I had carried him into the Temple, the little sleeping bundle in my arms. The usually awake and irritating and jubilant boy was slumped with his head to my shoulder, drooling on my robes from a new angle. Soon he would be too big for me to do this with ease. Mace had greeted me with a perplexed look and in whispers I explained that Reaper's had been on our trail. He gave me a sage nod and suggested I get some rest. That I fully intended to do but resting is not an easy activity when Anakin is near.
I lay him down in our apartment, feet first to the large bed as I drape his sleeping form across the mattress. He is unresponsive, little mouth slack and eyelashes tickling his somewhat chubby cheeks. He looks almost nothing as he did when I first met him, all rounded face and hair that looked like his mother had simply given up in despair and cut it with a bowl around his head. Now his Padawan braid fell just to his shoulder, brushing against his robes angrily each time he shook his head at me in annoyance, which was often.
I stroked my hand along his soft yet short hair and he squirmed away from my touch. I knew how to take a hint and so I pulled away. I departed for my own bed, falling into an uneasy sleep despite my exhaustion. My ears listened for any sign that Anakin was in distress and I began to question if the Universe was against my taking him to the gardens in the first place.