Warning: mentioned rape/non-con
After Zygerria, Ahsoka struggled to feel comfortable in her own skin.
It felt strange, to wake up every day and remember what had happened on that planet. The traumatic memories replayed constantly whenever she was awake, Atai's cruel smile vivid in her dreams as he hurt her and the other girls he owned.
Thus far, Ahsoka had not cried.
The reality of what happened in the Queen's palace hadn't sunk in.
Life had simply continued, like it was some fragment of her imagination that was horrifically graphic. There was no time to sulk and cry whilst so many others had been hurt and killed.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
She had never felt less peaceful.
Ahsoka was not someone who typically faltered in social settings. Togrutas were inherently social beings, feeling most comfortable in big groups. And yet, as Ahsoka stood at the top of the stairs, queuing to enter the Senate Gala, she wanted the ground to swallow her up.
The dress she wore wasn't helping. She trusted Senator Amidala's fashion advice, but it was the same colour as her horrific slave costume that Anakin had since disposed of, and the exposed neckline made her feel too exposed.
Perhaps it was simply too soon for her to be out in public.
It had been only a few weeks since Zygerria. She and her Master were supposed to be on respite, technically only allowed to return to active duty when they were cleared by a medic, but the Council wanted her to be a representative at this event, purely for publicity's sake.
According to them, seeing a female Togruta Jedi amongst high-ranking military officials and politicians would send a message to the Separatists that the Togrutas had been strong enough to survive the Zygerrians' attempts at enslaving the colonists from Kiros.
Of course, not every Togruta survived, but if it made a difference if Ahsoka showed her face in public, then she would suck it up.
"What are you wearing, Tano?" Commander Fox asked with a scowl, eyeing her up and down at the security point.
She tried to mock offence, but she entirely agreed. She wished she had turned up in her normal clothes. "This was Senator Amidala's choice."
"She's lost her taste." Fox muttered, "And her common sense, apparently, sending a Togruta into an event with two-hundred fully grown men in such an exposing statement piece. This is a black-tie event."
Ahsoka felt her jaw tense. Why would Padmé send her a dress that was entirely out of dress code, let alone personally violating?
"Is my Master inside?"
"Along the back wall," Fox jerked his head. "I'll comm him to say you're headed in."
Anakin had sensed Ahsoka's apprehension about this event since that morning.
He hated formals as much as she did, but this soon after Zygerria, he couldn't imagine how she felt to be the only Togruta in a room.
He was annoyed with the Council for trying to make a political statement with his Padawan. They were supposed to be on leave. Their presence here was entirely unnecessary.
He would much rather have spent the evening at Padmé's apartment, in her arms, although he knew he wasn't ready to be intimate with his beloved wife after his experience with the Queen.
He could still feel her fingernails on his back, like thumbtacks digging down his shoulder blades. Anakin tugged at the collar of his shirt as if it could relieve some of the tension. He hated suits.
Feeling anxiety flowing down their bond, Anakin turned to see his Padawan making her way through the crowd. She had her head down, purposefully trying to not draw attention to herself, which was difficult considering what she was wearing.
"Seriously, Padmé?" He muttered.
"That's not what I gave her to wear." Padmé stared with wide eyes at the aqua blue dress that exposed far more of Ahsoka's chest than Anakin wanted a room full of politicians to see. "I bought her a black dress, as a sign of mourning and respect. I've never seen that dress before."
Ahsoka made it to Anakin's side, pulsing pure fear down their bond. She met his eyes, and he could see how this entire situation was distressing her. They never should've come.
"Ahsoka, what happened?" Padmé asked, unaware of the wordless conversation between the Knight and his student. "Did you not like the dress I got you? Where did you get this?"
The girl's eyes widened with shock, "This was in a box in my quarters. It had my name on it."
Now, Anakin was concerned. The Jedi Temple was supposed to be a secure facility, every package had to be scanned and authorised before it could even enter the building.
Who the hell was sending his Padawan dresses like this?
"Ah, I see my gift made its way to you, Padawan Tano."
The trio turned, Anakin sizing up the Utapaun male who was currently staring at Ahsoka like she was a piece of meat. His protective senses were already tingling, his blood pumping with the urge to flee the event with Ahsoka tucked under his arm.
"Your gift?" Anakin repeated, barely restrained anger heavy in his voice.
"Merely my expression of thanks for everything young Tano has accomplished." The man grinned, extending a hand towards Ahsoka that Anakin wanted to smack away. "May I?"
