A/N: A oneshot with a possible expansion in the future. More of a simple, less intense fic. Enjoy ♡

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  The last rays of artificial sunlight bled the skies from hues of plum and hints of bruised violets akin to the scars left from battle. The deepest shades of crimson painted the undulating landscape, mimicking the bloodshed that had been spilt not days before. Glaring stalagmites of Coruscant rose into the skies, akin to crooked fingers seemingly beckoning the galaxy.

It reminded her of the hands reaching out for help. Always reaching.

Cries of the dead.

The shrill thrum of speeders that flew in a continuous loop of traffic now echoed of the screams from her nightmares. If she closed her eyes she could see the explosions, the heat grazing her face before the burns settled, forever branding her with a rippled scar that razed a corner of her eye, and across the plain of a high cheekbone. Her badge of honor from the battlefields bacta hadn't the ability to knit back together this time.

The planets orbital mirrors receded, unveiling the billions of stars across the galaxy. Yet, she was no longer filled with wonder. She dreaded to see even a star fall because all she saw was another life being extinguished in war. Not just for the Jedi but the clone troopers she viewed as more than just war machines bred from Kamino. Then there was the innocence of civilians caught in the line of fire, from men to women and children...

So many bodies had been piled up, burned on pyres as a sendoff, or buried beneath rubble and ruin never to resurface. Med tents blown to smithereens. Others forever lost in the petrification of the time and continuum of space. Whole fleets vaporized by the Separatist Providence-class cruisers.

Maim. Kill. Destroy. Survive.

The Jedi were no longer peacekeepers. They had become hardened soldiers of war.

There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the force.

She no longer believed in such a code that had become null and void in the aftermath of battle. Lately, it was the dark that whispered to her, unmasking the hypocrisy of the Jedi and how far they'd fallen. If Qui-Gon could see The Council now. They were no longer monastic servants to the Force but instruments of war. Even Grandmaster Yoda was not immune. After losing thousands at the Battle of Geonosis, she'd seen the darkness slowly encroach upon the Jedi High Council. Her former Master Yaddel's life had too fallen, severed by the hand of Count Dooku himself, which set a sequence of events into further motion.

She'd pledged to hunt his Sith pseudonym, Darth Tyranus down for the wounds he'd inflicted upon her after. The Chosen One himself had nearly succumbed to the darkside during his battle with the nefarious man.

So much for being one of the Lost Twenty...

After battling the Count from Serreno, Anakin Skywalker had been gravely wounded, placed in a bacta tank to recover from his injuries on Geonosis. Stubborn to a fault, her best friend had miraculously pulled through, a cybernetic arm left as tribute to his resilience. Later the galaxy would dub him as: the 'Hero With No Fear'. He'd acquire a Padawan later bestowed, Ahsoka or "Snips"—to commemorate the snarky Togrutas personality—who would give him enough flack to deflate his ego.

She had too after he'd fully accepted his new appendage.

In time she would playfully refer to him as, "General Cyborg," as a moniker that would become frequently used to knock him down a few pegs when his arrogance swelled. But too soon did such light hearted moments come to an end after his Padawan learner and her closest female comrade, departed from the Jedi Order. They had fought desperately for her innocence, following an explosion that lead to a detonated bomb planted in the Jedi temple. It was later revealed the true culprit found guilty was none other than Barriss Offee.

But by then, the damage had been irreparable.

The fissures it would create within The Council, within the sanctity of Ahsoka Tano's trust, was rendered obsolete.

The chasm this would create for Anakin and herself between the Jedi Order, would shift exponentially. Ahsoka's leave was taken very hard, akin to a sibling that left a void in their hearts. Anakin had held on to his Padawan beads, while she'd modified the Togruta's utility belt and fusing it with her own.

So a piece of her would always remain.

For many nights after, she and Anakin would sit upon this very rooftop, consoling each other over a bottle of his favored spiced, Corellian Whiskey. The burn would assuage the pain and soothe the hard ache more than meditation ever could.

