YOUR EYES HAUNT ME

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He is a weapon; a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.

—Madeline Miller

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Melanie stares, mind far away, as she waits for the turbolift to take her to the place she wants to go.

She watches vacantly as the blinking numbers of the sci-fi box descend down to the Temple Archives floor.

She is heading down to the Archives to—

She frowns, blinking blearily in confusion.

What was she planning on doing? She can't remember.

She is yanked back to reality as a muffled explosion echoes out somewhere above.

She yelps, clinging to the metal wall as the turbolift shudders; the lights flickering in warning, before—finally—the sci-fi lift screeches to a stop.

She flinches at the scraping sound of the automatic doors sliding open.

Outside, only the yawning expanse of darkness remains.

But that doesn't make any sense. It was bright daylight only a few minutes ago.

The light can't have just—just vanished.

Right?

A terrible sinking feeling twists in her stomach.

Melanie swallows, ignoring the growing dread in her bones as she shakily steps out into the wide darkness of the hall.

She glances to the right, spotting the open doors of the Jedi Archives.

She makes to take a step towards the large doors—

But then, she freezes at the muffled bangs that echo behind her.

Is that—?

Another muffled bang cuts her spiraling thoughts off, the sounds of the surge of noise growing closer and closer.

She snaps her head back towards the left, gazing down the darkened hallway.

A cacophony of angry shouts have begun traveling down the passage, bouncing off the walls and over towards her ears.

Blaster fire, she thinks wildly, blood beginning to pound in her veins.

And then, some kind of insanity seizes her.

Her footsteps echo eerily off the wide stone walls as she steps toward the left archway, following the lingering sounds of muffled screams that are being cut off mid-sentence, staring down into the blackness ahead.

"Are you here to help us?"

Melanie flinches, whipping around to face the voice that just spoke up behind her.

There, gathered all around her, are the cowering forms of Jedi younglings. They all gaze up at her, the brown of their robes barely seeming to fit over their small shoulders.

And there, in the very front, stands the familiar young face of Reva Sevander.

Reva gazes up at her with wide, pleading eyes, her body trembling in fear as another explosion sounds out somewhere outside the massive stone walls of the Temple.

Melanie blinks rapidly, staring down at the children around her, mouth agape in growing bewilderment.

Distantly, on some offhanded level, she registers the sound of the blaster fire growing closer.

Her blood continues to pound in her ears, staring down at the future Third Sister of the Inquisitors.

We thought he was there to help us. a familiar, agonized voice echoes through her skull. I tried to help them, but I couldn't. I was too weak. When he left, I played dead. Hid with the bodies. Felt them go cold. They were the only family I knew... and he slaughtered them.

A chill seeps through her bones.

No, no, no. This isn't happening—!

"I warned you." a voice murmurs.

She snaps her head up, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly in panic.

The Shopkeeper stands behind the small group of younglings, gazing at her in something like pity.

Something in Melanie's stomach twists in dread at the expression on the nameless woman's face.

The Shopkeeper tilts her head, gazing grimly at something over Melanie's shoulder. "You can't fight fate."

Melanie snaps to attention at the stomping sounds of metal footsteps echoing behind her.

She whips around, reaching blindly to push the young form of Reva further behind her back, gazing out into the darkened abyss of the archway ahead.

A wash of blue outlines Anakin's form as he marches out of the shadows with his lightsaber in hand, the familiar figures of the 501st following closely behind him.

Melanie's eyes widen, stumbling backwards, pure terror surging through her.

"You can't fight me." Anakin snarls.

And then he snaps a hand toward her.




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Melanie's throat is raw as she screams over and over again, body thrashing around to escape from being killed by Anakin's strong Force grip.

But she can't escape, his hands continue to hold her down, getting ready to strike the killing blow. He must've already gotten to the children.

"Mel, wake up! It's okay!" a high-pitched voice calls out from somewhere above her.

But her brain can't seem to register the voice as real. All she can think about is the terrified faces of the younglings that had begged for her help.

Slaughtered, she thinks wildly. They were fucking slaughtered!

Melanie's eyes snap open, a scream rising up again in her throat, as she raises a hand to strike against the person holding her down.

Small fingers wrap around her wrist, stopping her hand from punching up towards the blurry face above her own.

"Mel, it's okay! It's me, Ahsoka." the voice calls out again.

The familiar name makes her freeze. She blinks past the tears watering in her eyes, peering up at the orange face above her.

