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When their scheduled arrival on Dermos took the form of a crash landing, Ahsoka felt perfectly justified in her sour mood.
“Don’t get snippy with me, Snips--”
“I’m just saying, if you had been paying attention--!”
Really, she’d been irritable before they’d even left Coruscant. She didn’t understand why she and Anakin, of all people, had been assigned to negotiate an alliance with the people of Dermos. They had valuable mineral deposits under the surface of the planet that could aid the war effort, and that was all well and good, but why hadn’t Obi-Wan been sent instead? Or literally anyone else? The 501st hadn’t even been eight hours into their leave when the Council called Anakin and Ahsoka in to give them this assignment, and in an instant, all of her plans of a few days of rest and catching up on homework went out the window as she hurriedly packed and crammed the briefing files they’d given her into her brain.
It didn’t help that she thought she’d gotten sick from the food in the refectory. She’d had cramps for the past several hours, and she fully blamed it on the funny-tasting stew she’d eaten before leaving.
The ship wasn’t too badly damaged, thankfully, but they’d have to pick up some spare parts while they were in the capital city. Said capital city was several klicks away in the middle of a dense forest--and it seemed that they would be walking there.
She quit her grumblings about halfway through the journey when Anakin threatened to make her join the youngling meditation classes when they got back to the Temple--he would do it, too. After an hour of walking in the hot, humid forest, he wasn’t particularly happy either, but for once he managed to have more self-control than her.
They made it to the city without incident just before nightfall, where the governor and her entourage welcomed them with open arms. The people of Dermos were exceptionally tall and lanky. They had dark skin and feline-like, yellow eyes, but they smiled warmly as they greeted the pair. Seeing as they had arrived much later than expected, it was decided that the welcoming feast that had been planned would be postponed until tomorrow, and instead, they would be shown to their accommodation for the night.
That was perfectly fine with Ahsoka. She was exhausted, sweaty, her stomach hurt, and all she wanted to do was curl up and sleep.
There was a cold dinner waiting for them when they arrived at the little two-room hut that would be their residence for the next few days, but Ahsoka left it to Anakin to enjoy while she took her shoes off and flopped into bed. She heard her Master snort at her dramatics, but he chose not to lecture her for it, and she was grateful. Soon, she heard him clear the dishes off the table and into the sink, and the lights clicked off as he settled himself into the other bed across the room.
She fell into a fitful sleep, her arms curled protectively around her aching middle, and it wasn’t long before she was jolting awake from a nightmare she couldn’t remember. She sat up, catching her breath while her heart slowed from its hammering pace, and she tried to comfort herself with the familiar sounds of her Master’s snoring.
She shifted on her mattress and suddenly noticed something felt...off. Recognition hit her like a speeder, and she raced for the ‘fresher as quickly and quietly as possible, locking the door and ensconcing herself within.
She looked down and--oh. Oh no.
Suddenly, the cramps and irritability she’d been feeling made perfect, horrible sense. Her leggings were stained red, and with a twinge of embarrassment, she realized the sheets on her bed must have been too.
She had completely forgotten. Normally, she always had supplies on her if she knew this was coming. But everything had been so fast-paced and stressful lately, rushing from her last mission to the next, crash landing and hiking to the city, she hadn’t even thought about it. She’d completely lost track of the time.
“Snips? What’s going on?”
Of course Anakin had woken up. Of course he had woken up, and he wasn’t going to leave her alone, and this really couldn’t get any worse, could it?
“Nothing! Ahsoka rasped, squeezing her eyes shut as if it would somehow help her escape the situation. “Go back to sleep.”
“Don’t try that with me, Ahsoka, I can feel you through the bond–”
“I’m fine!” And then she doubled over as another particularly painful cramp took over.
“Padawan–” and oh no, going from Snips, to Ahsoka, to Padawan was never good, “–so help me, I’ll break down this door—”
And she might just die from embarrassment if he did.
“It’s girl problems!” She exclaimed, and immediately, the concerned mind she had felt over their bond went very, very still. Ahsoka buried her face in her hands as she knew the pieces came together in his head. Doubtlessly, he’d noticed the stain on her sheets by now. Stars, how could she ever look him in the eyes again?