Ahsoka looked paralysed, Anakin was worried that she was dissociating right in front of them. He was about to tell the politician to beat it, when Ahsoka shakily raised her hand.
The man took it in his own, smiling as he kissed her knuckles. When he dropped it, Anakin noticed her wiping the back of her hand on her dress.
Anakin placed a hand on the small of her back- both as a gesture of support and as preparation if he needed to pull her away in case the man intended to touch more of her than he was entitled to.
The effect on his student was immediate. Ahsoka sunk her weight against him, her bond pulsing with panic. She was trying not to falter, pretending she wasn't uncomfortable. Anakin pushed reassurance through the bond, non-verbally promising to protect her.
Padmé gave him an apologetic look as he introduced Ahsoka and Anakin to the man who so confidently thought he could touch a Jedi. A few other politicians formed part of the circle, their interest clearly set on Ahsoka.
It hadn't taken long for Anakin to realise that the only other 'tailheads' in the room were the Twi'lek servers. That made Ahsoka special. The dress only amplified her differences from everyone else.
Padmé made small talk, subtly positioning herself in front of Ahsoka. His wife was wringing her hands as she spoke, a nervous trait she reserved for the most uncomfortable situations.
Anakin kept an eye on both his Padawan and the Senator. He didn't like how the other politicians were looking at them, their cheeks flushed from overindulging in alcohol.
Ahsoka's head turned, her chin jerking upwards.
Anakin frowned. That was a silent gesture they had created to communicate when words weren't an option.
She wanted to leave.
"Relax," Anakin said very softly, only for her montrals to hear, "We'll be out of here soon."
"I don't like this," Ahsoka said in response, pushing further against her Master as if he could protect her from the dozen wavering stares fixated on her and the stupidly low-cut dress.
It made her feel like cattle waiting to be sold.
"I know," Anakin moved his hand to her shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance, "I don't either."
It was a busy event, and seemingly everyone wanted to hear about the Jedi's mission to Zygerria, as much as Ahsoka wanted to banish those memories to the bottom of her locker.
She forced a placid smile on her face as the Utapaun told the other politicians the details of their mission that were supposed to have been classified.
How he came across this information, Ahsoka didn't know.
"So, after your cover was blown, you remained in the palace?" One Senator asked her directly in front of a growing crowd. Even with Anakin on her left and Padmé half of a foot in front of her, Ahsoka felt incredibly anxious to be discussing the mission in such a social setting.
"Yes," she answered, trying not to break the stem of the glass in her hand, passed to her by a Twi'lek server who had a look of anger on her face.
She had practically thrust the champagne flutes into their hands, muttering Ryl under her breath. Ahsoka couldn't blame her. Twi'leks were even more sexualised than Togrutas, and here Ahsoka was- entertaining the same people who preferred to see their species on their knees.
"The Queen felt that I was not fit for manual slave labour."
"You were an ornament, then," another said, "Something pretty to be admired. That's not a bad placement for a slave without any experience."
Anakin tensed beside her, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ahsoka cast her Master a quick look, appreciating his support but also cautious that these politicians rarely cared to explain themselves. Whilst they were trapped in conversation with them, it was best to just nod and smile along.
This man did not see Anakin as a threat- which only confirmed his stupidity- and smiled. "Only that there were other duties expected of her. I hear they like the young, untouched ones the most. There's no point wearing them down in the mines."
"You sure know a lot about slavery," Anakin quipped back.
"As I was saying," he continued, completely oblivious to the Knight's growing anger, "Padawan Tano must have been very highly valued by the palace. I wonder, did the Queen intend to gift you to someone?"
Her stomach tightened, and Ahsoka struggled to keep a straight face. Amongst Padmé's apprehension and Anakin's anger in the Force, she could sense something else.
It was molten hot and made her skin itch. Ahsoka recognised the emotion almost instantly- she had sensed it whenever Atai got close to her.
This politician was feeling lust.
Ahsoka stumbled backwards in shock, bumping into Anakin's chest. Her Master had sensed it too because his expression shifted from irritated to positively fuming. His hand fell from her back, clenching into a fist at his side.
"Senator," Padmé was suddenly in front of both of them, acting as a barrier to stop the politicians from advancing (or to stop Anakin from throwing a punch, Ahsoka didn't know).
"The Jedi did not come to this event to be questioned about a classified mission. If you wish to learn more about their recent campaign, you can speak to Marshal Commander Cody about being granted clearance through the GAR head office."
Behind her back, Padmé flashed a hand signal that Ahsoka was familiar with in the field. She didn't know that Padmé knew the battlefield sign language adapted by the GAR, but her message was crystal clear.
