𝕮𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗘𝗡
━━ 𝙏𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙇𝙔

━━ 𝘊𝘙𝘠𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘚
𝟸𝟹 𝙱𝙱𝚈

Selyn's lightsaber cuts through the air in a high arc, sending sparks flying as it crashes against Anakin's, golden against blue. Fire and water, sun and moon. 

He shifts his stance, calculating eyes roaming over her body, trying to anticipate her next move. She strikes again and he parries with ease. He can see frustration building up within her, and he is delighted by the anger in her eyes as she looks at him.

They circle each other, staring into each other's eyes so intensely as if they are trying to catch a glimpse into their opponent's head. Anakin notices that the only time Selyn doesn't avert his gaze is during their training fights. Even more, the intensity with which she looks at him threatens to burn the first layers of his skin.

When they step unto the palace's roof each evening, she transforms into someone else. Someone who will do anything to win, entirely unleashed and not one bit the well-composed façade she presents to the council.

But tonight, Anakin doesn't grant her the satisfaction of winning. And so Selyn is still slightly disgruntled as they sit down on the low wall surrounding the wide roof afterwards, sharing a bottle of water between them.

The water is warm and not exactly refreshing, and so he leans back slightly, letting the slight breeze cool the sweaty skin of his forehead and neck.

"You know, I'm sorry for being in a bad mood when losing," Selyn says, gazing into the red sun as it vanishes behind Sol City's intricate silhouette of curved cupolas and artfully twisted towers. "But I can't help it. I just...I always strive to be the best." She sighs. "You know what I'm like."

"I know." He passes the bottle back to her. "I get to suffer the consequences of your ambition every single time you duel me. Because for some reason you've chosen me as your favourite opponent to humiliate."

She shrugs. "It's because you're the best option, Skywalker."

He considers her answer and decides to take it as a compliment. After all, he truly is her best training option. Selyn is one of the most skilled padawans, and certainly only to be bested by him when it comes to lightsaber combat. He knows her midichlorian-count must have been impressive, too, because there had been quite some anticipation building as to which master would take her as their padawan. She isn't as strong in the force as he is, of course, but she is remarkable, and for some time he had hoped she would have to share the spotlight with him, the Chosen One. It would surely have been less frightening and lonely with her by his side, shouldering the Council's, no, the entire Order's expectations and watchful gaze together.

But here they are, Anakin still isolated by his title and Selyn residing further away from the centre of attraction, but still an object of curiosity and speculation.

As darkness settles, Selyn readies herself to go inside again, securing the lightsaber at her hip once again. Anakin makes no effort to leave, contemplating to stay and meditate for a few minutes.

Selyn must have guessed his intention, and so she throws him a cheerful "See you, Skywalker," and leaves him sitting alone.

He watches her figure disappear towards the ladder leading back into the palace, his gaze lingering there even long after she left, whilst the moon rises and the world around him quietens. Finally, he closes his eyes, tensing slightly as the familiar images from his nightmares flash before his vision – his mother, suffering, pleading for help. But he dismisses them, or at least he tries, just as the Jedi would suggest. And with the anxiety suffocating his insides gone peacefulness can spread there instead, he feels the familiar warmth flow throughout his body as he becomes one with the force.

His mind replays images of the past days, of this vibrant city surrounding him, Selyn's family, her little sister trying to impress him with her cartwheeling skills, her mother's warm gaze as she watches them, Selyn's eyes flashing as they train, their chase over Sol city's roof and Cleodys' confession.

She is an interesting and intimidating person, that older sister of Selyn's, he thinks, and he has gotten to know her quite well, too, during their guard duty. She is seven years older than Selyn and him, and honestly just a tiniest bit terrifying with her fierce tone and iron gaze, her strong figure and that deadly spear he has seen her wield with greatest precision.

No, Cleodys Val'aeon is definitely not someone he wants to be cross with. Even more surprising is that he starts to like her. He likes her sharp tongue, how she's treating him as if he weren't special and how soon enough their time together is filled with easy banter and increasingly creative insults. He never had an older sister, but that's what he'd imagine it to be like.