"A-Ahsoka?" Melanie whispers, green eyes flickering around the young girl's tired features.

Ahsoka lets out a breath of air, appearing relieved. "Yeah, it's me."

Melanie blinks rapidly, gaze flickering to the yellow face standing a few feet behind Ahsoka's shoulder.

Somehow, she just knows the dark-robed alien staring back at her is Barriss Offee.

Barriss shuffles awkwardly, appearing unsure of what to do.

Both of the young teenagers seem to have jumped from their beds only mere moments ago; both of their faces lined with the lingering affects of sleep.

And there, even further behind Barriss, she can just make out the small faces of a group of Jedi Padawans peeking around the corner of her room's open doorway.

All the Padawans murmur to each other, gazing over at her in curiosity.

Embarrassment flickers over her for a moment, and Ahsoka must see the emotion on her face somehow, because the young Togruta turns around to face the growing number of Padawans gathering near Melanie's door.

"Okay, come on. Scram, guys!" Ahsoka says, raising a hand to shoo them away. "Show's over."

The young group of Jedi at the door all shrink backwards, appearing chagrined at being caught. But then—finally—they all begin to turn away, making their way back to their own rooms around the hall.

Barriss and Ahsoka are the only two Jedi that remain; both of them turning back to face her as the last of the onlookers fade from view.

Melanie rises to a sitting position, gazing blearily around the room.

To the left, twinkling stars blink back at her from the glass doors of her room's balcony. It's pitch black outside.

Something clicks in her brain, and she finally seems to register that this is real life.

A surge of relief washes over her, every muscle in her body slumping forward as she leans over, placing her head in her hands.

In spite of herself, her shoulders gradually begin to shudder; body trembling in lingering adrenaline.

And then, before she even realizes it, her shoulders are heaving with shaking sobs.

Distantly, she registers the feeling of Ahsoka's small hand rubbing at the space between her shoulder blades.

"Oh, Mel," Ahsoka begins, voice dripping with empathy, "It's okay. It was just a nightmare."

"It was so real." Melanie chokes out, hiccuping wetly as she reaches up to swipe at the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I know." Ahsoka soothes, rubbing gently at her back. "It's okay."

A few minutes pass like that, with Melanie sobbing loudly into the silence of the room, mind continuing to flash with Reva Sevander's terrified face.

Finally—somehow—she manages to calm down.

She sniffs, rubbing angrily at the lingering tears rolling down her cheeks, before raising her gaze to stare up at the two Jedi still before her.

Ahsoka leans against the bed, perched just on the edge, gazing over at Melanie in pure worry.

Barriss continues to stand near the door quietly, appearing unsure of how to help.

Melanie's shoulders shrink in embarrassment. "... I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

Barriss smiles gently at her. "It is no bother."

Melanie nods back curtly, stomach churning uncomfortably around the future traitor of the Jedi.

But she forces the sensation down, realizing the situation is slightly different than with Anakin.

She clears her throat, gazing at them both awkwardly. "You guys can go back to bed. I'll be alright."

Beside her, Ahsoka raises a nonexistent eyebrow. "Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?"

Melanie hesitates, wringing her hands together nervously.

Ahsoka hums in thought, giving her a knowing gaze.

A beat of silence.

Ahsoka seems to deliberate for a moment, exchanging a glance with Barriss.

Finally, the young Togruta opens her mouth to speak.

"Do you want to sneak down to the mess hall for a little midnight snack?" Ahsoka asks her, gesturing between all three of them. "We could all go together."

Melanie hesitates for a moment. "I don't know..."

Barriss frowns in uncertainty. "I agree. I do not think that would be wise."

Ahsoka grins, nudging Melanie's shoulder playfully. "Oh, come on! It'll be fun."

A beat of silence passes.

Melanie swallows, her mind flashing again with the small faces of terrified Jedi younglings.

She realizes that Ahsoka is right—she's never going to be able to get back to sleep now.

"Okay." Melanie says, reluctantly conceding to Ahsoka's request.

The young Togruta's face brightens at her words.

Ahsoka grins, all but vibrating in excitement. "Great! This'll be so fun. Barriss and I used to do this all the time."

Melanie smiles unsurely, rising up from the bed to begin following Ahsoka towards the door.

Even now, the youngling's faces never leave her mind.




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It haunts her.

The snarl of Anakin's face. The twisting of his features into a look of rage as he snapped a hand forward to end her life.

The blue of his eyes.

