fools, anakin skywalker (ongoing)

eleven.

this addition has been edited as of january 11, 2020

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"HE SAID WHAT?" THE DELIGHT IN PADMÉ'S VOICE was unmistakable and for some reason grated Artie. She didn't want her conjuring up fatuous fantasies about . . . well, about what, exactly?

"I don't know what you're so excited for," Artie said as she crossed the floor of her sanctioned room and dropped her bag in the closet. "All Anakin said was that he'd recognize me in a disguise. But he's a Jedi, that's not—"

Padmé brushed her off. "It's not what he said, it's how he said it," she insisted from her seat on Artie's bed. She leaned forward on both hands, eyelids drooping, brows arching. "How did he sound? Was there longing? Yearning? Could you hear his heart thrumming with the rush of undeniable attraction—"

Artie clamped her hands over her ears, so embarrassed she could scream. "You're mad, do you hear me? This is what happens when you read too many romance datapads—"

"Or that means I'm an expert!" Padmé cried, seeming to grow more thrilled the redder Artie went. "Really, Artie, just indulge me for a second—my job can be so tedious."

"Then go use your expertise for yourself," Artie said, scowling. Padmé only laughed.

"Oh, yes, like I have the time for that. No, this is much more interesting. Now please, tell me how he looked. How were his eyes?"

"Normal," Artie huffed. "Normal eyes." Normal. Imploring. Piercing. She gave herself a shake.

Padmé groaned in frustration and collapsed on her back. "Don't you see? Don't you see what he was trying to say?"

Artie waved her arms wide. "No!"

Padmé groaned again. "Yes, he was saying he'd recognize you in a disguise, but not from being a Jedi! He'd recognize you because of all the time he spends looking at you. He was two steps away from outright calling you beautiful."

Artie hid her face in her arms. "Then why not say all of it outright?"

"Because he's a silly boy, Artie."

"He's a Jedi—"

"A boy," Padmé said clearly.

Artie let her arms fall. She stood in the middle of the room, ignoring Padmé's pointed looks, her chest hammering. But why? Wasn't Padmé out of line? Her claims preposterous? Anakin was a dedicated Jedi on the brink of knighthood and rigid Masters watching him from all sides. Why would he ever tempt fate by toying with some apprentice?

But Artie's pounding chest remembered his words on the freighter docks: I'll do all my devoting when we get back. Remembered how he had so proudly called her sweetheart, something Artie had quickly written off as a product of misplaced arrogance but now cautiously reconsidered to be an attempt at . . . flirting? And it had gone over her head? She tried to reason with herself. She was exhausted and caught up in a ridiculous, made-up scenario. There was a Code and despite any jokes, Anakin would never break it, and especially not for her. Artie was practically a stranger to him—diverting from the Order because of her would be a testimony to insanity, not affection.