A heavy emotion weighed on Nara's chest as she exhaled a melancholic sigh. Obi-Wan had forewarned her that Anakin, her very own Anakin, had been seduced by the dark side. She didn't want to believe him, but the truth was Obi-Wan would never lie; the thought of it being true was simply too painful to accept. It couldn't be. With a heavy heart, she boarded the ship alongside the Senator of Naboo, Padmé Amidala — the woman for whom Anakin would abandon the Jedi Order, she presumed.

As they approached the fiery world of Mustafar, Nara disembarked down the ramp, decisively halting Padmé from following. "You must stay here; should Anakin catch sight of you, he'd be furious," she cautioned.

Padmé nodded and moved back up the ramp into the ship, where Captain Typho and Obi-Wan were ensuring that the young, pretty woman wouldn't come to harm from the dark grip that had snared Anakin. Speaking of the young Jedi, Anakin was hurriedly moving toward the sleek Naboo starship, likely thinking his dreams had come to fruition, only to halt abruptly when he saw the familiar brown-blue eyes of his best friend.

"Nara," he breathed out, clenching his fists. "Where is Padmé?" he demanded.

Nara's gaze lingered on Anakin. He seemed different; sweat trailed down his brow, his long dirty-blond hair was matted. He looked exhausted, it was evident in his posture.

Nara looked at him, her gaze narrowing slightly. "You wanted her, didn't you? To leave the Order for a senator?" she asked. Although it wasn't the warmest greeting she could offer, the sorrow was saturating every pore of her being.

She didn't approve of Anakin's affection for another woman, yet she wouldn't stand in their way. Instead, her resolve was focused solely on preventing Anakin from descending further into madness, from turning into a creature they would all come to fear.

Anakin let out a snort of derision. "As if you wouldn't do the same for Rex," he retorted sharply. Nara blinked in surprise, and Anakin's blue eyes narrowed. "Don't you realize? Your feelings were so obvious whenever you slept on the bridge. Everyone knew you liked Rex. Everyone, that is, except Rex himself. Seriously!"

Nara let out a weary sigh and rubbed her hands together, the skin scarred from ceaseless training with the lightsaber and from scratching herself in distress. "Anakin, you're the only one for whom I'd leave the Order. You know that," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Anakin stepped closer, his once-blue eyes beginning to glow with a deadly yellow. "Really? Is that what you think, or are you just lying to yourself?" he snapped, frustration and sorrow battling within him as his eyes welled with tears. He didn't want to lose her. "I did this for you, Nara, not for Padmé," he declared after a moment of heavy silence.

Nara blinked in confusion. "What?" she asked. Anakin nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. "When I heard you had feelings for Rex that night, I thought I'd lost any chance of truly winning your heart. Sure, I've been with Padmé, but it's over between us now," he sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"We've broken up. I don't know why she's not broadcasting it to the Council, but she hasn't," he added. "She doesn't make it public because she's kind, and she's still your friend," Nara said, understandingly, then reached out her hand to him. "Please, Anakin, come with me. Let's go home, and we can talk this through."

Anakin laughed—a sound tinged with relief—and his gaze fell, softening, the sallow glare of corruption fading from his eyes. "Promise you'll give me a chance?" he implored. Nara, lost in contemplation, weighed her myriad affections. Her heart had indeed harbored tender sentiments for this gallant Jedi for ages, yet it also resonated, like a song only she could hear, with feelings for Rex and others among the ranks of the unique, like the Bad Batch.

But here and now, she had Anakin. He was her choice—a choice she would cherish above all else. Flashing a gentle yet daring smile, her fangs peeking like the first light of dawn, she assured, "Always, Anakin. You will always have a chance with me."

Lit by the promise of their united future, Anakin reciprocated her grin and clasped her hand. Side by side, they strode toward the Naboo fighter, departing the ashen shroud of Mustafar—a planet whispering morbid tales of demise.

For although Anakin might never sever his ties to the shadow that haunted him, he was resolute: he would honor the light. He aspired to be the paragon of balance, to weave the light and dark into harmony—at long last.

If peace would only last. 

~~~~

Peace had been sought and seemingly secured, yet as the night draped its dark veil around them, Nara was abruptly torn from slumber by a nightmare. Her breath came in sharp, haunted gasps, while a film of perspiration clung to her. Anakin was dozing beside her, his mechanical arm thrown across her waist. He stirred at her movement, mumbling drowsily.

"Hmm, what's up, babe?" he mumbled, his eyes barely a crack against the low light.

Nara exhaled a slow, steadying breath, pushing a lock of hair back with an uneasy hand. "It's nothing, just a nightmare," she whispered.

With a sleepy hum, Anakin pulled her closer, his grip reassuring. "Come back to bed; there's still time to rest. We'll seek Master Yoda's guidance tomorrow," he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby against the remnants of her unrest.

Nara hummed softly, surrendering to the warmth as she nestled back into the embrace of her beloved. There, wrapped in the sanctuary of Anakin's chest, she couldn't possibly anticipate the tides that destiny held in store. The last image she beheld before sleep reclaimed her was the tranquil, adoring expression of Anakin's face—a fleeting sanctuary before the night's embrace deepened into darkness once more.