Retreat.
She was vaguely aware of Anakin moving her aside, a protective arm around her shoulders as Padmé distantly made an excuse for their sudden departure. Ahsoka didn't know where Anakin intended to take her until she was met by the cold gusts of wind outside the gala.
Shivering, Ahsoka's teeth chattered from the cold or the impending panic attack. She hardly noticed Anakin taking off his suit jacket to wrap it around her, moving both of them towards the landing platform.
Anakin opened the door of the speeder, gesturing her inside, and when she was seated, he murmured, "Wait here. I'll be back."
He vanished behind through a nearby alleyway, their bond suddenly flooding with pure rage before he slammed up his shields.
Anakin was barely out of sight when his anger took hold.
He'd never let Ahsoka go near those politicians again.
He shouldn't have even let the Utapaun touch her, let alone the others make remarks about her time in the Queen's palace.
It was too soon for Anakin and Ahsoka to go out in public. He would definitely be having words with the Council the next day. After he told them that a Republic politician was lusting over his teenage Padawan, they should take him seriously.
He punched his flesh hand into a brick wall, and felt the pain prickle up his arm which hardly made a difference to the way he felt inside.
He couldn't explain how he felt when he realised the intentions of the Senator. It was disgust and rage all mixed together.
If Ahsoka weren't sat in the speeder, looking dazed and far too exposed, he'd probably have taken to tearing the Utapaun's head straight off his body.
He'd like to see the man in those horrible mines that Obi-Wan and Rex were forced to work in, not even deserving of proper food or fresh water after a long day of heavy labour.
He'd like to see the other politicians try to protect their children like his mother had to protect him.
He'd like to see them be coerced to be intimate with the Queen of the Zygerrian Empire.
Feeling his breaths coming out too fast, Anakin rested his forehead against the cool brick and tried to gain some control over himself.
"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me," he muttered, flexing his sore hand at his side.
He needed to be calm for Ahsoka. After everything she'd gone through, she deserved him to be composed.
He remembered his childhood, his mother begging him to not retaliate to Watto's moods. If the Toydarian wanted to beat him, Anakin wasn't supposed to fight back. His mother warned him that the consequences of trying to defend himself weren't worth it.
Once he was certain his head was clear enough to drive, he returned to the speeder, forcing a smile for Ahsoka who watched him wearily.
"Do you want me to drive?" She offered, probably fully aware of the murders he would want to be committing right now.
"No," he shook his head, barely hiding a wince when his wrist throbbed as he held the controls.
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure, my Padawan." He took another deep breath, forcing himself to release the negative emotions into the Force. "Now, let's find some dinner."
"I'm not hungry," she said, her voice small.
"You need to eat, Snips." Anakin pulled out into a lane of traffic, knowing the directions by heart to the closest takeaway that had a drive-thru option. He really didn't want anyone else seeing his Padawan like this.
If politicians had the nerve to lust so openly over a teenage girl, then what would low lives be like?
He stopped for food, ordering the same thing for Ahsoka and himself so she wouldn't feel pressured to make a choice. She was easy to please, enjoying anything meaty or fatty.
Paying for the large brown bag of greasy takeaway, he drove closer to the Temple, stopping in a speeder lot that he and Padmé had enjoyed many dinners in.
Ahsoka had lost weight, that was no secret. He hated seeing her so small, fearing that he'd break her bones if he held her too tightly. He suspected stress was the biggest contributor, combined with the grief following Zygerria.
So many hadn't survived, and had died hungry.
It was horrible- having to hand feed her a ration bar after the Governor of Kiros declared there would be a food shortage for the colonists when they returned to their home planet. Watching his Padawan struggle with survivor's guilt was torturous.
Silently, Ahsoka took the food that he offered her, an appreciative smile on her face.
They ate without talking, simply enjoying each other's company. Anakin was still mad about what happened, but he pushed those feelings aside for now.
Later, he would dwell on everything he could've done better to protect Ahsoka from the leering men and their perverted comments.
"I can practically see you thinking," Ahsoka said through a mouthful of food.
"Would you rather talk?" He offered, letting her decide.
She hadn't disclosed the details of her time in Atai's possession yet, and he vowed to not force her, but now would be a good time to get on the same page.
Ahsoka chewed on some more fries, slurping down the fizzy drink he'd gotten her (because he knew she had a bit of a sweet tooth) and looked at him.
