Obi-Wan's incessant scolding stemmed from an almost failed mission two months ago. A group of Coruscantians had been kidnapped and held hostage, and all Anakin had to do was get them out through the secret tunnels of the bank while Ahsoka caused a distracted for the robbers. Ahsoka, of course, fulfilled her role flawlessly, and was commended by the Council for her success.

Anakin, on the other hand, was not.

It isn't that he's bad at his job. Rescuing people is practically second nature to him. It's the 'being comforting' part that he finds difficulty with. He was crude, blunt and rushed with the hostages, many of them even going so far as to send holos of complaint to the Council. He wasn't even that bad with them; he was just short on time and maybe a little peeved that Ahsoka was assigned to the more fun part of the mission.

Obi-Wan is adamant that Anakin needs to try and socialize with people who aren't members of the Order or politicians. Professionalism and stoicism is an indicator of wisdom and experience in their line of work, and Obi-Wan is undoubtedly proud of his ex-Padawan for demonstrating those qualities so fluently- but Anakin also needs to develop skills for the outer galaxy.

Social ones, to be more exact.

Anakin isn't happy at all. He begrudgingly makes his way into the city center, where the Coruscant Library sits tall and proud. Holding back a grimace, he takes a deep breath before walking in.

Obi-Wan suggested that, in order to understand regular people, Anakin needs to understand their culture. So he assigned him some homework: reading up on popular literature. This is step one of Obi-Wan's plan to make Anakin the perfect socialite.

When he enters the library, he's disheartened by how busy it is. Deciding to forgo the 'Ancient Romantic Literature' and 'Scientific Comedy' sections, he walks up to the second floor. Finding it to be a bit quieter, he goes up another floor, and another, and another, until blissful silence awaits him.

Ah. Fifth floor, you beauty.

He counts barely three people spread around the floor, each of them with their heads buried in books. Looking up at the signs, he sees that most of this floor is for books about anatomy and medicine.

Not exactly the popular literature Obi-Wan recommended, but it'll do.

He mindlessly strolls through the bookcases, running his fingers over the spines that look the softest. A few titles catch his eye, but nothing makes him stop.

Until he sees you.

You love working at the library.

Okay, maybe 'love' is a strong word.

You like working at the library.

Let's try that again.

Working at the library is like rubbing a wound in bacta liquid; necessary for your survival, but not exactly enjoyable.

It started off as a way to make some extra pocket money while you studied to become a lawyer, but when those plans fell through (because Coruscant Law turned out to be a lot more intense and detailed than you thought), you ended up working here full time.

The bills were paid, you ate enough to survive, and the unsocial hours don't really affect your unsocial life.

That doesn't make it any less boring, though.

Your boss, Ms. Kyve, uses the fifth floor as a sort of punishment for employees who either aren't working to the best of their abilities and efforts, or who she just doesn't like very much.

You have been assigned to working the fifth floor every day for the past year.

Today is just another sluggish day at Coruscant Library. Nobody speaks to you, beside one customer who asks if he can use the staff toilet (the answer to which is a hard 'no'), and you spend most of the day putting the returns back on the shelves.

Anakin thinks your cheeks look softer than the spine of any book he has so far felt. He watches you curiously, his eyes flitting between your face and your hands as you place each book from the basket back onto it's designated shelf.

When you turn around and walk back out of the aisle, he's immediately disheartened. Shamelessly, he lingers behind you, following you around the library. He isn't sure what he's waiting for, or if he's waiting for anything at all, but for now all he knows is that he is absolutely enthralled by watching you return the books to their homes.

When you reach the 'Ewok Anatomy' section, you let out a long sigh. The last book you need to shelve belongs right at the top, and you know from previous experience that this will be practically impossible for you to do.

You don't fail to see the irony in a book on Ewoks being put so high up, but right now isn't the time for laughing. Maybe you'll save this funny story and use it as ammunition later in life; an ice-breaking anecdote for one of the dates your roommate keeps forcing you to go on.

Taking a deep breath, you are determined to get this job done. You will not allow Ms. Kyve any reason to roll her eyes or berate you, like she so loves doing after a long shift.

You take the damn book and stand in front of it's damn bookcase, looking up at the top shelf. There's a perfectly shaped gap where the book belongs. This is fine. You can do this. Just stand on your tippy toes, reach forward, and slide the damn book into its damn slot.