Anakin notices after some time that Cleodys seems to try her best to paint Selyn in the best light possible by highlighting all her positive features. Her strength, her wit, and so on - as if he hadn't noticed them before.

"You're being really obvious," he tells her after being forced to listen to the story of young Selyn saving a desert rat from the heat for the hundredth time.

Cleodys throws him an offended look. "No, I am not," she protests.

Anakin grins. "Yes, you are. And if you're trying to make me like Selyn, better stop it, because it's getting really embarrassing for yourself and her."

She gasps. "Ouch, Skywalker. Now you're just being mean. That's not necessary."

But she drops the topic after that. They return to exchanging stories they've come across, Cleodys is particularly interested in Coruscant and the Jedi order and Anakin's life as a padawan.

How different and yet similar the Val'aeon sisters are, he thinks, as they are sitting at the exact same spot they always do just a few days later, skin glistening with sweat, Sol City spreading below them. In addition to the water Selyn has brought some foreign fruit from the market, it's juice sweet and pink as it runs down their fingers.

It's then that he realizes why he likes training with her so much. Because he is getting under her skin and he knows it. Even worse, he enjoys it.

But in truth he always had. He had always liked agitating her, even when they were younglings. He had enjoyed making that façade of the perfect Jedi crumble, by competing with her, by teasing and annoying her. There had never been a victory as sweet as when he saw her snap, when her cheeks flushed red with anger, when her eyes sparked dangerously, inviting, daring him to go even further.

Anakin had felt superior, seeing that part of her that others didn't. He had been intrigued by what the other Jedi had said about her: she was powerful, maybe even equal to him. She had been taken when she was quite old already, just like him. Always first in their classes, always trying the hardest, striving to be perfect. The perfect student, the perfect padawan. Their teacher's pride. A threat to the other younglings.

And an enigma to Anakin. His own personal puzzle, a quest for him and only him. Dangerously hypnotic, like flames dancing.

He has seen a glimpse of that spark in front of the council a few days ago. And ever since that he strived to light it up again. To see that other part of her, the one that isn't the perfect, obedient padawan. No, he wants to see that part that spoke the truth loudly, the one that takes what it wants, that is bold and strong. Because this Selyn, it calls to him.

He wasn't sure whether he should be scared or excited that part of him answers.

Anakin knows Obi-Wan would die a thousand deaths if he were to hear his thoughts. And distantly he knows that they weren't exactly true to the Jedi way, that what he ultimately aims for - and has not yet admitted to himself – will lead him towards a dangerous path.

But he can't resist it. Just as he can't resist asking dangerous questions.

"What do you think about attachments?" He asks.

"Attachments are forbidden." Selyn answers automatically. Her hair shines bright in the sun as she shakes her head. "A Jedi shouldn't have any."

"Do you really think so?" 

She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Yes, I do. The code says so, and the code is the reason the Jedi are as great as they are today."

"And yet... you have attachments," he counters. 

"No, I don't. I take the Jedi's teachings very seriously, maybe you should, too." Selyn furrows her brow crossly as he just laughs. "Laugh all you want, but I believe in these ancient methods. I will to be the perfect Jedi, and I will achieve that by following the code."

Anakin shakes his head. "You're no perfect jedi. And neither am I, neither is Nadia and that's alright and...well, maybe Obi-Wan is truly perfect. But it doesn't matter, you don't have to be perfect to be a great person, to guard the weak and fulfil your purpose to help the galaxy. I don't believe anyone can be this perfect version of a Jedi you're striving for."

"I can be," she says stubbornly. "I can be the best. Don't tell me where my limits are, Skywalker."

"Attachments don't limit you, Selyn. They broaden your perspective."

"You sound like Nadia. Maybe you should go talk to her instead."

Anakin raises a brow. "Criticising your master? That's not very typical for you."

"I'm not criticising her. I'm just not always agreeing with her views. Yes, the Jedi are encouraged to love. But they are supposed to love all things equally, to give love in its purest form by cherishing all life – not this greedy, dangerous love that makes people think they can claim another heart. Attachments like these blind us."

"Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't. But if it is, then we're both wearing this blindfold."