They still had yet to hear of their friend's whereabouts.

"How did I know I'd find you here."

"I'm always here, Anakin, that remains unchanged." The subtle downturn of her features hinted at the concealed implication. It was yet another layer of complexity added to their relationship, following Ahsoka's departure. Regrettably, had followed a series of poor choices after Anakin procured Coruscants finest bourbon after their last mission wiped out half of their battalion. Clones they'd bonded with as more than just brother-in arms. That night had led to a drunken confession. A proclamation upon the rooftop they'd founded as younglings. The abandoned High Republic sanctum of the Jedi temple.

That had taken place just four standard days ago.

  As if sensing an onslaught of her emotions, Anakin brushed back a strawberry-blonde curl caught at the corner of her lip and he sat beside her, his battle worn knee-high boots left dangling off the ledge.

  She could've sworn he'd grown a foot taller within the last year.

  Catching her eye he chuckled, the tone more subdued in recent months."Obi-Wan had to take my robes into the tailor again now that we've been grounded for two rotations. So I'm stuck merely with this tunic until tomorrow."

She eyed the worn tunic in his favored shade of black. He was such an enigma. "What are you now 6"3?" She rolled her eyes with a huff, picking at a flaking chip of aged ferroncrete off the roofs molding. "Meanwhile, I'll be lucky if I grow another inch."

"Ah, still taller than Grandmaster Yoda," he snickered, flashing her a crooked grin though it wasn't nearly as luminous as the golden days. The shadows etched under those eyes spoke of the bloodshed that had, since, become rooted in his striking features. "Least I eat my root vegetables. You try to hand them off in mess."

Her nose crinkled in disgust at the mention, the texture still too fresh upon recollection. "I'd rather eat nuna wings than subject myself to that slime you call vegetable mash. I understand supplies are low since the war, but that's what a ration bar is for."

"Of course you would prefer something so bland. So picky," he tsked, shifting ever so slightly closer. The angular curve of his chin tilted up with a sweep of his gaze. "Doesn't change with you, does it?"

At the implication the small smile she'd managed to conjure, fell. "I wish I could say so." At the soft reply her eyes rose to meet those abysmal eyes of blue. Starlight outlined the red tint in his hair threaded with strands of gold that curled along the nape of his neck. It had grown significantly since the start of the Clone Wars.

The pronounced cupid bow of his lips curved down as a single tear, clear as crystalline, slipped down her cheek.

  Her eyes, as he'd once insinuated effervescent as Naboo's waters, filmed over.

  "Sol," His brow furrowed, deepening the laceration that marred his burnished skin. The battle wound inflicted by Dookus apprentice and assassin—Asajj Ventress—was often displayed as tribute to the valiant "battle worn hero" across HoloNet billboards. Reporters were not shy exclaiming how it exemplified the Jedi's handsome features.

The tone of his voice abruptly deepened, molding into the authoritative manner of a General, "Elyana Solei, look at me."

  Elyana recognized the infamous tone of the General Skywalkers voice and instinctually snapped to attention. Her body had moved before her mind swiftly caught up with a prickle of irritation. Her eyes narrowed in displeasure as she forced herself to maintain composure. "Bad timing, General."

  "You've always had the worst poker face, Solei." He raised his shoulders and squared his jaw. "Tell me what's wrong or—"

  "Or what?" she interjected sharply. "You'll use your mind abilities on me? The Force works both ways, y'know." She shook her head with a frustrated huff, absentmindedly moving a hand to toy with a stray thread hanging off her linen tunic.

  He was just as bullheaded as she, which was further exhibited by the reprimand of their former Masters. She'd learn in the years of their training, united or apart, they were forces to be reckoned with.