“I’ll be back,” he said suddenly, and then she heard his footsteps retreat from the other side of the door.
Oh, Force. She took a deep breath, fighting back tears that only made her feel worse. Normally she’d try to be better about controlling her emotions, but she was tired, and hormonal, and she’d apparently just freaked her Master out so much he had to leave their rooms to get some air.
Maybe she could just sleep in the bathtub for the night. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but at least she wouldn’t mess anything else up, and she wouldn’t have to face Anakin. Not until the morning, anyway, and she didn’t really know what she’d do then, but surely she could figure something out…
An indeterminate amount of time passed. Ahsoka had settled on the toilet and was so lost in her thoughts of despair, she didn’t even notice when Anakin returned.
“Snips, open the door.”
“Master—” she started to protest, head snapping up from her hands.
“Just a little. I have something for you.”
Hesitantly, she stood, hiding herself behind the door and cracking it open just wide enough for Anakin’s hand to pop through. He had a bundle of fabric, and as soon as she took it, his hand disappeared. She locked the door back in place and inspected what he had just given her.
The cloth unfurled in her hands, revealing itself to be...clothes? Underthings and a set of pajamas, a little long in the limbs, but close enough to her size. Within the bundle of clothing was a small stack of rectangular objects woven out of fibrous material that grew abundantly on this planet, and she could only stare at it in shock.
Anakin...had gotten her pads?
Tentatively, she nudged at their bond, and the wave of caring and concern that flooded over to her brought tears to her eyes. She had to pull herself away, take a deep breath.
Then she took a shower.
By the time she was clean and dressed in her new clothes, she could smell something sweet and earthy coming from the main room. She left her soiled clothes folded in a corner of the 'fresher and, still feeling emotionally and physically tender, she quietly opened the door and inched her way out of the room.
“Go sit down, relax,” Anakin said, sensing her immediately despite his back being turned to her. He was standing at the small kitchenette of their hut making tea, and for a moment in her bewilderment, Ahsoka wanted to ask when her Master had been possessed by Obi-Wan. She was even more surprised to see her bed had been stripped of its soiled linens and hastily remade with the flat sheet from Anakin’s bed and the spare blanket that had been stored in the small wardrobe across the room. She did as he recommended, sitting on her bed and propping her back up against the wall. She grabbed her pillow and hugged it against her chest as the soothing heat from her shower started to wear off and another particularly painful cramp tore through her.
“Here,” she hadn’t even noticed she’d closed her eyes from the pain, but when she opened them again, Anakin was standing in front of her, two mugs of tea in hand. He had one offered to her. “Bayara said this should help with the pain.”
“Bayara…” and suddenly it clicked. The too-long pajamas. The pads. “You went to the governor for period supplies?”
Anakin shrugged, “Well, yeah. The shops aren’t open. And it’s not like we really know anyone else here…”
He said it so plainly, so logically. Suddenly, Ahsoka felt something bubble up from deep within her, and then she was laughing. She leaned forward, squeezing her pillow tighter as her body shook. She could feel tendrils of confusion and concern reaching across their bond, but all she could do was laugh. She laughed until her chest felt tight and her breath came in short gasps, until the pressure inside her built and built and built, and then just as quickly, she was crying.
“She was happy to help Ahsoka, I swear!” her Master said in alarm. He had set down the tea and sat beside her on the bed, flesh hand reaching out to rub small, comforting circles between her shoulder blades. Very aware of the fact that her current behavior was the farthest thing from Jedi possible, she tried to get herself under control.
“That’s it, deep breaths,” he encouraged as she started to settle down. He reached for her mug and offered it once more. She took it with trembling hands, the warmth and steam already serving to relax her. She stole a glance at him before quickly turning away, feeling oddly vulnerable under his compassionate gaze. She bit her lip for a moment before speaking.
“Why are you being so…?”
“So what?”
“So… nice about this?”
