Work Text:
Skritch-skritch-skritch
“Stop that.” Anakin said without looking up from his datapad. He was almost caught up with his mission reports, for once in his life, and didn’t want to lose focus right before he finished.
Skritch-skritch-skritch
“Stop, padawan, I won’t tell you again.” He glanced over to where said padawan was curled up on the end of the couch. Her arms were folded over her chest, radiating irritation over their bond, and was barely paying attention to the nature program playing on the holonet. Anakin sighed, turning back to his work and tried to finish up the edits as fast as he could.
After the complete disaster of the Geonosis mission, the Council had given the pair some much-needed time off. He was looking forward to spending time in-Temple with Ahsoka (and with Padme anywhere but the Temple). If he could just get this work out of the way, then he’d be able to relax.
Skritch-skritch-skritch
“Ahsoka!” He scolded, getting up from his desk and letting his displeasure be felt through their link.
The teenage togruta shrunk back a bit, but her irritation didn’t wane. Anakin exhaled his frustration into the Force and kept any exasperation behind his shields.
Part of the reason they’d been given leave in the first place was that Ahsoka had been severely hurt, not once but twice. After getting caught in the explosion of the droid factory and buried under tons of rubble, she’d only just gotten out of a bacta tank only to be stuck on a ship infested with mind-corrupting parasites. While largely recovered, her lekku had suffered the worst of it; both Kix and the Temple healers had put her on enforced rest until they were healed.
This was undoubtedly the source of his student’s foul mood since they’d gotten back to their shared apartment earlier in the day. Her head tails were hyper-sensitive thanks to the sheer density of nerves present, which could be as much of an advantage as it was debilitating.
Bruised montrals were affecting her balance, making her dizzy if she moved too fast, so she could forget about saber training. Jedi weren’t sedentary by nature, younger ones particularly prone to restlessness. When so much of your life was spent training and being attuned to your body, injury could be incredibly disorienting.
If that wasn’t enough, the combination of dust from Geonosis and frostbite from the medical frigate had completely dried out her lekku. The skin was flaking, peeling, even cracking near the top of her montrals where she’d started a growth spurt.
So he couldn’t exactly blame her for being cranky.
Abandoning the reports for now, he flicked off the holonet and plopped down next to her on the couch. At first, she didn’t move, knees defensively pulled up to her chest.
Anakin raised an eyebrow, lightly prodding at her shields.
/WARMTH-SAFE/
She stared him down a moment longer before relenting, uncurling and scooting over to lean into his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful not to brush against her back lek.
“I know it’s bugging you, Snips, but you can’t scratch at them. You’ll just make them bleed and then it’s going to take even longer to heal.”
She grumped, twisting her hands together in her lap, digging her nails into her palms to stop herself.
/HURT-FRUSTRATION-EXPOSED/
Anakin reached over and clasped both of her hands in his.
“Don’t. Take a breath, try to find your center for me.”
She shook her head slowly. “Hurts too much.”
/PEACE-PATIENCE/ He projected.
“When did we apply the salve last?”
She glanced over at the chrono.
“Six hours ago.”
He sat up sharply and looked down at her. “Six?!”
“Ish.”
“Snips, the healers said every four hours. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “You were busy. Didn’t wanna bug you.”
Anakin suppressed a sigh, releasing frustration yet again. This was normally something he’d chastise her for; they’d had multiple long conversations about accepting help from one another and how relying on each other was what a Master and Padawan were supposed to do. It wasn’t burdensome or a sign of weakness.
But at the moment, she looked too miserable for him to say anything. After freezing to death, it was like she couldn’t get warm enough: bundled up in long sleeved sleep clothes, thick socks, and one of his cloaks that she’d ‘borrowed’. She couldn’t wear her akul tooth headdress or her padawan braid until her lekku were healed, yet another thing out of place. Their bond had been muddied all day, annoyance and discomfort swirling around her like a small funnel cloud. She looked sad and uncomfortable and it was killing him that he couldn’t do anything to fix this.
Well, there was something he could do, and that would have to be enough for now.