  "You already... know," she admitted gently, evidentially yielding to the bond that bound them together in the Force since younglings. Suddenly she felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders; bone-deep exhaustion. The sheer emotional turmoil that simmered beneath the surface ever since the recent shift in their relationship. The unspoken tension between them had, since, grown palpable, making every encounter feel like navigating a minefield. Things had been much easier as younglings—back when the world was simpler, when their bond had been pure and unburdened by the complexities of duty, power, and the weight of unexpressed feelings.

She missed the ease they once had. The carefree moments spent in the sanctum of the Jedi Temple.

Anakin's eyes bore into hers with concern. It hardened his features similar to steering a warship into uncharted territory and bracing for impact. "This isn't just about your nightmares, is it?"

Oh, did she wish for it to be that simple. Alas she shook her head with a stifled sniffle. "Believe me, Anakin. I wish I could erase all semblance of these feelings... but I can't."

The pain upon her discovery had birthed a harrowing gap in her soul that profoundly emanated through the Force. Recalling, she realized she was projecting such when a near inaudible gasp followed from he.

The truth had already been revealed, the threads of sorrow and bittersweet heartache sharpening like arrows straight into his own. "...You know...?"

The knot left in her stomach twisted. She picked at the thread more aggressively as a familiar brunette surfaced in her mind. Beautiful. Brazen. It had left a molted bruise on her psyche. "Beloved by all, the diplomatic senator of Naboo."

Her sweet character made Elyana's teeth ache. Yet her own heart yearned for the way he looked at... her. As if the sun and the moon set with her. "Unfortunately," she added bitterly, "you two are terrible at acting platonic."

A deep frown settled between his thick brows with a sliver of concern. "How... how long have you known?"

She could sense his curdled unease at being founded and softened her voice, "I had my suspicions the way you two embraced in the hangar on Geonosis. Which were conveyed shortly after Ahsoka left."

His eyes darkened. A sloped fold of skin creased across his forehead culminated from strenuous missions, to the demands of a Jedi. "You didn't—"

"No, no," She shook her head with a furrowed brow, her frustration evident. "I never witnessed physical contact, thank the Force. I'd rather impale myself with a lightsaber than see you two fraternize."

"Jeez, Sol," he responded with a hushed laugh though it was hardly filled with mirth. Embarrassment and a hint of something she couldn't quite decipher weaved through her thoughts. It brushed against her mind before she felt him sever their bond, shielding his mental walls from further scrutiny. "I take it you're not going to report this?"

She scoffed, affronted at both actions. "I'm your best friend you kriffing blowfish! Do you think I'd take pleasure in seeing your title stripped and lightsaber destroyed? Both your reputations tarnished. Damn, General Cyborg," she sniffled, "I feel the love, really."

"No, no," he growled out, scraping a hand furiously through the tangle of wavy locks as he felt a hint of her pain. "Dammit, when you say it like that... I trust you Elyana, I do. I just... heightened emotions can cause people to unintentionally lash out in pain."

   His face had contorted with regret even before he finished, vividly recalling that fateful moment when he'd embraced the darkside. He'd confide in her of what resulted in the Tusken Raider massacre. The death of his mother who passed in his arms after incessant weeks of torture.

  Elyana admired the resilient matron just from the stories he'd tell about his childhood. His mother had been a strong and courageous woman. A nurturer by nature that inspired him to dream even in the hostile environment he'd come from. The sheer compassion she'd demonstrated echoed in his character, which only caused her to fall more for the aspiring Jedi.

  "No," she sniffled again, her voice hollowing with a hint of his pain slipping through the barriers of his mind. It arrested her heart. "Look at my life, Anakin. My parents left me in a cantina in Coronet City before the Jedi found this Corellian. If war hasn't turned me into a full blown Sith, I doubt heartbreak will."

Anakin's voice was laced with guilt and an anger that simmered at the thought, "Kriffing poodoos tuh ka emuy. Elyana..."