Selyn's eyes spark with anger. "How can you say that! You don't even-"

"-know you?" he finishes her sentence, causing that fire in her eyes to burn even brighter. Careful, Skywalker, a voice warns. Don't burn yourself.

But that spark doesn't scare him. He's positively thrilled.

"That might be true, I don't know all about you – but I know enough to see that you deeply care about Nadia. You are protective of her, Selyn. I know of her past, and you do, too, and I see in your eyes that you want to protect her from ever feeling that agony again. Same goes for your family, you've just found them and are already determined to never let them go again. Do you think it's the Jedi way to go to family dinners, to hug your sisters the way you do?"

"Shut up, Skywalker. You don't know anything." She is seething and that's how he sees that he indeed knows everything.

And so he presses on. If she decides to decapitate him afterwards, he might as well make it worth it.

"I see that look in your eyes when you are with them, and I recognize it. I recognize your devotion and your passion and the rebellious thoughts, even though you try to fight them. I recognize that look in your eyes because I see it every time I look into the mirror. We're more alike than you think, Selyn."

She jumps to her feet, hair billowing in the breeze, eyes blazing. She looks as if she would kill him on the spot and all he can think about is how absolutely breath-taking she is. "We're nothing alike. You can daydream and indulge in your delusions as much as you want for all I care, but keep your stupid opinions to yourself."

And with that, Selyn vanishes, leaving a taste of smoke on his tongue.

Tread lightly, this voice of reason warns.

Like hell he will.

Selyn is still fuming as she reaches her quarters. She is glad that Nadia isn't there because she isn't quite sure whether she could mask that anger burning inside her.

She considers throwing one of the vases against the wall and blaming it on the maintenance droid, but she has a feeling Nadia won't believe that. And so she settles for pacing their rooms, back, forth, back, forth. As if she could escape the words he said.

As if she could escape the truth within them.

Selyn closes her eyes and slows her step as the anger starts to wear off. It isn't like her to react that way, it isn't like her to have so little control about her emotions. She is passionate, yes, but usually she can keep all that below the surface.

But Anakin seems to have set something off within her, as if he was poking a wasp's nest and now unleashed a million buzzing insects, all crawling atop her skin angrily. It makes her furious to admit that he can make her react that way.

It makes her even more furious to admit that he was right.

As the sun sets, she turns his words over and over in her mind. She watches the bustling on the plaza before the citadel, from her window she can see an army of servants prepare tables of food, attach lamps of coloured glass to all surfaces and walls and carry instruments to the corners, closely followed by their musicians.

She totally forgot. Tonight is Nedyr, an annual celebration to honour Elowyn and her gifts of water. The people will dance and laugh in her name, hoping that she will continue to bless them with her gift of life, with the waters beneath the dunes.

She sees the decorations brought outside by the people of the city, sees them bear food and cakes to share during this joyous event. Her eyes follow their movements, but her mind is occupied, contemplating Anakin's words.

Gentle music rises into the sweet evening, floating into the deepening red of the sunset. She hears it and yet she doesn't, too busy thinking of his intense gaze, the truth that struck hard.

We're more alike than you think, Selyn.

She doesn't like this thought. All her life she has been striving for a place in this order she was brought into, starved for appreciation and the Jedi's compliments, working hard to be what they expect her to be - to be anything but this reckless, passionate, brave boy.

And yet, he is right.

Selyn has attachments. She thinks of Nadia, good hearted and bright as sunlight upon water - Selyn would fight an army to save her. She thinks of her mother, their newfound closeness, and their warm embrace - even though she hasn't seen her for years she would fight for her too. And Cleodys as well, for this sisterhood blossoming hesitantly between them again. Her father's warmth. Varielle's innocence. Aren's sincerity.

She remembers Nadia's words and for the first time she agrees with them rather than with the teachings of the council. Sometimes attachments are the only thing that make it worth it fighting for this world.

She looks upon the celebration starting below. Nedyr is about bravery, too. And forgiveness. And truth.

She knows what she has to do.

As Selyn steps onto the plaza that night, she is engulfed in a swirl of colourful, flowy dresses, candlelight, the mixed smells of a myriad of delicious dishes and music thrumming in her bones.

