#like school

 Anakin didn’t expect to be woken before seven on Saturday - his first weekend with a new padawan no less - and he definitely didn’t expect to see his old apprentice when he, yawning and rubbing his face, finally dragged himself to the door at the incessant beeping of his doorbell.

Ahsoka stood with her hands on her hips, on foot tapping the floor impatiently. Bad sign.

“Snips,” he said, sliding down the doorframe. “What do I owe the… Displeasure?”

The foot tapping increased. Abort, abort.

“You,” she said with a powerful jab of a finger into Anakin’s chest. “Need to fix my padawan!”

Ah. Well. That wasn’t a surprise.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do,” he said, rubbing his face again.

“She thinks you abandoned her! I want you to talk to her and assure her that you still love her and tell her I’m waiting in the training room seven when you’re done, because it’s been a week of her sulking and we really need to start on the lightsaber forms!”

“But it’s Saturday,” he whined and immediately lifted his hands palm up at Ahsoka’s stormy expression.

“And that’s a reason to ignore your daughter?” She asked, making Anakin wince. “My padawan refuses to talk to me and it’s your fault! Talk to Leia, now! She’s in the meditation garden on the second floor.”

With that, Ahsoka turned on her heel, her head tails swishing around her, and started a determined, brisk walk down the corridor.

“Ahsoka!”

“Fix this, Sky-guy!” She only yelled back, the “or you’ll regret it” heavily implied, and disappeared around the corner.

With yet another yawn and a sigh Anakin returned into his quarters and began a hunt for clean robes.

Most of the time he was proud of the strong, determined, assertive woman Ahsoka had become. Most of the time.

Twenty minutes later, with sloppily tied robes and having made sure he left a message on Luke’s comm in case his son woke up before he made it back, Anakin was trudging down the endless corridors that made up approximately eighty percent of the Temple.

Truthfully, he knew he should’ve talked to Leia a week ago, when he claimed Luke for his padawan, and Ahsoka claimed Leia for hers with Anakin’s blessing. He should’ve talked to her a month ago, when he’d made the decision. But he was scared. Normally he would go to his old master with something like this, but Obi Wan has been on a mission to the Outer Rim for the past month. Normally he would also go to his wife, but Padme had departed to a long overdue visit to Naboo last week, and even if he commed her, she would only give him the Raised Eyebrow of the Doom, her parting words to him being: “Talk to Leia!”

He stood in front of the garden for a moment, convincing himself he was not scared of his teenage daughter, and then entered.

He found Leia easily, sat curled on the floor under a giant fern. Her back was to him and she mist’ve heard him approach, but she didn’t look at him, and so he took another moment looking at his daughter.

Anakin always loved the gardens. From the first moment he stepped into the Jedi Temple as a child, they were his favourite place. They were climate controlled, and always the perfect temperature, pleasantly humid and green, so, so green. He often thought his childhood spent in the desert was what resulted in his love for everything green. But Leia, raised on Coruscant and Naboo, shared the same innate delight in everything damp and alive, while Luke couldn’t care less.

It was that thought that finally made him lower his body next to Leia. She was his, in a different way to Luke, and she knew it. No wonder she felt betrayed. Ahsoka was right. He had to fix this.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Leia replied, sulky, but she didn’t ignore him. A good sign.

“A little snippy bird told me you’ve been ignoring your master. And your lessons. I thought you wanted to become a master of the Jar’Kai form by the end of the year.”

Leia only shrugged.

“Okay,” Anakin sighed. So it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Let’s try this. I will guess what’s the problem, and you nod your head when I’m right. You don’t want Ahsoka to be your master, correct?”

Leia slowly nodded her head.

“But you love Ahsoka!” Anakin exclaimed.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you’d just pawn me off to her first chance you get!” Leia mumbled into her knees.

“I didn’t pawn you off! Leia, you know if I could train you and Luke both, I would. I tried to bring it up with the Council, but they wouldn’t let me. I tried to get Obi Wan to take on Luke, but he straight up refused to train another Skywalker.”

Leia gave a little snort, but it was immediately followed by a sniff.

“But why did you have to pick Luke?”

Leia finally looked at him, and her big, brown eyes were filled with tears. That’s when Anakin knew he really messed up.

“Because Luke needs me more,” he said, truthfully.

It was a good answer. Leia’s nose crinkled in that way it always did when someone compared her to her brother favourably.

“But I thought we were a team,” she said.

“We are a team! Just because Luke is my padawan and you’re Ahsoka’s, I won’t stop training with you, and we will request as many missions together as we can.”

What he didn’t tell Leia was that another reason why he decided to train Luke was because Leia was too stubborn for him. Too wild. Too ambitious. Too much like him. He knew he would only encourage her worst habits - while Ahsoka could nurture them to bloom into something beautiful. Just as Luke’s more timid, sweet nature needed Anakin to push him and challenge him.

And Anakin wasn’t fool. He knew his children needed the best training and he knew who could provide it.

“Was there really no one else to train Luke though?”

“No,” Anakin said firmly.

There was interest, of course, in both of his children, but there were few among the Jedi Anakin trusted.

Leia sniffed a little again, but her eyes were mostly dry now.

“You knew this was going to happen for a while.”

Anakin sighed.

“I did,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” Anakin said honestly. “I didn’t want you to dread your padawanship. I didn’t want you to think with that, you will loose your family. Which you won’t,” he added firmly. “You know me and your mother will be still here for you.”

