Chapter Text
Anakin's gaze traveled across the windows and doors of the room, one by one, tense and alert. The muffled sounds of battle raging outside the palace were fraying his nerves, especially because he couldn’t be part of it. Instead, he had been left to wait in the throne room, standing awkwardly. He wasn’t meant to wait. He should be out there tearing droids apart alongside his squadron.
Not that he had a choice. Right now, he was supposed to wait, even if it made him feel completely useless. He exhaled sharply, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. A small part of him even hoped one of the great doors would suddenly burst open and Count Dooku himself would storm in. At least then, something would happen. The mere idea of Dooku entering Va-Ghun’s palace unannounced was enough to make him place a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, ready to draw and defend.
But the Sith Lord wasn’t on the planet.
Maybe. Probably not.
So the odds of an all-out duel in the middle of the royal palace were slim. If he was being honest with himself, it was unlikely he’d have to fight at all in the next few days. The Council had made that perfectly clear– they wanted him to draw as little attention as possible during his stay on Va-Ghun.
"Don’t cause trouble, Skywalker."
"The senators have asked for utmost discretion, Skywalker."
"No one must know you were on Va-Ghun, Skywalker."
"You’re the best Jedi the Order has ever had, Skywalker."
Boring. One of the most boring missions he could’ve been given.
Leaving the battlefield, and his entire squadron, just to head to a planet for the sole purpose of rescuing a princess? What was the council thinking? Why wasn't he asked to mobilize the 501st to stop the invasion in the first place? Anakin really didn't understand the point of the mission.
He had been waiting for at least forty-five minutes when one of the doors finally opened, drawing his attention. But it wasn’t Dooku who entered. It was a girl, dressed entirely in white, her face partially veiled. Anakin recognized the attire– she had to be one of the royal handmaidens. He’d seen them once before at a diplomatic event on Coruscant. At least four of them had trailed behind the senator from Va-Ghun, who also happened to be the Queen, and, as he later found out, your mother. At the time, Anakin hadn’t even known the Queen of Va-Ghun had a daughter.
Truth be told, that very morning, Anakin knew next to nothing about Va-Ghun's royalty.
He exhaled again, this time with a mix of relief and mild irritation. He hated waiting.
Despite walking toward him with steady steps and speaking in a composed tone, the handmaiden seemed somewhat disgruntled. Not surprising, Anakin thought, considering the circumstances.
“General, please come with me.”
He nodded silently, and she immediately turned on her heel, leading him down the palace corridors. He already knew she was taking him to the princess’s quarters, a member of the Royal Guard had told him earlier. When Anakin landed on the planet, maybe two hours ago, a guard had met him immediately and escorted him into the palace. "Infiltrated" might be a more accurate word.
Anakin wasn't surprised at how well organized they were when the guard reported him about the military situation. What did surprise him was that he was, as well as everybody else, acting as if getting the princess off the planet was the most urgent thing.
“Our forces are more than capable of containing the invasion, General. The integrity of Her Highness is of far greater concern to me,” the guard had said when Anakin –politely– questioned his sense of priorities.
During the ride to the palace, Anakin had realized that the man wasn’t just any guard, he was the princess’s personal escort. And that, at least, explained his behavior.
Anakin was fairly certain the handmaiden was guiding him through the more deserted parts of the palace, and he had the distinct impression it had something to do with the repeated “No one must know you were on Va-Ghun.” Still, that didn’t stop him from feeling slightly dizzy after so many winding, seemingly pointless turns.
The palace was nice, Anakin thought. Rather sober. Or maybe just outright gloomy. It was nothing like the bright and elegant palace of Naboo. This one was darker, with towering columns and marble floors that echoed with every step. Then again, he figured, maybe the gloom was simply due to the areas they were passing through. Because the moment they reached the corridor that led to the princess’s quarters, everything became slightly warmer.
The handmaiden opened the wooden door at the end of the hallway and stepped aside, allowing Anakin to enter first. Once inside, he heard the door close behind him before the girl briskly walked past, leading him deeper into the room.
He quickly realized they weren’t alone. Three other handmaidens, dressed identically, were talking quietly among themselves. They all looked just as uneasy as the one who had escorted him, except for one, who seemed particularly shaken. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the veil of the woman standing with her back to him.
“It’s all right. I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll take care of myself.”
Anakin heard your voice, calm and gentle, as you took the maid’s hands in yours to stop her. Even without seeing your face, he could tell you were trying to comfort the girl, who looked moments away from tears.
“Your Highness,” said the handmaiden who had escorted him, her voice drawing both your attention and that of the others in the room. “The Jedi Knight is here.”
The room fell still. All the women turned to look at him– but Anakin’s gaze was fixed on you.
Even with your face hidden behind a veil, it was clear who you were. Yours was different: darker, heavier, edged with silver embroidery and topped with a small crown. You were the only one dressed differently, and Anakin had no trouble recognizing you.
He greeted everyone with a nod and a polite smile, letting his gaze pass over all the women in the room, but it returned to you immediately.
“General Skywalker,” you acknowledged, back straight, hands clasped behind you.
He thought he heard a smile in your voice.
“Your Highness,” he replied simply, offering no more than protocol demanded.
Anakin didn’t even know your name. Of course, you knew his. He was quite famous across the galaxy. But something about you knowing him when he had no idea who you were put him on edge. It only added to his irritation with the whole mission. He didn’t care about your title, or the mystery surrounding your identity. The secrecy around you –cherished by your parents, guarded by the Council– seemed pointless. Annoying.
One of your handmaidens handed you a change of clothes, and without hesitation, you began to remove your elaborate gown right there in front of him.
For a moment, Anakin didn’t register what was happening. It took him far longer than it should have to avert his gaze.
No one else in the room reacted. Not your companions, not even you. It was as if modesty held no value here.
At least you turned your back before removing the top layer of your dress, but the image of the curve of your bare spine burned itself into his memory.
Anakin clenched his jaw. It wasn’t the nudity. He’d seen bodies before. It was the nonchalance, the quiet authority in how you moved, as though this wasn’t a rescue mission but a throne room, and you were the one in control.
He wondered if shame was simply not a concept on Va-Ghun. Or if you were just the exception. Either way, it was strange. All of this was strange.
Did everyone get the chance to see the princess nearly naked, or was he just the lucky one? Anakin had to suppress an irritated exhale.
It seemed ridiculous that, after making him wait for almost an hour, he also had to wait while you changed clothes. As if you couldn't have been ready before he arrived.
He heard you clear your throat and finally lifted his gaze from the floor.
You were staring straight at him, with those wide eyes, entirely unbothered. You were no longer the woman wrapped in jewels and layers of fabric. There was nothing in your plain clothing that spoke of royalty, except perhaps the brooch on your chest– some sort of royal emblem, Anakin assumed.
You looked more human now, with your face uncovered and your hair falling over your shoulders.
“May I look at you now?” he asked, his voice neutral but laced with an ironic edge he couldn’t quite suppress.
“You already are,” you replied, your gaze curious, intense. It made him uncomfortable. Exposed.
“Is it customary here to change in front of guests?”
“You’re not a guest.”
Anakin frowned, likely more annoyed by your words than he should’ve been. You gave a slight signal to your handmaidens, who were finishing the final touches on your clothing. They stepped away from you.
Anakin straightened his back.
“Are you ready, Your Highness?”
You watched him for a second, probably catching the irritation in his voice. And then you smiled.
“I am,” you said, taking a few steps toward him, holding his gaze. “Are you?”
He stepped aside and gestured toward the door without answering.
As he followed you out, something inside him tensed even more. He had the feeling the return trip was going to be unbearable with you by his side.