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She’s not surprised he’s back, he’d said as much before she’d nearly sent him to his death and he’d shocked her until she couldn’t see straight. Her cage rattles as it’s pulled back from over the edge, the slimmining vicinity between her and the monster catching her breath.
Fear runs deeply through her as his intentions fly from his person, the sleemo is salivating at the thought of putting his hands on her and the teen holds back a growl that would surely turn into a whimper if it escaped her throat.
Especially as the red buttons charges under his thumb, sending bolts of electricity through her body until her legs are jelly beneath her and his bruising grip on her arm is the only thing keeping her afloat.
Ahsoka doesn’t know where he’s leading her but it would seem it was away from prying eyes. She’s a little surprised he wasn’t going to do this in front of an audience yet she’s also extremely grateful.
The teen doesn’t know when she started shaking, but now as she continues to wobble, debating if she should let her legs drop out from under her; she doesn’t know what to do. Instinct roars she fight, self-preservation pleading she kill him here and now, mission be damned.
Except...then the mission would be jeopardized. The lives of innocent people would be jeopardized and it would be all her fault. What would the council want her to do? Was she expected to let this bastard have his way with her? Was she expected to give herself up? Swallow her pride? How much is she supposed to give for this war?
Ahsoka didn’t know, she didn’t know what to do. What would Anakin want her to do? He’d likely want her to save herself, being the protective man he was, he'd likely even defend her from the council if they really were upset.
Her thoughts blur as she’s shoved to the ground, and she can’t think, can’t decide. Tears well up in her eyes as weight settles over her and on impulse she bites. Fangs extending as she lurches forward, teeth digging through fur and flesh until there is blood pooling through the gaps of her teeth and down her chin.
There’s a sick resistance as flesh breaks off in her mouth and the body above falls to the side, grasping at his torn open throat as he dies. Rolling as far away from the body as she could, Ahsoka spit up the flesh and blood with a heave, tears leaking down her face; distress radiating from her signature. Enough that she feels Anakin’s brush of concern against her shields immediately, Ahsoka doesn’t have it in her to respond, that putrid fear that she’d potentially done something wrong filling her gut.
She’d ripped Atai’s throat out, a completely savage primal act that she could only assume leaned more closely to the darkside than cutting down someone with a lightsaber did. Purposefully she heaves, again and again in the hopes of ridding the metallic taste from her mouth as she pulls herself up from the floor.
A familiar beep keeps her from stumbling too far, how R2 had found her she didn’t know but she wasn’t complaining as she crashed to her knees. Hugging the metallic dome as the droid revealed her sabers; chirping lowly to comfort her distress, it’s enough to get her moving.
Using her shoto to remove the collar around her neck, the togruta sniveled, trembling with repressed rage. The mech warbles, and Ahsoka listens as the force orders her to stay put.
Help was coming, her master was coming. If he was upset by her actions at least R2 would be there to ward him off. If not he’d help quell her frantic nerves and hopefully give her his cloak or something, this bloody and revealing outfit making her itch.
“Ahsoka!” Her name is shouted out, the fact that he’s not calling out his usual endearment is daunting. It’s likely because he’s worried. The girl doesn’t budge from her spot, flinching at approaching footsteps, one set louder than the other two.
Admittedly after her scare she didn’t want to be held, except when Anakin’s arms and presence encompassed her she wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. She adjusted in his arms accordingly, his chin sitting between her montrals as she buried her face against his throat.
His pulse is quick and she feels nauseous, her earlier actions replaying in her mind. She doesn’t feel as shameful as she supposes she should.
“Ahsoka?” he asks softly as a stifled gasp from behind hits the air. His head turns instantly, brushing over the tips of her montrals, and he immediately spots her earlier transgression.
His hold on her tightens and a wave of...pride overcomes their bond. Her chest immediately feels less tight and it’s the most comfortable feeling in the world. Anakin’s fingers pet approvingly over her stripes before she’s lifted into his arms. He’d almost forgotten Togruta were known for their bite, what a hellish reminder.
The council says nothing about the encounter, their work had been done and they cannot say a thing about the violence a fifteen year old had displayed in the face of bodily harm. Especially not with Shaak Ti looking to them scornfully, letting them know they’d been wrong to ask a former slave and his togruta padawan on such a mission.
Shaak Ti or Aayla Secura likely could have handled things better and the pair vow for the sake of their younger ranks they’d brave the debilitation if the need arose again.
When Shaak Ti exits medbay, having insisted on talking with and checking in Ahsoka on her own, Anakin and Obi-Wan are waiting just outside the doors. The ginger man was pale yet cared for and the stress lines crossing the chosen one’s face made him look years older than a normal man his age should.
The togruta master senses their weariness, locking onto them with violet eyes before she tilts her head in the slightest, “It’s always a shame when missions get out of hand. It was wrong of the council to ask this of you, of her,” it’s not what they're expecting her to say. In fact Obi-Wan looks startled, affront, her slight at the council shocking him. Anakin has a similar look, feeling undermined even though he does agree with her.
The subject changes rather quickly then, Shaak Ti smiles, wider than they’ve ever seen revealing devastating fangs they'd never actually seen. Would Ahsoka's grow that large? Anakin finds his throat bobbing at the thought, another wave of pride crashing over him.
“There’s an urban myth that a togruta’s bite is filled with venom,” she laughs, “Many still believe it, it scares them more than the bite itself. Their mistake,” The two men watch the regal togruta fearfully, forgetting just how terrifying she could be.
“She’ll need some time, assurance as well. What happened was jarring, and as much as I tried to explain to her that her response was normal; I fear she’s ashamed and it’s a great dishonor that the council has allowed any of the padawan’s feel that they shouldn’t defend themselves. I fear this war is making us ask too much, especially of ones so young,” the woman frowns, looking despondently back towards the door hiding the young togruta being looked over by the healers.
Her eyes turn back, piercing Anakin’s soul, “Help her and help yourself as well,”
Ahsoka’s head rested heavily against her master’s shoulder, his hand tentatively running over her back lek while she sniffled. Listening dutifully as her master rambled on about how he never wanted her to sacrifice her well-being for a mission. She nodded minutely, their bond strengthening. Effectively banishing the thought that no matter how crudely she did so, she was never wrong in defending herself. No matter the fallout he’d be there, she believed in him.