Admittedly, Anakin cannot help but be amused by the sight before him. A look of concentration grows on your face, sewn together by furrowed brows and pursed lips. You stand on the edge of your toes, hold your breath as though that will somehow help, and stretch your arm out as much as you physically are able to.

Which, as it turns out, isn't much at all.

A squeak leaves your throat as you reach up, gasping when you feel the edge of the book touch the edge of the shelf. Just a fraction further... You try pushing it forward, but you end up just slamming the book against the bottom of the shelf. Hunching over, you catch your breath, your free hand clenching into a fist.

Before you can start thinking of all the other ways you've failed in life, and how the fact that you can't get a damn book on a damn shelf is really just a metaphor for your lack of success and ambition, you hear someone clear their throat.

You turn to the left to see a beautiful man standing there, which makes you frown.

Beautiful men don't come to the fifth floor.

"You alright there?" He asks with a shiny glint in his eye and a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Oh God. Mr. Beautiful totally just saw you fail to reshelf a book.

"Fine," You reply casually, fanning yourself with the thick book.

Anakin thinks your voice is lovelier than he could've predicted. The fact that you're calling him 'Mr. Beautiful' in your head is only boosting his confidence as he steps closer to you. "Need some help?"

You almost scoff at his question, but you feel small under his gaze. "No, thank you."

"Okay," He accepts with a nod. "Well, once you're done putting it back, could you give me a tour of this place?"

You inwardly curse, but keep a polite smile on your face. "Of course, Sir." Is he purposely doing this so he can continue to watch you struggle? Raising your brows at him, you shrug. "I could just give you the tour now. I mean, this isn't exactly a time-sensitive task; I could do this later."

"Oh, please, don't let me interrupt," Anakin says, before leaning against a bookcase. "I'm in no rush."

Somehow remaining politely jolly, you nod. "Thanks. I guess I'll just... put this book back, now."

Anakin nods, "Go ahead."

You swallow thickly before turning back to the bookcase. There's a dent in the book cover where you smashed it against the shelf, and you're determined not to let the same thing happen again. With a deep breath, you get back on your tip-toes and stretch your arms as much as possible.

He watches you while trying to hide his smirk, his heart warming at the view. Anakin wasn’t expecting to feel so happy at such a simple thing, but watching the concentration brew on your features is making his heart thud.

The book hits the shelf again, making you wince. You do your best not to show that you’re actually putting effort in, but it’s hard when you’re huffing and clenching your jaw. You squint and bite down on your lip, getting as far forward on your toes as possible, but it just doesn’t work.

You don’t notice him walk closer until you feel his hand wrap around yours. Gasping, you turn back to see him standing right behind you.

“Need some help?” He repeats his question from earlier, a much more amused and smug look on his face.

With a sigh, you give in. “Please.”

Anakin smiles warmly before taking the book from you and placing it on the top shelf with ease. You swoon slightly when you feel his chest press against the back of your head, and shiver at his towering stature.

“Thank you,” You mumble, turning around to face him.

“I think you owe me one,” He says, making you frown up at him.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to help you put any books onto high shelves,” You joke, letting out a soft laugh.

Anakin chuckles and rests his hand on the shelf above your head, making your heart skip a beat. “In that case, how about you let me take you on a date instead?”

You’re taken by surprise, but you have no time to hesitate. “Sure. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He smiles down at you, delight dancing across the blue ocean in his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Anakin.”

Pfft. Anakin Skywalker needs to learn how to connect with people?

Stupid Kenobi.

•

You snorted and playfully hit his chest. "You idio- actually, sure. Why not?"

Anakin turned on his side, with widened eyes. "You really would?"

Your eyes remained on the starry sky above you. "I once heard my mother say that the only reason she can get up every day to rule the planet is because she has her best friend by her side." Turning to Anakin, you smile fondly. "She was talking about my father. And one day, if I was to marry, I’d want it to be to my best friend, too."

"You can't go marrying anyone else then," Anakin said with a small grin, leaning his head on his hand. "You've basically promised yourself to me."

"I have done nothing of the sort!" You said with a laugh.