Because that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? Why she's been so afraid.

Anakin's eyes—once upon a time—would not turn into a burning yellow until after that fateful day on Mustafar.

But in the Temple, when he had marched inside to betray everyone he knew—

His eyes had been blue.

Crystal clear blue.

Melanie snaps back to reality, starring vacantly down at the metal table as she picks at the food on her plate.

She runs the nightmare over and over through her brain.

It had felt so real.

She thinks about Anakin; about his hesitation to her question yesterday.

She supposes that it had been pretty vague.

It had probably even confused him after she had left so abruptly, barely even giving him the time to speak.

But his hesitation, in her mind, just proved that nothing had really changed. He was still the same; still viewed things the same, way deep down.

And she honestly hadn't really wanted to get into hearing him debate with her over sacrificing millions of lives over his own desires. She feels like she would have snapped at him then in that moment; would have given her future knowledge of who he will become away somehow.

And so she had left, abandoning any hope that remained for his soul.

That doesn't mean she isn't still planning on trying to use him for the plan. It just means she has to be more careful now.

Anakin isn't an ally. He's an obstacle.

A useful one, every now and then, but an obstacle to her goals all the same.

Even though Anakin's lack of morality and willingness to change is disappointing, it isn't necessarily a deal breaker.

If she can manage to beat Palpatine at his own game, then this disappointing fact about Anakin might not be such a problem.

All she has to do is find a way to keep Anakin away from the disguised Sith Lord in the final hour.

Ugh! Because that'll be totally easy.

She blinks back to reality as Ahsoka's voice cuts through the tense silence.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ahsoka asks, turning to scan over Melanie's blank expression.

She turns to the left, taking in the way Ahsoka sits at her side.

"You can't fight me." Anakin snarled.

And then he snapped a hand toward her.

Melanie clenches her jaw, gripping the metal fork in her hand tighter.

"I... I don't know." she admits quietly.

Ahsoka hesitates for a moment, before shuffling a little bit closer to Melanie's side. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Melanie pinches her lips, jerking her head in a gesture of dismissal.

What is she supposed to say?

Hey, Ahsoka, I had a nightmare that your Master killed me. How's your night been?

Like that would go well.

A tense silence swallows the tiny corner of the mess hall they remain sitting at.

It's eerie; how utterly quiet it is.

It's just one other thing to remind her of how it had felt to walk out of the Jedi Temple turbolift into a nightmare beyond comprehension.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spots the way Ahsoka exchanges an uneasy glance with Barriss, who sits across the table from Melanie.

Finally—

"You know, I used to have nightmares too." Ahsoka says quietly.

Melanie blinks, gazing over at the young girl that remains all but glued to her side. "You did?"

Ahsoka nods, blue eyes turning unfocused, as if she is recalling a distant memory. "I remember the first time I ever commanded a squad of clones. I lost most of my men on the mission. It... hurt. A lot." she admits, picking at the edges of her food.

Melanie stares down at the young girl, something in her mind recalling the event Ahsoka is speaking of.

It was when Anakin had decided to make Ahsoka a Commander.

God, she's still so young, she thinks mournfully.

Melanie swallows down the lump gathering in her throat. "...I'm sorry."

Ahsoka shrugs, giving her a tight smile. "It's okay. Nothing you can do about it. Anyways, the point is... Barriss and I know how you feel."

She stares down at her young friend for a moment in confusion.

What is she—?

Oh.

Ahsoka thinks this is still about Greaser.

Melanie stays silent, allowing Ahsoka and Barriss to come to their own conclusions.

After all—it's not like she can tell them what her nightmare was really about.

Across from her, Barriss nods at Ahsoka's words, pulling Melanie back from her rapidly darkening thoughts.

"Yes. This war... it can weigh heavy on the soul." Barriss says, lowering her eyes. "Some of the citizens of Coruscant are already whispering about how it is unjust."

Melanie stares across the table at Barriss, a flash of rage hitting her.

Unjust. She thinks wildly, green eyes scanning over the young teenager's alien-like features. Fucking unjust. As if the Padawan across from her won't end up

She clenches her jaw, teeth all but grinding together as she instantly pushes the rage down; some part of her brain realizing she's being irrational. Barriss hasn't actually done anything wrong.

Yet.

She ignores this massive problem for the moment, staring Barriss down, face eerily blank.

"The enslavement of planets is always unjust." Melanie spits out.

Barriss stares across at her, seemingly confused by Melanie's cold tone.