She knows Cleodys and the rest of her family must be here, too, but right now she isn't looking for them.

She is looking for Anakin, wondering if he got her note, anxious that he read and maybe chose to ignore it.

Selyn rises to her tiptoes, scanning the crowd for a sign of him, his robes, the sand-coloured hair. Minutes pass and he doesn't show up. Selyn begins to lose hope that he ever will.

"Well, screw you, Skywalker," she mutters frustratedly.

"And there I was, thinking you wanted to apologize."

She turns around, and there he is, brows raised, holding up her note. On the washed out paper there's her tidy handwriting, tall letters spelling: Fine. I'll apologize. Come to Nedyr tonight. The once-smooth paper is now crumpled, witness to how he turned the note in his hands, contemplating her peace-offering.

On the corner of his mouth tugs a smile. "I like the touch with the paper, very traditional, very...backward. You could have just sent a holomessage."

"It was trying to make an effort. A...gesture." She tries to snatch the paper out of his hands, but he yanks it out of her reach.

"Easy there. Can't lose cold hard proof of you actually apologizing to me."

"Fine. Whatever." Selyn rolls her eyes, leaving him this tiny victory. Because it's Nedyr. "But you're late. Where were you the entire time?"

Anakin grins. "In fact, I wasn't late. In fact, I arrived the same time as you, and I've been watching you looking for me the entire time. It was highly amusing."

"I'm really rethinking that apology right now."

He offers her his hand. "I'd prefer to hear it. Let's join the dancers."

"I'd rather not."

Anakin offers his hand again, waiting patiently for her to seize it.

Selyn hesitates briefly, but then she takes it. It is a night of celebration after all, the music is intense and luring her into that circle of dancers, the night air balmy and inviting her to get lost in it, and maybe, maybe, she really does want to dance with him.

The dance is a traditional cryllean one, where both partners are only joined by their hands raised to the level of their shoulders whilst their feet carry them in complicated patterns. She is glad that it is only their hands that are touching, for some reason she doesn't think she could bear his hand around her waist.

The music is beautiful and exciting, the bass thrumming like a heartbeat that all dancers align themselves to. Selyn feels as if she is swept away by a wave, leaving her body no choice but to become one with the rhythm.

"I owe you an apology, too," Anakin says. Selyn knows she should be the first one to apologize, but a feeling tells her to let him talk first. She's curious about what he has to say.

"I didn't want to overstep. It wasn't right of me, and I was desperate to prove a point. It doesn't matter what I think, it just wasn't my place to say what I said. I know you don't like to have your feelings revealed and that you like to keep to yourself, and I know you're cautious with who to trust-"

"I trust you," she interrupts him without thinking. Because it's true. She trusts him. And for some reason it's important to her that he knows that. "I trust you, Anakin. I really do."

He looks surprised. There's a look in his eyes she can't quite place as he studies her face with such intensity that she has to look away.

"You trust me?" he echoes.

"I do. And that's why I owe you an apology, too. You were right. I do have attachments, but maybe that's fine. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad for my strong bond with Nadia, I'm glad for this family I found again. I think the reason I lashed out like that was that I have never admitted to myself that in fact I am not a perfect Jedi. I can't be. But no one can."

He leads her into a graceful twist. "Any more attachments I should be aware of, then?"

This time when she answers she keeps her eyes fixed on his. "Yes. You. I'm happy to call you my friend again."

"So am I." There it is again. This look on his face, as if she has become a puzzle he firmly intends to solve.

I'd like to see you try, she thinks as the music rises and the lights become a blur of colour around them.

And then, a treacherous part of her heart adds: I'd like to see you succeed.

✧･ﾟ:* 𝕬𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘙'𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘌 *:･ﾟ✧

basically our boy's pov summarized😭

this guy has issues oml but HEY so do i 🤪🤪

THINGS ARE STARTING TO GET INTENSE YALL

buckle up bc the selykin hotness is just getting started hehehe

also I always enjoy writing Anakin so so much like ugh there's just something about writing a man's pov who is absolutely simping for some bad ass woman and my guy is down BAD 😄

anywaysss hope you're all doing fine and have a great day!! until next chapter <3

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