Anakin frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ahsoka sipped at her tea carefully for a second, trying to find the words. “I don’t know. The boys at the temple act weird whenever a girl so much as mentions her cycle--”
“They’re teenagers,” Anakin explained. “Teenagers are awkward. Even the Jedi haven’t figured out how to repress that. They’ll grow out of it, eventually."
She mulled over his words, surprised at how sensible they were. Anakin himself wasn't that far removed from his teenage years, and Obi-Wan had joked many a time about his immaturity.
“You’re good at this,” she said, finally, and it was true. He’d gotten her clothes and pads, changed her sheets, made her tea, and despite her earlier fears, he hadn’t once treated her with judgement. “I...I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”
They sat there for a moment, gaze focused out the window opposite. It was dark, only the faint outline of trees really visible, but a few silver stars could be picked out in-between the canopy of silhouetted leaves in the distance. The tea had started to soothe her pains, and Anakin’s hand was still absent-mindedly on her back. She felt warm. Safe.
“My mother,” he said suddenly, still looking ahead. “was the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”
Ahsoka stared at him in a stunned but careful silence, terrified that if she spoke, it would break the fragile trust between them. While she knew Anakin had come to the temple as an older initiate and, therefore likely had memories of his family, he had never spoken about them before. She had never expected him to. This confession had come unbidden, and, deeply aware of the significance of what he was entrusting to her, she hung off every word.
“We lived in a rough part of Tatooine. It was the kind of place where, if parents didn’t have the important conversations with their kids early, they might never get the chance to have them at all. So I learned the facts of life at a young age--I wish you could’ve seen how relieved Obi-Wan was when he found out he didn’t really have to have ‘The Talk’” with me.”
He turned to her then, his face splitting into a grin, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but smile too at the idea of a flustered Obi-Wan.
“She told me that women were burdened with a strength I could never truly know, but should never forget. That the gift of being able to bear life also came with a unique suffering that should be met with compassion and respect. That periods were a normal and natural part of life, and I should never shame them or feel embarrassed by discussing them. If I ever had, I’m sure she would have set me straight quickly.”
Ahsoka huffed out a laugh at the wry admission but quieted when Anakin’s expression turned solemn.
“Her cycles were awful. I didn’t quite realize it until after that talk. I could feel some of her distress each month through the Force, though I didn’t know it was the Force at the time. I could sense that she struggled to get up in the morning during that time, but she always did her best to hide her pain from me--and no matter what, she always got all of her chores done every day. She never complained. Once I understood what she was going through, I wanted to help her. So, I would wake up extra early to finish her chores along with my own, and I would make her tea and go out for supplies if she was running low. She always did so much for me--she deserved to be taken care of, too.”
“What’s her name?” Ahsoka asked. Carefully. Tenderly.
He said the word with unparalleled reverence, like it was the last drop of water in the desert, or the final breath of a dying man.
“Shmi.”
“Shmi,” she repeated quietly, infusing the name with the respect and admiration she felt for the woman who raised her Master to be a good man in such difficult circumstances. “She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She was,” he said, and Ahsoka noted his use of past tense.
He seemed lost in thought for a moment. When he focused again, stare penetrated deep into Ahsoka’s soul, his words dripping with fondness and sincerity. “She would have loved you.”
And Ahsoka felt it. Rolling in waves off of her master was deep trust and affection, the attachment he felt for her but could never truly voice--but also there was a stronger feeling. S omething beyond him, beyond both of their physical existences, intrinsically rooted to the heart of the Force. It enveloped her then, a blanket of peace, gratitude, and love. Ahsoka couldn’t remember much of her mother, but she suddenly knew that this was what it felt like to be the subject of her love.
Thank you, a voice seemed to whisper to her from within the Force, though she’s not sure exactly for what.
“I wish I could have met her,” Ahsoka said, leaning into Anakin’s side, her lek pressing against his shoulder. “But I’m glad that because of her, I have you.”
He pulled her closer, arm wrapping around her and squeezing tightly. He exhaled, and with it came an overwhelming wave of contentment, tinged just slightly bittersweet by grief. He rested his cheek against her montrals, and she closed her eyes, hoping to save this moment in her memory forever.
“Me too, Snips. Me too.”