Melanie ignores her confusion, staring at Barriss a moment more, before finally turning her gaze away.

Beside her, Ahsoka clears her throat awkwardly.

"So, Mel," Ahsoka begins with artificial brightness, clearly trying to dislodge the growing tension in the room, "I know I never mentioned it till now, but I have an interview in a few days. And I was wondering if you would ... maybe... like to come with me?" she asks, gazing up at her with a pleading look.

Melanie blinks at Ahsoka in confusion. "Interview?"

Ahsoka perks up at Melanie's interest. "Yeah! All the Jedi do it every once in a while to try and keep the public informed about the war." She grins proudly. "This'll be my first time!"

"It has always felt very... propagandized." Barriss mumbles, lips tipping into a frown.

A surge of rage washes over Melanie again at Barriss's words.

She thinks about how Palpatine had manipulated the citizens of Coruscant into thinking the Jedi were fucking war mongers or something; thinks about how these small interviews are probably one of the very few things that give the public a true glimpse into who the Jedi are.

And then she thinks of Barriss, and how easily the young Mirialan Padawan will grow to accept the fucking lies that Palpatine will spew to the public.

She clenches her hand into a fist under the table, struggling to push the rage down. Barriss hasn't done anything to warrant it yet.

But she will, will, will—!

She takes a breath, shoving the dark thought away.

Her mind twists and turns, deliberating over Ahsoka's request.

She has wanted to explore the city of Coruscant more. Besides, it's also probably a good chance to get an idea of how the Jedi are viewed at the moment by the public.

"... Sure. I don't see why not." Melanie finally relents, lips quirking up into a small smile at the sight of Ahsoka's face brightening at her words. "Where will the interview be at?"

Ahsoka grins up at her. "In front of the Galactic Senate Building!"

Melanie freezes, dread seeping through her at the words.

Fuck! Fucking Palpatine will be lurking around that place.

She panics even more at the sight of Ahsoka frowning in confusion at her behavior.

"Is something wrong?" Ahsoka asks.

Damnit! She already said yes! It'll look suspicious if she backs out now.

Melanie gives her an empty smile, eyes vacant. "Everything's fine."




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Miles away, Anakin Skywalker paces angrily across the floor of his wife, Senator Amidala's, home.

He continues to rant to the amused form of Padmé, who perches regally on the sofa near the middle of the room.

"And then she just walked away!" Anakin exclaims, tone laced in frustration. "I mean, she barely even gave me time to think!"

"I suppose it was a rather massive question." Padmé says, reaching over to take a sip of her wine as she watches her husband pace back and forth across the floor.

"Exactly!" Anakin says, snapping his head in her direction to point towards her in approval, before whipping back around to begin pacing again. "I mean, who does that?!"

"A few Senators I know, actually." Padmé mutters.

But Anakin doesn't seem to hear her.

"I just don't get what her problem is with me." Anakin growls, throwing up his hands in pure irritation. "Why doesn't she like me?!"

All around them, rumbles begin to shake through the foundations of Padmé's apartment.

Picture frames tremble precariously on the walls. The wine in Padmé's small glass cup sloshes, threatening to trickle down onto her extravagant Senatorial dress. To the left, a burgundy vase almost topples over.

Padmé gasps, rushing over to steady the vase.

"Careful, Ani!" Padmé says, rubbing at the swirling carvings across the vase gently. "This has been in my family for generations."

But Anakin—again—cannot seem to hear her.

He continues to pace back and forth, continuing on in his rant; the glass windows beginning to shudder from the force of his anger.

"I've tried over and over. I've made jokes. I've tried to be patient. I cut a kriffing hole through a wall to save her, for Force's sake!" Anakin says, tone fuming. "So why is she still so—"

"Anakin!" Padmé snaps, walking over to grip at his face.

Anakin pauses, blinking down at her.

Padmé runs the edges of her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion, smiling softly to herself as Anakin's eyes begin to droop downward, as if growing tired.

And then—finally—the rumbles of pure power begin to die down; the shaking of the room coming to a halt.

Behind Padmé, cracks sprinkle across the large glass door that leads out to the balcony.

"Why do you want this so badly?" Padmé questions him softly. "Why does it matter if she dislikes you? Not everyone you ever meet will like you, Ani." She grins up at him, gesturing down towards her Senatorial outfit. "Trust me. I would know."

Anakin grumbles, leaning into her hand. "This is different."