“You’re my padawan, it’s your job to bug me. Pretty sure it’s in the Code too, right alongside obedience and discipline.”
“Explains a lot about you and Master Obi-Wan.”
“Hey!” He protested, but he was glad to hear a bit of her sass returning. “Fine, maybe it’s not in the Code but it’s definitely a lineage tradition.”
She tilted her head to one side, glancing up at him.
“Lineage? Like our lineage?”
“Absolutely. We’ve got a long, sacred history of bothering people.” She giggled, prompting him to pull away so he could face her fully and gesture with melodramatic flourish.
“For example, your great-grandmaster was a true maverick, challenging the Council at every term. There was no mandate Qui-Gon couldn’t interpret creatively, no technicalities he couldn’t spot. Obi-Wan told me that he used to ‘adopt’ random creatures on almost every mission they went on.”
“Isn’t that how you joined the Jedi?”
Her comment made him stop short, glaring at her briefly, but he continued.
“As for Dooku, you know I don’t really consider him part of our line anymore. But he was your Grandmaster’s Master’s Master. So I’m including him and his talent of bothering the entire damn galaxy.”
That earned him another laugh, a belly laugh that he hadn’t heard since before Geonosis.
“And so, padawan mine, you have the freedom– nay! –the duty to be stunningly, spectacularly bothersome.” He reached out and tapped under her chin to make sure she was listening. “Especially when it’s about something you need, okay?”
The stripes on her lekku flushed dark.
/UNDERSTAND-SORRY/
“Okay, Master.”
“Excellent! You sit, I’ll go get the salve.” He said, pointing to a spot in front of the couch before disappearing into his bedroom.
Ahsoka slipped off the couch and settled on the floor, moving slowly to prevent the nausea from coming back.
She wasn’t trying to be difficult; the nerves in her lekku were overtaxed and constantly feeling pins and needles all over her head was starting to wear on her. She knew Anakin only wanted to help and despite being human, she trusted him with her montrals. Since she was a child, she’d known that her lekku affected everything, but knowing something and coping with it were two very different things.
Less than a minute later, her Master returned and climbed onto the couch to sit behind her, starting a familiar ritual. The salve, infused with healing herbs, was usually applied weekly. And when they could afford to take the time, Anakin offered to do it for her, treating it almost like a meditation exercise.
But this time was different. He’d brought more than just the salve.
“Master Obi-Wan’s hairbrush?” Ahsoka asked, eyeing it with a mix of curiosity and contempt. She was far too familiar with one of the brush’s alternative uses and definitely wasn’t eager to refresh her memory. “Why do you need that?”
“Just trust me, Snips, I’ve got an idea.” Anakin said. It was a common phrase of his and was rarely as reassuring as he intended.
Ahsoka faced forward and tried not to fidget as he unwrapped the cloak she was buried in, replacing it with a towel that he draped over her shoulders and carefully tucked under her center lek.
“Alright. Keep still and tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”
“Skyguy, what-” Ahsoka’s question died as she registered the soft bristles of the brush coming to rest at the top of her montrals. He kept it there for a moment, waiting to see if she reacted.
Then, with only the slightest amount of pressure, he pulled the brush down her lekku in a long, smooth stroke.
“How was that?”
“Um, alright, I guess. Feels kinda weird.”
“But it doesn’t hurt at all?”
“Not really, but I still don’t understand.”
Anakin answered by smoothing the brush over her left lek a few times, slightly overlapping the strokes. She could hear him set the brush down before his hand appeared in her periphery, beckoning.
Still confused, she let him take her hand and guide it to rest on her lek, fingers hesitantly skimming over its surface.
“Woah.” She said, a spark of her usual energy lighting up their bond.
“Better?”
“Yeah, how’d you do that?”
He let go of her hand and retrieved the brush, tapping it lightly on her shoulder.
“Thought this might be able to get rid of all that peeling skin that’s driving you crazy. Stop the itching, help the salve sink in a little better.”
She looked back with a mischievous grin. “Much better use for that thing.”
