fools, anakin skywalker (ongoing)

fifteen.

this addition has been edited as of january 22, 2020

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ARTIE BURST INTO THE COURTYARD, INSIDES TWISTED AND HEART THUMPING. SHE LOCKED her stare on Anakin. He stood, shadow growing as the suns sank halfway beneath the flat horizon, with his back to her. Still as a statue, but he had stopped. Waited. Artie took it as an invitation.

"You have to think," she said breathlessly. Her fingers twitched and her mouth was dryer than the desert that swallowed them. "Please. You have to think this through."

"She's not dead," he replied. The wind picked up and fluttered his cape around his legs. "I won't accept that."

"You don't have to," Artie agreed. "You shouldn't have to. But you must have a plan—it's too dangerous to go alone—"

Anakin whipped around, mouth hard. "You're staying here. That's nonnegotiable. I won't put you at risk."

"Consider yourself, then!" Artie cried. "What if I don't want you to get hurt? Doesn't that matter?"

Anakin threw out a hand. "No. Not in the same way. I don't care if I get hurt—I don't care if I die—so long as it means my mother is safe. But I could never live with myself if you suffered for helping me." He took several heated steps towards her. "You cannot be put in harm's way for my sake."

For a moment they stood, staring at each other, the wind whipping at their clothes and hair. Artie kept up her gaze and refused to back down. Maybe she didn't go with him, but she would not let him storm into a Tusken camp blindly. "Aren't you allowed to mean something to me, too?" She caught his face in her hands, perhaps against her better instinct, but she had to make sure he stayed anchored, right there, in that moment. "Can't you do one thing for me, and plan this through?"

Anakin blinked. He tilted his cheek slightly into her touch and seemed to mellow, if only slightly, for the first time since Cliegg's revelation. "Yes," he conceded with a sigh. "Yes, I can do that."

"Thank you," Artie breathed. "Thank you. When . . . when are they weakest? When wouldn't they expect you?"

Anakin moved his gaze from her to the blazing binary sunset, crimson light soaking through his bronze skin and setting his crystal eyes on holy fire. "Twilight. They'll be sleeping and station fewer lookouts."

Artie stroked her hand over the nape of his neck where his hair was soft and cropped. "Then you'll wait?"

He searched her face, still smoldering like glowing embers, but softened despite the urgency Artie knew he felt. "I'll wait." Anakin pushed a piece of golden hair behind Artie's ear, fingers brushing her earrings as he did. He stepped back and Artie lowered her hands. "I need to find out more from Cliegg."

She nodded. "Go. I'll be there in a moment." She offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Anakin's lips curved softly. He turned around and started for the door, cloak billowing in his wake in a melodramatic and, if Artie was honest, slightly gorgeous display. He disappeared inside and she was left alone in the waning evening.

She felt marginally better. At the very least, Anakin wasn't barreling into a Tusken village with nothing but his gumption to guard him. That eased Artie, if only for the moment. What she feared now, however, is what he would find once he infiltrated the camp. Was there hope enough to believe Shmi Skywalker had survived so long in such a place? Did she share her son's resilience? Or was Cliegg right—had she likely died weeks ago? The thought made Artie nauseous with worry.