"He called me Blue." She said, starting off strongly. "I guess it was the first way to show power over me. Give me a name based entirely on my appearance and refuse to call me anything else."
She huffed a dry laugh, "I should've called him something worse, but I quickly learnt that he didn't appreciate my attitude."
She lifted one of her lek, the marks of a shock collar still visible despite fading. Anakin resisted the urge to reach out and touch the reddened skin.
"He had loads of girls in a hidden room. It was down a set of stairs, probably in the basement." She frowned, her eye markings creasing in thought. "I think he drugged me to stop me from knowing how to escape. I'd feel lightheaded and then wake up in a different place."
"That must've been scary," Anakin said, getting chills just from imagining it. "Did he hurt you?"
She tried to hide her shuddery breath, but he noticed it.
"He did," her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Probably not as bad as he could have hurt me. He dislocated my shoulder when I first came to, the closest I got to escaping."
"Anything else?" Anakin pressed lightly, forcing himself to remain calm.
Ahsoka's nod was meagre.
Turning to face her entirely, Anakin cleared his throat. He recognised the shame floating down their bond, so similar to the embarrassment he had felt when Obi-Wan asked about his time in slavery.
"It's very hard to admit when someone's hurt you." He told her, reciting what Obi-Wan had said when he first came to the Temple. "But you know you're not in any trouble."
She stared at him, her eyes going a little glassy.
She put her half-eaten tray of food on the dashboard, and Anakin had already decided to not force her to eat any more than she could. This type of conversation required mutual respect.
"He didn't rape me, or even assault me- technically." Ahsoka winced, "But he did masturbate over me. He ejaculated on me, but that was it."
Blinding anger fired through him, though Anakin tightly pulled it under control. He'd like to go to Zygerria to rip Atai's head off his dead body, then cut off his limbs and burn whatever was left, but Ahsoka needed him here to listen and support her, not to start planning revenge.
"Snips," he said her nickname softly, "Forcing you to participate in sexual acts, even if you weren't actively involved, is still assault, okay?
"What about being forced to watch?" Ahsoka asked in a whisper.
Anakin frowned, "Watch what, little one?"
A tear broke past her defences, sliding down her cheek. It was stained black, evidence that she had put makeup on before going to the gala.
"He made me watch him rape one of the girls. He said that it was my punishment. Two of his guards held me in place, one twisting my arms behind my back and the other making sure I kept my eyes open. It was so horrible- I don't think I'll ever forget it."
For the first time, Anakin didn't know what to say.
How did he even get his head around that?
It was suddenly understandable as to why Ahsoka had seemed so neutral about her time in the Queen's palace. She had witnessed something so traumatic that she was literally unable to process it properly.
Until now.
Anakin was already thinking about how he could help her through this. He knew he couldn't support her on his own. She needed a Mind Healer, someone trained to help her process this trauma.
He would definitely need to speak to the Council.
Ahsoka shouldn't be expected to carry out any Jedi duties whilst dealing with something like this.
"I think the worst part was the screams." Ahsoka carried on, eyes unfocused. "It was the most terrible sound, like a wounded animal you see in those charity adverts, but worse. I didn't even think it was possible for someone to make a noise like that."
"What happened to her afterwards?"
Kriff, his voice was weak.
Ahsoka inhaled and exhaled.
"He didn't kill her. I think it was part of the punishment, letting her live. She didn't blame me for any of it, even though I tried to apologise."
"Hey," he caught her attention, "there was nothing you could've done."
"But we're Jedi." She blinked, wiping her eyes quickly as if she was ashamed by her own tears. "Aren't we supposed to stop things like that from happening?"
"We aren't omnipotent. People will always harm others, even if we try to stop it."
He would know. The sensation of his mother's dying body in his arms would never really fade.
Ahsoka looked up at him at last, "What do I do now?"
He shrugged, "You go day by day, take your time to process it." He wanted to reach out to her but didn't think it would be appreciated. "I want you to see a Mind Healer. I can support you, but I can't work through this with you. It doesn't make you a bad Jedi to need help."
"It feels selfish." She admitted, "I- I don't even know what happened to her, and I'm the one who gets to just move on?"
He knew exactly how she felt. The guilt of leaving his mother and every slave on Tatooine whilst Anakin got to sleep in a warm bed with three square meals a day was hard to navigate as a child.
He'd asked Obi-Wan how it was fair, and his Master hadn't known how to respond.
Some things in life just weren't fair.
"It'll get easier," he said- because at least he knew that was true. Over time, the pain wouldn't hurt so bad. "You just need to take it slow."