That was always Anakin’s priority, from the moment almost eleven years ago when he stood in front of the council and announced his and Padme’s plan for their children. And however hard it was to come to the agreements with the Jedi over the years, Anakin stood firm. He was determined for his children to have family, and he would move entire planets to achieve that.

It was going to be even more complicated from now on, what with padawans required to be by their master’s side at all times. For now Padme was going to take several long trips to Naboo, which needed its senator’s attention anyway, to give time for Luke and Leia to settle into the new situation without knowing their mother is five minute transport ride away and unable to go see her. And then there will be missions and they’ll be off-planet for long stretches of time anyway. And when on Coruscant, Ahsoka readily agreed to stay at Padme’s apartment so the Skywalker-Naberrie family could have some time together. They already set up a guest room for her.

That was one of the reasons why Anakin wanted her - or Obi Wan, or, ideally, both - to train his children. There weren’t many Jedi who would agree to such arrangement, and fewer yet Anakin would allow into his home.

“I know what people say about me and Luke,” Leia mumbled. “I think maybe they want us to hear.”

“And what do they say?” Anakin asked, resigned.

He knew what people whispered. The gossip in the Jedi Temple was relentless, but the always thought people would have the decency to be at least quiet around his children. Apparently not. But then, many Jedi were not as half kind as they thought.

“That we are a mistake,” Leia said, simple and cruel.

“You’re not..”

“But did you ever think it would be better if you and mum just ran away? Or… If you ran away from us? That it would be better, to not have children?”

Leia’s lip wobbled a bit, and Anakin’s answer came out fast and jumbled together in his haste to assure the girl.

“Never. Never, ever did I regret you. I promise you, Leia. The day your mother told me she was pregnant was the happiest day in my life, and I loved you both ever since,” he said. “I thought, we thought, long and hard about what kind of life we will live, and you will live, but there was never a question that it will be together, all of us. I thought for a moment to run away, as far from the Jedi as possible, but… You’re strong, Leia. You and Luke are so strong… You know that.”

And she did. His daughter didn’t lack self-confidence in her abilities, and Anakin’s frank admission was not going to blow her ego. Well. Not too much anyway.

“I knew you needed training, and I didn’t know if I could handle you. I didn’t know if I could give you the tools you need to handle yourselves. I knew you needed the Jedi. But that was a choice, Leia, I want you to always know that. You were never a mistake - you were always what i chose, and I keep choosing, and I never regretted this choice,” Anakin said as firmly as possible. “And if in the next five years, or after you’ve finished your training,” he gently pulls at Leia’s padawan braid, clumsily braided and so much longer than Luke’s, and she lets him easily, “of few years into being a Jedi, you decide it’s not what you want to be, and leave the Order to do something else, you will have had the option, and you will be prepared to do whatever you want, with the Force or not.”

That was the first thing Anakin demanded from the council all those years ago, in exchange for them to be able to poke their noses into his children’s lives. The promise that even if in childhood the Temple will control their power, one day it will become their responsibility. One day they will be free.

Leia’s eyes are big and trusting, and Anakin has never regretted the decisions that led them all here less.

“And if you hear people whispering behind your back again.. Well. You have a lightsaber now. You know how to use it. You will learn to use it better,” Anakin grins. “If you can’t get people to respect you, strike fear into their hearts.”

Leia grins back, sharp and a little dangerous and Anakin laughs, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in.

“See, if you were my padawan, I couldn’t tell you this. But as only your dad… I can continue giving you bad advice.”

Leia giggled and snuggled under his chin, and Anakin knows things will be okay.

He’s always known. Leia is so strong, so independent. She took up living in the crèche for the week few years ago with great enthusiasm, while it took Luke over a month to stop crying daily, despite Anakin visiting several times every day. She never hesitated to volunteer for interplanetary excursions, even if it meant sacrificing the weekend at home, while Luke never missed the chance to be away from the Temple.

“They don’t say these things about Ezra, though,” she murmured.

“Well, not to burden you any further,” Anakin sighed. “But as we’re being honest - don’t ever think that the moment you trip, initiate Bridger’s trips to Lothal will be over. You and Luke are something new, and you will always lead by an example. But that’s why we’re here, me and your mother, and Ahsoka and Obi Wan. To catch you before anyone else notices.”

Leia only sighed, deep and long, in a way older than her twelve years have any right to be.

“I’m also supposed to tell you,” Anakin said, changing the topic, “That your master is awaiting you in the training room seven. Time to hone those lightsaber skills. I thought you wanted to master Jar’Kai until the end of the year!”

“Right,” Leia grinned again, untangling herself from Anakin’s arms. “So I can strike fear!”

Anakin might’ve started something here that he might regret, but seeing Leia’s smile, he can only laugh. His little princess, all grown up ready to beat up people. He was so proud. Padme would be, too.

“By the way dad,” Leia said standing up and brushing off her robes, looking down at Anakin from the unusual height advantage. “I’m still mad at you, dad. I will be for at least two weeks.”

“That’s fair.”

“But. There are some things that could help me forgive you faster.”

Anakin gave up long ago on trying to deny Leia anything anyway.

“Like?” He played the game with a small smile.

“Like if you sparred with me tomorrow. And a lunch at Aboo’s. And a knife.”

“Hm, that’s all…- Wait a knife?!”

Without a word, Leia turned on her heel frighteningly reminding him of Ahsoka, and only threw over her shoulder as she disappeared among the plants:

“Gotta go, my master is waiting! Bye dad!!”