2k words

(Y/n)'s POV
I slipped into the third dress, trying on each one while he watched closely. His gaze burned into me through the mirror, so intense that I thought he might push me against it and recreate our moment from the library right here.

But he didn't.

He didn't do much of anything except watch me like he's a starving child who had spotted cake for the first time in months.

He didn't utter a word, only nodded in approval each time before gesturing for me to try on the next dress. It was strange; he was acting strangely. It felt like there was something he wanted to say, something just waiting to be spoken. Either that or I'm just overthinking it—my Master has always been strange in his own way I suppose.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped into the black dress. It had a zipper at the back that I couldn't reach, and without me asking, he stepped forward and gently pulled the zipper up.

My breath caught as his cool knuckles brushed against my back while he zipped it up. I felt his warm breath on my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and my heart pounded against my chest.

There was something different about him today, and I wished I could figure out what it was or had the courage to ask him.

Finally, after what felt like ages since we left the library, he broke the silence. "I think this one is my favorite." His eyes met mine in the mirror. They were still that striking blue, deeper than the sky, more vibrant than the waters of Naboo, and richer than any sapphire. I knew about sapphires because of a woman who visited Watto's garage now and then. She always wore at least one sapphire and seemed well-off. Once, I gathered the courage to ask her about it, and she told me blue was her favorite color because it reminded her of the sea. When I asked her what a sea was, I had never seen such pity in anyone's eyes before.

'The sea is a wondrous and mysterious place. Many people are afraid of it, choosing to stay away because of the dangers it holds, the tragedies that can occur in its depths. Yet, they overlook its soothing nature, its stunning beauty, and the magical way sunlight dances on its surface. Water is essential for life; without it, we would not exist.'

I never understood this until now.

Does he see it? That his eyes are as blue as the sea, not red like fire? I wanted to ask him, but I held back, afraid to speak. Part of me feared that if I said something, that color might fade away. It was so beautiful, so rare. I wanted to look at it as long as I could.

I blurted out, "You're beautiful," before I even realized what I was saying. A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I almost wanted to slap myself or even rip out my own vocal cords for making me sound so infatuated.

He tilted his head, his gaze still fixed on me through the mirror. "If I'm beautiful, then what are you?" he asked gently, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the dress, tracing my curves and hips. "Is there even a word for it?" he mused, not really expecting a reply. "Exquisite? Stunning? Heavenly? Bewitching?" He tightened his grip on the fabric, pulling me closer.

What was happening? I felt like time had stopped, like everything around me had stopped. I couldn't hear the faint tick of the clock anymore, the speeders driving by outside anymore, or clones walking down the hall. Just the sound of his breath and my heart as it thudded, frantically.

"Bewitching," he whispered, repeating the word as if it held some magic. "That seems just right. It's the only way this could be real, isn't it?" He spoke more to himself than to me, and I sensed he didn't want an answer.

"Master," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper, breathless, "What are you saying?"

In that instant, I noticed a change in him. He let go of me, stepped back, and exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. His gaze dropped to the floor. "Pick any dress you want, you look lovely in them all, but this one suits you well," he said before leaving my room, leaving me in a swirl of confusion.

💚

Everything unfolded so quickly I hardly had time to mentally prepare. I had thought the party was still a few days away, maybe even longer. But here it was, happening right now.

Today.

I wouldn't say I hated the idea of a celebration in my name, but the spotlight being solely on me was something I truly dreaded. It was overwhelming. There were generals, senators, and other powerful figures all around, and it felt intimidating, borderline suffocating.

Inside the Temple, the banquet hall was lavishly decorated. Gold was everywhere, so much that it almost blinded me. The utensils sparkled in gold, the plates gleamed in gold, and the cups shone in gold. Though the tablecloths were black, only heightened the brilliance of the golden decor, and deep blood-red flowers surrounded the tables—their colors so vivid they seemed almost too real, as if they had been plucked from a dream rather than a garden.

As I moved through the hall, I could feel the weight of their gazes upon me, each pair of eyes scrutinizing, judging, and perhaps even envying. I nearly ripped off my mask because the air grew thick and I felt like I couldn't breathe. The only thing keeping me held together was the fact that I was not walking in alone, Anakin was by my side.

But even with him here, I wanted to shrink away, to disappear into the shadows where I could escape the relentless attention. But there was no hiding in a place like this, not when everyone was watching. So my only option now is to think about how to navigate this sea of expectations without drowning.