She realized his frustration had risen to the point where traces of his native language began slipping into his words and was quick to cut in. "I've never been one to sugarcoat, Anakin, and I'm not going to start now. I wasn't even there for you on Tatooine. But, she was. The same girl you've pined for since you were nine standard years. Meanwhile it took me half of my youth before my impeccable timing. A drunken Jedi left on a rooftop confessing her undying love..." She snorted in disbelief. "How anticlimactic: a Jedi raised to abide by the code breaking nearly every hymn within a single night..."

She couldn't help but bitterly laugh at the absurdity of it all. Imagining Mace Windu or Yoda himself catching wind of this, would've been quite the Holodrama.

Her words became laced with newfound vigor as she steeled herself for his reaction. "Which is why I've decided to go on a mission with Master Secura to Felucia. I need some distance, away from all of...this."

  As she gestured between them, Anakins expression darkened a degree. Displeased the direction this had taken, a possessive edge crept into his voice, "Felucia? That planet is crawling with danger. Everything from the wildlife to a rumored Separatists base. You can't just—"

  "I'm not staying here, Anakin, I can't!" Elyana interjected, her frustration boiling over, "Can you honestly fault me for that?" Her voice trembled with the effort to keep her emotions in check, the well of emotions inside her roiling like a storm. She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself, but the weight of it all was too much.

"I'll keep your secret," she continued, her voice quieter but filled with a pain she couldn't hide. "But to be forced to watch you two pine over each other... I can't." Her eyes shuttered with visible hurt, the words cutting deep, as if saying them aloud solidified the unbearable reality she'd been trying to avoid. No amount of Jedi composure could mask the raw truth of what she felt for him, and the agony of knowing it would never be returned.

  Those blue eyes blazed like the core of a kyber crystal, burning with a desperation that surfaced in his blunted words. "Elyana, you can't just run away from this." His voice was firm, but there was an unmistakable edge of pleading beneath it. "Felucia is too dangerous. As your General, I won't allow it."

  His expression hardened, but the fire in his eyes betrayed the turmoil he was struggling to control. The force of his emotions pressed down on her, a mixture of duty, fear, and something far more personal. He wasn't just speaking as her superior; it was deeper than that, more complicated. But behind it all was the undeniable truth—he couldn't lose her, not to the dangers of war, and not to the fracture growing between them.

Elyanas resolve hardened, "You won't allow it? Tough druk, Skywalker, I relinquish my position to Captain Rex. While I would like a verbal release from you, I'm not asking: I'm going."

  The very rooftop of their ideal hangout, suddenly became a newfound battleground for two tumultuous forces locked in a battle of willpower. Elyana couldn't ignore the fire within her nor could Anakin deny the possessive streak that had awakened in him. It brought their friendship into new, uncharted territory that threatened to upend everything they stood for.

  Even with his jaw clenched and eyes fixed on Elyana, his gaze attempting to assert the authority he was so used to wielding, her determination remained unshaken. She met his intense stare, her voice firm yet laced with the vulnerability she had long hidden.

  "Anakin," she began, refusing to waver under the weight of his presence, "I have to go. I need to find my own grounds." Her words carried the weight of years spent in his shadow, in the constant blur of duty and war. "Our lives have been intertwined for so long... I don't even know what that looks like anymore. Who... I am."

  "Sol, I can't lose you like we lost Ahsoka," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the tremor beneath it was unmistakable. The pain of that memory was still fresh, a wound that had never fully healed. "While Jedi attachments are forbidden, I've never known ours to be wrong." His eyes softened for a moment, laying bare a truth he'd long carried but never spoken aloud.

  Then, with a tone forged in steel, he pressed on. "If something were to happen to you because I wasn't there... I'd never forgive myself." His jaw clenched once more, but the vulnerability in his gaze remained. He couldn't hide the depth of his fear or the possessive need to keep her close.

  Not from her.

"That's exactly why we must let go," she whispered, reaching for his hand before retracting it on second thought. " I can't live in the shadow of your life as you live yours. I will be okay, Anakin."