He rolled his eyes, starting to work on the valley between her montrals.
“Keep mouthing off, see what happens.” He scolded, though there wasn’t much weight behind it. (Still enough that Ahsoka knew not to push his buttons any further.)
Once Anakin had brushed over her lekku a few times, he switched the towel back out for the cloak and reached for the salve. Shaak Ti had been making it for the other Togrutan Jedi, even those in the Agricorp. But after Ahsoka had offered some to Aayla Secura on their return trip from Maridun, word spread to other species of Jedi, so she’d given the recipe to the temple healers.
To Ahsoka, it smelled like home. Home, meaning Shili, but also the Temple. The healing herbs might be native to her birthplace, but the medicinal, faintly spicy smell also reminded her of Master Obi-Wan’s favorite tea and the incense that filled Master Yoda’s quarters with wisps of fragrant smoke.
And it reminded her of Anakin. Of the waves of green, soothing energy that would cascade through their bond when he did this for her.
Synchronizing their breaths, Master and Padawan sank into the Force as one. Anakin smoothed the balm over her battered montrals as they pushed and pulled energy across the contact point. He gently worked it into the cracked skin, sensing which nerves were wound tight and easing the Force around each one, coaxing them to loosen up.
Ahsoka exhaled, something between a sigh and a sob, and for a moment he was worried that he’d tweaked something. But then the young Jedi slumped forward, chin touching her chest while the ache and pressure flooded out of her into the ether.
/Don’t fall asleep on me, Snips./ He teased.
/TRUST-JOY-DRIFT/ emenanted from Ahsoka’s signature as she continued to sink deeper and deeper, finally able to relax for the first time in days.
Anakin let her, using their bond as a tether to keep her from going too far down. For Jedi, the Force was like water. You could survive without it for a time, but eventually the need would be all-consuming. Force suppressants were nothing short of torture, a slow descent into isolation and madness.
And few things were more restoring than immersing in it completely, letting it flow over and through you, washing away every bit of stagnant energy.
Once he finished checking carefully for any open wounds from her scratching, Anakin moved to crouch at his padawan’s side, hand resting lightly on her knee.
“Hey kiddo.” He murmured, nudging her through their bond. “Time to come back.”
/WHY-SAFE-GRUMPY/
He shook his head ruefully; even deep in meditation, she was still as stubborn as ever.
“I know, but it’s time to get some sleep. C’mon back to me Snips, I’ve got you.” He said, tugging her end of the link firmly until she finally latched on.
/CALM-CARE-SAFE/
As she began to surface from the trance, he dimmed the lights in their common room. Ahsoka took a heavy breath, blinking her eyes open and struggling to clear her vision.
“How’re you feeling?”
She hummed. “Fuzzy.”
Anakin raised an eyebrow. “Good fuzzy?”
She nodded clumsily. “Why can’we do that all the time?”
The Knight chuckled. “Because it wears you out, little one. Not always practical.”
She pouted, looking just like she did in the holo Master Plo had given him of her as a crecheling. Not that she knew the holo even existed, since he’d definitely never hear the end of it.
“Okay, okay.” He conceded. “We’ll start doing deeper meditations more often, but you’ll need to practice some exercises so you won’t feel so drained afterwards. Deal?”
Ahsoka stuck out her hand with a grin. “Deal!” She said, even as her eyes were starting to glaze over again.
Anakin clasped her outstretched hand, quickly pulling her up and into his arms.
“Masterrrrr. Lemme walk.”
“No can do, kiddo.”
“Why not?”
He couldn’t help but laugh again, he’d forgotten how silly she could be when she actually let her guard down fully. Defenses necessary for a soldier, but hard for a teenager to keep up as long as had to.
“Because I want you to actually make it to your bed, Snips.”
She huffed, but relented just as quickly as she objected, resting her head against his shoulder.
“Thanks Master.” She said with a sigh, giving up the fight against sleep.
Anakin smiled, relishing in the sense of peace that settled over the apartment as he tucked his padawan into bed. Not for the first time, and if he was lucky, certainly not the last time.