"A princess' word is her bond," He claimed with raised eyebrows. "The throne will be mine!"

"Mr. Skywalker, I'm afraid your lust for power has driven you insane," You said playfully as you laughed softly.

“No; my love for you did that,” Anakin admitted, taking your breath away.

In moments like that, it was easy to forget just how different you and Anakin were. A slave turned Jedi Knight, and a spoilt Princess born with a silver spoon in her mouth. But that didn't matter to either of you. You were best friends, and it meant nothing that you each led incredibly different lives.

But the differences became painfully difficult to ignore once your mother became one of the voices discussing the war, and Anakin became one of the soldiers being sent off to fight it.

Three years.

Three entire years of no communication with Anakin. Three years of going to bed terrified whether tomorrow would be the day you'd be told he was killed in battle. Three years of waking up to news that the war raged on yet.

It was gradual. Your parents planted the seed early on, watering it and showing it sunlight just enough so that you wouldn't be completely thrown when they ordered you to marry Venn.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You had plans, though they were hopeful and juvenile, to spend the rest of your life with Anakin. Nothing romantic had even had the chance to blossom yet. He promised you that, once the war was over, he'd come back to you. That you'd tell your parents about your plans to marry. And you promised him that, even if they refused, you'd run to the ends of the galaxy to live with him forever. You didn't need to be a queen; you just needed to wake up every day knowing you had the support of your best friend.

But, he said, a coronation is the most important event of any future Queen's life.

Why then, does today seem so dull? Why are the fresh flowers already beginning to wilt? Even the wine doesn't taste as sweet as it usually does.

You know why. It's because any minute now, while thousands of Nabooans watch, you will officially be crowned as their Queen. This isn't how it’s supposed to be. These aren't your people. If you were going to rule a planet, it’s only right that it be Alderaan.

All is fair in love and war? Well, this feels damn unfair. Love; King Venn knows not the meaning of. Your new husband is cold, entitled, and cruel. War; it kept you and your best friend apart. You doubt that Anakin even remembers you after all the time that has passed and all the horrors he's likely had to face. 

Nothing is fair in love or war.

Another commotion has broken out in the palace. There have been commotions all morning, as though the walls of the building themselves are aware that what's happening isn't right. That something is off.

"Your Majesty," Your handmaid calls out from the doorway of your bedroom, in which you've been sitting silently for the past twenty minutes. A small smile grows on her face. "It's time."

•

There’s a dull ache in Anakin’s chest. It has been there since two weeks before the war ended; the day he learnt of your marriage to King Venn. He almost died that day because he was so distracted.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

He was going to come right back from the battle and propose to you; he made that decision a year into the war. The ring he bought from a jeweler on Corellia has been burning a hole in his left pocket for the last two years.

The dull ache is ignored when he has a mission in mind, though. Four days ago, the day after the war ended, he flew straight to Alderaan to find you. 

“Where is she?” He boomed, making your brother jump. Anakin bound through the courtyard, determination on his face. “I need to see her.”

Your brother shook his head, confused. “Why are you here, then?”

Anakin stopped-mid step, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean? She lives here, does she not?”

Swallowing thickly, your brother eyed the lightsaber handle tucked in Anakin’s belt before taking a step back. “She- she got married, Anakin.”

“I know that,” He seethed. “So, where is she?”

It seemed that, after ignoring anything that anybody said about you once he heard the word ‘married’, Anakin had missed out on an important detail.

“She’s on Naboo, of course,” Your brother answered. “With her husband.”

That was a terrible day for Anakin. Almost as bad as the day he find out you were getting married. The feeling was so gut-wrenching, so heart-breaking, that he had no choice but to fly to Naboo. He needed to see you. He needed to hear your voice. 

And now, here he is, creeping through the halls of the palace. He threatened one of the butlers into telling him where your room is, and now nothing stands in his way.

You stand up, preparing yourself to make your way down to where the people of Naboo are awaiting your arrival. Eager to witness the coronation of their new queen. The door swings open and you sigh, ready for your handmaid to scold you for taking so long - but it isn’t her.

It’s him.

You almost collapse when you see him. His hair is longer. “Your hair is longer.”

Anakin smiles, though it’s a sad one. “Yours is shorter.”

