, his Padawan, was clinging to him just barely able to stand on her own. Rico was already taking the young Togruta from him, but she was waving them both off.
"I'm fine—" she growled, baring her sharp teeth, although she was clutching her side quite severely. "Get your grubby hands off me, the both of you. I've had worse."
"Ahsoka, what happened?" You swooped in and smacked Rico's hands off of her. He hissed and promised to take it off your paycheck, but you didn't care. He always said stuff like that.
"Y/n, thank the Maker," she sighed in relief, allowing you to hold her up and start leading her into the medbay. "I'm fine, just got in a bit of a tousle with General Grievous."
"General Grievous?!"
"You're lucky I was there to save you," Obi-Wan sassed from behind you two, following close behind with Anakin too. "A pleasure to see you by the way, Y/n."
You turned your head to smile at him in response, and caught sight of Anakin. He didn't look happy— instead his focus was entirely on Ahsoka, looking like he was itching to carry her himself. His eyes were full of worry, and anger, and... guilt.
"I should have been there," he mumbled.
"You were busy chasing after Count Dooku," Ahsoka argued. "Please, Anakin, don't blame yourself for this. I was the reckless one this time."
"I'm supposed to protect you."
"You're supposed to teach me. I can protect myself."
"Stubborn and reckless, both of you are. Now let's move along and make sure your Padawan isn't about to join the Force."
"Not funny, Obi-Wan," Anakin hissed.
You made it to your office and helped Ahsoka sit on the table. She did so with a wince, though she was trying really hard to hide it. Anakin and Obi-Wan crossed their arms by the door, a stressful, suffocating presence behind you. To make it worse, Rico was right by your side.
"Alright, I need space," you could already feel the headache forming, with so many people breathing down your neck.
"You're not clocked in," Rico reminded you, always a stickler for rules.
"You don't have to pay me for this."
He mumbled an 'alright' and then left, knowing you were perfectly capable of handling this yourself. You breathed a sigh of relief and then moved to the sink to wash your hands, nodding with your head to the seats by the wall.
"You two can sit down, though I'm sure this won't take long."
Obi-Wan took you up on the offer, but Anakin gravitated to Ahsoka. You took your place beside him and reached for the hem of her shirt, asking if you could lift it before drawing the material to her ribs. Immediately, you could make out the charred, blistering skin. A lightsaber wound, hot enough to cauterize any bleeding but leaving behind a nasty burn.
"You got lucky," you noted, having her hold her shirt up as you began to dab at the skin with a gauze pad covered in bacta. "Any deeper, and he would have cut your ribs in half, then your liver, gallbladder, large intestine, small intestine..." you droned, following the long slash down the left side of her body.
"You were always good at comforting people, did you know that?" Ahsoka asked sarcastically. "Besides, I had it under control."
"Holding four of Grievous's lightsabers at bay with your single blade, on your back and trapped in a corner of his ship, hardly sounds like 'having it under control,'" Obi-Wan retorted. Anakin stiffened beside you.
"Don't listen to him, I was fine!"
"A simple thank you would suffice."
"Hey, I think it's pretty impressive that you took him on and only came out with a single scratch," you offered her a cocky smile, which she returned.
"Yeah, well, don't go making a habit out of it."
Anakin's voice was deep and coated in stress. You could see Ahsoka rolling her eyes as you grabbed another roll gauze, preparing to wrap it around her abdomen.
"You could have a little more faith in me, Master."
"We'll discuss this further when you've rested."
The demand was final, and you chewed on your lip as you focused on bandaging Ahsoka up. You had known Anakin for a while now, as he made frequent visits to the medbay. Not usually for himself, but to bring people in, or check up on them. His clones, his friends, random citizens he had saved, and sometimes his Jedi companions. He was friendly and struck up conversation easily with you, and you found you looked forward to his visits. Especially when Obi-Wan and Ahsoka joined him. You had even secretly hoped that when you got field-certified, you'd be assigned to their team.