Anakin's voice grew hoarse, thick with accusatory emotion. "You're leaving me no choice, aren't you?" His eyes, once pleading, now held a sharper edge, the vulnerability shifting into something darker. "Even though I'd be there for you if you'd just ask," he continued, his tone a mix of hurt and anger.

It wasn't just about her leaving—it was the sense of helplessness gnawing at him, the feeling that she was slipping away despite all the ways he wanted to protect her. His hands flexed at his sides, his entire posture tense with the weight of emotions he was barely keeping in check. "I'd stand by you through anything, Sol. Why can't you see that?"

Elyanas heart ached at his words barely able to choke out in a whisper, "Not this time."

She could still recall the lonely boy once huddled in the back of Grandmaster Yoda's training class as a Padawan learner. He'd been far older than any of the younglings there. She'd remembered feeling the loneliness that ailed him coupled with the loss of the reverent Qui-Gon Jinn whose life had abruptly ended under the blade of a Sith Apprentice, Darth Maul. That was the day she'd decidedly crossed the barrier between them, catapulted into his world for years to come. She had been a witness through every shift in his life, as he had been in hers. They had grown up together, enduring the awkward teenage phases of acne, lanky limbs, and the unpredictable waves of puberty while unsure of what came next. But before long, the rigorous hours of their training began to shape them both—sculpting their bodies, honing their skills, and transforming the lanky boy she had known into a formidable Jedi, his once-awkward frame now a testament to the strength and discipline demanded by their path.

  Where there had once been youthful innocence, there was now the honed physique of a warrior, an attractive young man behind the blade, who had weathered battles both physical and emotional. The bond between them had grown stronger over time, but with that came the complexities of two lives deeply intertwined—

  Yet growing ever overshadowed by secrets.

No longer the boy she'd once known, his maturation was evident in her eyes. What she didn't realize was that he had seen the same transformation in her—a strong, beautiful young woman with eyes that had always been a deep well of reflection and resilience.

"Anakin," It was her turn to meet his gaze, unwavering. "I know you've felt the darkness surrounding this place. I'm afraid if I don't go, it'll swallow me whole too..."

A final resignation settled over his face, the tension in his jaw slowly loosening. It was a bittersweet surrender, one he offered just for her. With a gentled sigh, he spoke in a tone voice softer than before. "Very well, Elyana Solei," he said, each word laced with quiet acceptance. "I, General Skywalker... release you from your position."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a release not just from duty, but from the unspoken bond that tethered them. She felt it not just from the breath in his words but within.

Within the Force, a maelstrom of opposing emotions suddenly clashed, coursing through their veins and entwining around the pulsating muscle in their chests. The intensity of their bond resonated with every beat, a mix of fear, longing, and unspoken words.

  "Just promise me," he whispered thickly, "you'll watch out for yourself. Allow the Force to guide you." His plea lingered between them, a fragile thread of hope in the storm they could feel just over the horizon.

  Elyana managed a tender, grateful smile, her eyes a deep well of emotion , "Always, Skywalker."

  "... Very well.

  A silent understanding borne from maturation deepened the roots between the two lifelong friends just then. Thus, it required no further words.

  At the coming hours of dawn, they reluctantly parted ways, the weight of their farewell hanging in his gaze and pierced through the silence, filled with unspoken reverence he could never fully express. "May the Force be with you, Elyana Solei," he said softly, his voice carrying both a blessing and a quiet plea, as if hoping the words could shield her from whatever lay ahead.

  Her eyes swelled with tears, reflecting the same message left unsaid. Her voice cracked when she whispered, "And you, Anakin Skywalker, walker of the stars."

  When Elyana was well into hyperspace hours later, she discovered a small piece of scratch paper tucked carefully into the groove of her lightsaber. It was old, likely from the deep recesses of the temple's library—worn but intact. Her heart skipped as she unfolded it, her fingers tracing the fragile edges. There, in scratched cursive—his personal handwriting—were two simple words that would carry her, in the days of war to come:

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