***THIS VERSION IS OUTDATED. SEE THE ADAPTED AND IMPROVED VERSION ON MY PROFILE***
There are few stories that are told among the Jedi Order long enough to become myth. Legend. It takes importance to stand the test of time that way. A lesson has to b...
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As Anakin and Palpatine begin their work together, Circe spends her days avoiding the Council members and trying to rest as much as possible. She feels uneasy in the Temple now, surrounded by the stone that once made her feel safer than anywhere else in the galaxy. Where she used to find solace, only distrust and confusion exists now.
She avoids Obi-Wan's gaze when he tries to talk to her in the halls, she skirts corners to avoid bumping into Plo-Koon and Mace Windu. When they pass her, she breathes a sigh of relief, but the lingering feeling of betrayal follows her.
These are her teachers. Her friends. Windu sends droids to check on her often, and Obi-Wan leaves her dinner outside her door when he knows she skipped the meal to avoid the crowded dining hall. These people care for her. And Anakin, the only one she really cares about, has been gone.
He is busy, able-bodied and healthy enough to continue work for the Order. Every time he takes off on a ship, anxiety washes over her and smothers even the lingering symptoms of the poison that cracked through her veins. She is not there to protect him anymore. She trains as often as she can, swings her lightsaber around in her hand when she's thinking, or reading, or trying to fall asleep. But she can't join him on his missions yet and something has spooked him since they returned to Coruscant.
When he does see her, she can tell that he's nervous to touch her, as though she might break in his hands. He's quiet, complacent, agreeable. All the confidence that she once loved in him has vanished, his arrogance and quick wittiness following close behind. He is different now, and it is her fault. She was the one that made him go with her to find Phaedris. He told her not to, that it was dangerous, and she didn't listen.
And now he can't even look at her anymore.
He has become hardened. Sometimes he snaps at her when she asks after his days in the city. He tells her to mind her business, to focus on recovering.
"Since when has my business become different than yours?" She had asked, pulling away from him.
"Since you dove straight into danger and nearly died because of it," He spat back.
She had felt a burn in the back of her throat, still sore from Kesis. He had never spoken to her that way. Not even when they were arguing on the way to Ahch-To. Not years ago, when she had told Obi-Wan that she didn't think they were ready to be Knighted yet. Not even when she had come home drunk to the Temple at sixteen years old, screaming at him, desperate and frightened of the war she had given her life to.
She had pushed him into a wall, scratched at his face as he tried to calm her down. He told her that no matter what, they would be together. That even if the war dragged on for another million years, they would never go through it alone. That boy was not the same as the one in front of her.
"Why won't you talk to me?" She asked, "Why are you shutting me out!"
"Circe!" He had balled his fists, "Why don't you trust me? Do you doubt me? Like everyone else here does?"