However, you had never really seen him in a bad mood like this. Sure, he only ever saw you when his friends were injured, but it was never anything life-threatening. Now, you guessed, was different. His Padawan had been hurt, and he had been gone for three long months, and he was probably stressed and beyond exhausted. His anger leached off of him in waves, and you weren't quite sure how to react.
"Oh, calm down, Anakin," Obi-Wan swooped to the rescue, still unbothered in his seat by the wall. "You forget, you used to be in her position not too long ago."
You could see Anakin's jaw twitch, unable to say anything in return. He was right.
"Hopefully this won't scar too bad," you turned the attention back to Ahsoka's wound. "It doesn't look infected, but if it starts to swell, ooze, or become really painful, come back here immediately. Or if you get a fever, that's also a bad sign. You should change the dressings and apply more bacta every day, but it should heal up in a couple weeks. Take a day or two off to rest, though."
"Thank you, Y/n," Ahsoka told you genuinely. Her blue eyes were always so kind, and big, and sparkly. She sat up and pulled her shirt down, hiding the evidence of her encounter with General Grievous. "I'm sure I'll be better in no time."
"You're on strict bed rest until further notice," Anakin's voice was concrete over the both of yours.
"Master—"
"No arguing. You do as I say."
"Y/n, Obi-Wan, do something!"
"I can't argue with that," you shrugged apologetically, busying yourself with packaging her pain meds.
"Not my Padawan," Obi-Wan picked at his cuticles.
Ahsoka growled frustratedly, glaring at the both of you with murder behind her eyes. "I'll remember this."
There was more bickering as you sealed off the pain meds, the white bag crinkling as you gathered some more gauze and a bottle of bacta to go with it. You handed it to Ahsoka and dropped a lollipop in her open palm for good measure.
"Oh, quit it. I'm not four," she threw it back at you.
"You're acting like it," you teased.
"Careful, or I'll have to show you the true power of the Jedi."
"Yeah? You and your charred liver?"
"Oh, you—"
Obi-Wan let out a long, suffering sigh and rubbed his forehead with his hand. You pat Ahsoka on the shoulder and left to go wash your hands again.
"You're all set to go," you let her know, but she was already sliding her way off the table and smacking Anakin's hands away. You grinned and added, "Have fun with your bed-rest."
"Count your days," she jabbed a finger at you, giving into Anakin's advances and letting him support her weight with a hand around her waist. Obi-Wan stood and went to open the door for them. You caught sight of a flash of silver in the air, and your hands immediately shot out to catch it.
"Oh, you don't have to pay me," you shook your head, reaching out to Anakin to give the credit back that he flicked at you. He was already turned towards the door though, occupied with Ahsoka in his hold.
"Keep it, please. Your service is always appreciated, Y/n."
It was a surprisingly genuine thing to say to you, especially amid his bad mood. Your chest warmed from the praise, a little too-flattered, but no one had to know that. Anakin was, undeniably, a very attractive Jedi. The prettiest man you'd ever seen, if you were being honest, but of course you never voiced that aloud. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have the tiniest crush on him, but really, who wouldn't? He was strong, handsome, charming, and a hero. It was only natural to like him.
The only difference for you was that Anakin was strictly off limits. No one said so explicitly, but it was a rule that went unsaid after everything that happened with Padmè. Not to mention, he was a Jedi and not supposed to have relationships with anyone.
There was no harm in dreaming, though.
Smoothing your thumb over the engravings on the silver credit, you pocketed the money and saw the trio out. You left the medbay yourself, after cleaning your station and saying goodnight to Rico. By now, the sun had gone down which is exactly what you wanted to avoid, but seeing Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Anakin made it all worth it.
There was a bounce in your step as you hurried home. You and your friends had plans for the weekend, your favorite Jedi were back, and they were most likely here to stay for a while. Everything was perfect.