"Why is it different?" Padmé asks him, voice laced with amusement.

"Because!" Anakin bursts out, tone tipping dangerously towards a boyish whine. "It was like she'd already made up her mind before she even met me."

"Other people have disliked you before." Padmé points out, gazing up at him with fondness.

"Yeah, but that was after they'd known me for a while." Anakin says, allowing Padmé to slowly wrap an arm around his torso. "This is just—it's weird, Padmé. I swear to Force, it's like she's afraid I'm gonna strangle her or something."

Slowly, he allows Padmé to begin pulling him towards the sofa.

"Maybe we should take a trip to Naboo." Padmé suggests, snuggling up to him as they both sit down on the sofa. "Wouldn't that be nice? To get away for a little while?"

"We'd only have like a week before I go on deployment with the 501st." Anakin grumbles.

"A few days, then." Padmé amends. "Just imagine—the sun, the trees. We can even visit the lakes you love so much."

Anakin stares straight ahead unseeingly, allowing Padmé to take his arm and wrap it over her shoulders. He feels the pressure of Padmé burrowing her head under his chin.

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Padmé murmurs softly.

Anakin slowly rubs his hand over her arm, continuing to stare blankly at the wall.

Melanie's disappointed eyes flash through his mind, making something inside his chest ache.

He had disappointed her with his hesitation to her question. Yes, he knows that. He doesn't understand why, but he knows he did.

He had wanted to reach after her as she turned to walk away from him yesterday, but he hadn't.

A part of him feels like he made a huge misstep. That he missed some olive branch that had been extended.

The worst part is that he isn't sure if he's going to get another chance.

"Yeah." Anakin mumbles. "Sure."

It haunts him. The disappointment that had gleamed in her eyes.

And, in spite of himself, he wants to prove her disappointment wrong.


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A/N: And now we've finally been introduced to Padmé, and have taken a little look into their relationship.

As you can see, there are sweet moments, but there are also... glaring red flags. 😬😬🚩🚩🚩

Anakin's getting a little bit obsessed. Lol. He's still going to try and be patient, but it's hard for him when he doesn't have the full picture of why Melanie could be acting the way she is.

I know to some people, Mel's snap judgment of him last chapter might have seemed a little harsh. However, I think, when considering what Anakin has already done thus far (ie: the tuskens), her wariness makes a bit more sense, considering the context.

In any other scenario, Mel barely giving someone else a chance to respond would seem kind of strange. It definitely felt strange to Anakin.

In Melanie's mind though, Anakin's hesitation just proves—in her opinion—that he hasn't really changed his morals much at all. And honestly, Anakin hasn't really changed much yet. There hasn't been enough time. But still, in Melanie's mind, she offered him a chance to prove her theories about him wrong, and his hesitation just locked her own doubts about him into place.

And, as she pointed out in this chapter, she didn't really want to stick around to debate the morality of letting millions of people die for your own self centered reasons with him.

So, now we're at a bit of an impasse at the moment. Melanie has decided that Anakin is simply an obstacle, while Anakin is still trying to figure out a way to gain her trust.

I hope you guys like this chapter. It's supposed to give a little more insight into the weight Mel is carrying on her shoulders, and how horrifying the scenario is, when you consider what will happen if she doesn't succeed. The nightmare is also supposed to solidify Melanie's terror of Anakin. Or at least who he will become. It's not just self righteous judgment. It really is about fear.

Yes, Mel has already given up on Anakin's soul.

Is that fair? Maybe. Maybe not.

Mel's not perfect. She's never been written to be. She's been very kind and selfless during a lot of this scenario to help the Jedi, but she's still human. She snaps at people too easily if she gets frustrated or afraid. She ignores people and locks herself up in her room if she's depressed.

And she can judge people too easily sometimes.

I've kind of made that another type of character arc for her that she has to overcome.

Anakin's fatal flaw is selfishness.

Melanie's fatal flaw is, I would think, either judgment/fear.

Melanie is rightfully afraid of Anakin, because of the people he's already killed. But, because she's so afraid, she's not seeing past her judgment, or the bigger picture.

She's not realizing how astounding it is that Anakin has already started to think about the choice she made with The Shopkeeper, and how that fact already shows how his thoughts are slowly changing to something new.


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"How can you win the game if you never make a move?"

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♜ ♞   ♚ ♛ ♝ ♞ ♜ ☾⋆☽ ♖ ♘ ♗ ♔ ♕ ♗ ♘ ♖
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