Shrugging, you bite your lip. “You always loved it long, so it reminded me of you. Made me sad.”

He walks further into the room, each step causing your heart to thud even harder. “How have you been?”

“Forget me; you’ve just been fighting a war,” You say with an incredulous laugh. “How are you, Anakin?”

For a second, he allows the trauma of the grief, bloodshed and violence to show on his face. But as quick as it comes, it’s replaced with a smile of reassurance. “I’m absolutely fine, darling.”

You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress. “It’s my coronation today.”

“I know,” He whispers, looking you up and down. “You look- you-” He can’t bring himself to say it and looks down, the emotions hitting him harder than he thought they would. “You’re married.”

Your heart cracks, and you swallow back a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” He says through shallow breaths, still looking down. “None of this is your fault, princess.”

“But I promised,” You cry, feeling a heavy weight on your chest. “I promised that it would be you. That it would be us. I broke the promise.”

He takes a deep breath before walking over to you and taking your hand in his. “The thing about breaking things, is that there’s always a way to fix them.”

You meet his glossy eyes, still in disbelief that he’s really standing in front of you. “I don’t want to be queen. Not of this planet, and not of any planet if it means that I can’t be yours.”

“Do you still mean what you said, all those years ago?” He asks, swallowing thickly before continuing. “That you’d travel to the ends of the galaxy to be with me?”

“Yes,” You say almost instantly, meaning it with ever fiber of your being. “No matter what, Anakin.”

“So, come with me,” He proposes, making your eyes widen. “Let’s get away from here.”

“But...” You let out a breath. “The King - my marriage-”

“It doesn’t matter to me that on this planet, you’re married to him,” Anakin begins. “Because out there, wherever we escape to, that won’t matter. We’ll belong only to each other.” To your shock, he pulls out a ring, much more beautiful than the one that sits on your finger now. You immediately rip off the one that Venn gave you and allow Anakin to instead slip his on, and it fits perfectly.

The thought of his suggestion makes your heart soar. “Okay. Yes. Let’s go.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his eyes welling up as he tightly grips your hands.

“Yes,” You repeat firmly, nodding fervently. “There is nothing I want more than you, and I’d give up everything else to have you.”

“Okay,” Anakin rests his forehead against yours. “Then let’s give everything else up.”

The distraction he told Artoo to create has gotten a little out of control, which works in your favor. While your in-laws and the staff rush around trying to figure out how everything has gone wrong, you pack a bag of your essentials and Anakin brings his ship up to your balcony.

By the time you’re out of your big dress and into a much more practical outfit, Artoo meets you in your room and the two of you make your way onto Anakin’s ship.

He grins when he sees you, helping you pull your bag up and closing the door behind you. The last thirty minutes have felt surreal, and you’re convinced that you’re about to wake up at any second to find yourself in bed with your husband. 

But you never do.

“The galaxy seemed so much smaller when we were younger,” You comment mindlessly while Anakin flies you out of Naboo, nowhere in particular charted on the map as you haven’t yet decided where to go.

"Because nothing much mattered,” Anakin replies, glancing over at you with a smile. “Besides you and I.”

“They all lied to me,” You mumble, looking out at the stars.

“What do you mean?” Anakin questions, a concerned look on his face.

Turning to face him, you answer. “My whole life, people would always tell me that a coronation is the sole most important event of any future Queen's life. But for me, it wasn’t.”

“What was, then?” He asks.

Your cheeks heat up, but you don’t feel embarrassed to admit what is true. “The day I met my best friend.” The day the Jedi visited Alderaan, and an eight-year-old boy lagging behind the other Padawans found himself sneaking away to paint the walls with a princess.

Anakin reaches a hand out to you and you happily take it, making him smile warmly at you.

“I think I was wrong. I didn’t give up everything to be with you,” You tell him. “You are everything to me. The things I left behind? The power, the pretty dresses, the status? They’re nothing.”

“You trying to make me blush?” He asks, but one glance at his pink cheeks tells you that you’ve already succeeded.

You pull his hand up to your lips and place a sweet kiss to his knuckles. “You know, you’re gonna have to fly the whole way, because I don’t know how.”

With a smug smirk, Anakin squeezes your hand and chuckles. “Well, luckily for you, I’m the best pilot in the galaxy.”

🌈

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