Vader turned to me, his presence looming as we made our way to a chair at the front of the room. It looked like a throne, adorned in gold with rich red velvet cushions. "Don't be nervous," he said, his voice steady.

"It's easy for you to say. They already fear and respect you," I replied, glancing at a few faces before quickly averting my gaze. "They don't know me, and I can feel their judgment."

He let out a soft laugh, surprising me. When I met his gaze, I saw his red eyes glimmer. I found myself missing the blue, "You're being paranoid. They're not judging you; they're simply curious. In time, they will learn to fear you too." As we reached the throne, I thought he would take a seat, but instead, he took my hand and encouraged me to sit down. "Remember, never break eye contact. It shows weakness and fear," he advised, likely noticing my earlier mistake. "Keep your gaze steady, and soon enough, they'll be the ones looking away."

I nodded, "Yes, Master." He gently combed my hair with his gloved fingers, letting the strands fall softly onto my shoulders.

"Absolutely perfect," he murmured quietly, "Now, lift your chin." He tapped my chin lightly, and I instinctively raised it. "Keep your posture straight, be kind yet firm, and remember, no one is allowed to touch you for any reason."

I nodded once more, "Yes, Master."

"And you must not leave this room without speaking to me or Rex first, do you understand?"

I sighed and nodded again, "Yes, Master."

He seemed pleased as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "Good, now let's welcome our guests." He turned to face the crowd, and they hurried in; the generals dressed in their military uniforms and the Senators adorned in their lavish gowns and suits. They quickly settled into their seats around the room.

As I scanned the faces, I caught sight of someone I recognized—Bail Organa. I was surprised to see him here, but I masked my surprise and held his gaze until he grew uneasy and looked away.

"Welcome," my Master began, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice." He stepped down from the platform, moving closer to the guests. "Today, we gather for one reason: to celebrate my Apprentice, Darth Anya and for her to get to know all of you." He gestured toward me, briefly turning to acknowledge me before facing the audience again. "If anything were to happen to me, she will take my place as—"

"A woman?" an elderly man interrupted. A rush of anger flared within me at his words, but I managed to keep my composure, though it was a struggle. What does me being a woman have anything to do with running the galaxy? Men, always thinking they know best, it disgusts me.

I noticed my Master's demeanor shift instantly. "You dare question me, Admiral Tarkin? No," he said, shaking his head as he stepped closer to the foolish man. "You dare to interrupt me?"

The room fell into a heavy silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"I will have your tongue if you speak out of turn again," he snapped before resuming his speech. "As I was saying, should anything happen to me, she is next in my lineage. I have trained her for this role, and despite her delicate appearance, I assure you, she will kill anyone in this room if I command it, and she will do so without hesitation."

His words made me feel proud, yet deep down, I knew I still had so much to learn. It wasn't just about fighting or using the force; I needed to understand the world of politics too. I worried that my knowledge was limited, but they didn't have to know that.

'No, they didn't.'

"One by one, you will come forward and introduce yourselves to her. State your name, your title, and if you have a gift, present it." As he spoke, his sharp gaze swept across the room, examining every corner, every door, and even the vents, as if searching for something important. "No one is to touch her in any way. If you do, I will sever your hand from your body."

Nervous glances filled the space, with almost everyone on edge, except for the old man who continued to glare at me like I was nothing more than a bug. I shot him a glare in return, and to my irritation, he held my gaze, accepting the challenge. He thinks I'm not worthy? I'll prove my worth, just like my Master would, in a way I've seen him do countless times.

I pressed my fingers together, and in that moment, he started to choke. At first, he tugged at his collar, thinking it was just a bothersome fit. I squeezed tighter. That's when he truly understood what was happening, and his gasps grew louder, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He clawed at his throat, glaring at Anakin as if to blame him, not me—because surely it couldn't be me, right? Just a mere, weak woman.

Suddenly I wasn't feeling so nervous anymore, it was like I needed something like this to remind me that although these people were powerful in a way—I was still better.

Anakin glanced at me, an eyebrow raised, "He was glaring at me." I replied casually, my voice carrying to the others present.

From the way his eyes crinkled, I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, "Let him go; I think he's had enough," he commanded, and I obeyed, releasing my grip the moment he spoke.

Admiral Tarkin inhaled deeply, then erupted into a fit of coughs.

My Master turned to the crowd, "So, who wants to be first?"