A Beauty and the Beast AU where instead of an animal hybrid Anakin is cursed to be in pain and marked as having used dark powers (by his horns) until someone loves him and tells him. Anakin remains in a fixed version of his suit at the end of the fic.
Read under the cut or on AO3 [ here ]
Once upon a time, there was a little town of Naboo. It was a quiet town, full of easy going people. Surrounding them was water all around; Naboo prided itself on being the most beautiful town in the Republic because of it.
Padmé Naberrie loved her little town, but she wanted to leave to join the Senate. Naboo was too small for her; she’d already been elected Queen for two terms, and outside that she could do little for Naboo politics. Monarchs would listen to her advice, of course, but it was merely that: advice.
So Padmé wrapped herself up in a cloak and kissed her friends goodbye. Sabé tucked a rose into her hair for safe passage, and off Padmé went. The little town of Naboo faded quickly behind her boat. Soon, she was across the waters. Whatever territory she had entered, it was much colder than Naboo. Snow covered the forest floor. Pulling her cloak closer, Padmé set out to find shelter for the night.
The first place she came upon was a castle, towering high into the sky. Padmé knocked on the door. No one answered. Trying again, Padmé knocked harder.
Still no one responded.
Padmé turned away to find somewhere else to stay. On nearing the exit of the castle grounds, she spotted a rose garden. Touching the flower Sabé had given her, Padmé changed direction. Roses were her favorite. A smile grew on her face as she took in the vast amount of reds and yellows. Padmé didn’t think she had ever seen so many, Naboo filled more with rominarias.
She leaned in to smell one, curling her hand around its petals. Out of almost thin air a hand grabbed her and twirled her around. Her attacker demanded to know what she thought she was doing. Unafraid, Padmé answered she was enjoying the flowers on her way out. Smelling roses wasn’t a crime.
Her statement got a startled laugh from her attacker. He let her go and instead offered his arm for her, inviting her in for dinner. Wary, but needing shelter, Padmé looped her own arm through his. The inside of the castle took her breath away; it seemed bigger on the inside than the outside, elegant lines and furniture much more square than the curved lines of Theed Palace. Padmé stood in awe for a moment at all the space.
Dinner was an excellent affair with more than plenty for two. Padmé and her host laughed over lighthearted small talk, and once the fire dulled, she was led to a lavish bedroom on the second floor. Padmé smiled as her host bowed to her at the door and kissed her hand. His parting words were to tell her that she had to be on her way as soon as dawn broke.
Padmé settled in for the night, placing Sabé’s rose on her nightstand. The bed was luxuriously soft; she fell asleep in mere moments.
When she woke, Padmé smiled at the memory of last night. She redid her hair in the beginnings of light from the window. Dawn was slowly slipping away, and Padmé ran her fingers along the walls of her room. Why must she leave so early? Why couldn’t she stay longer, enjoy more conversation?
Padmé waited in her room until it was well past dawn. Curious, she walked down her hall and then back towards the dining room. The sounds of talking drew her in, and Padmé pushed open the door. Immediately the room turned to silence. Her host from last night looked disappointed. That who stood beside him with no face and Sith horns oozed anger, and Padmé struggled to not stumble back in surprise.
Foreboding black stood easily more than a head taller than her, a sleek cloak a stark contrast to the protruding mess of broken metals and wires. Little sparks flew dangerously from what were elbows and fingertips. In the silence of the room, harsh fabricated breathing registered in Padmé’s ears.
Gasping, Padmé stepped forward. She was met with a temper matching those from fabled volcanoes in her youth; accusations of thievery like last night were flung until her host rested his hand on a broken arm. The storm faded just as quickly as it had begun. Raising her head, Padmé demanded an apology. How dare a host treat a guest this way?
Embarrassed shame led way to breakfast, Padmé seated at the head of the table while her new host fretted over her pleasure. Obi-Wan, her host from last night, alternated between fascinated watching of his master and talking with her once again. Apologies for not warning her of his master were waved away after Padmé raised a brow. Anakin was proving to be a marvelous host; Obi-Wan shouldn’t have worried, Padmé told him as Anakin tripped over himself to refill her glass.
Breakfast led way into a tour into a castle, and then it was time for lunch. She still hadn’t seen the library, so Padmé looped her arm through Obi-Wan’s and followed Anakin. The three of them tucked into the little nook of the room, the rich voice of Obi-Wan wrapping around them as he read a long forgotten treatise.
Soon the day melted into another and more still; Sabé’s rose had to be laid to rest in the garden. Yet Padmé stayed. Anakin was awkwardly charming, and he had started to be less shy around her. Obi-Wan almost seemed to shed some of his years, his smiles even more flirty now and his touches on Anakin more lingering. Every dinner they stopped whatever individual activities they were doing to dine together. Padmé greatly enjoyed their company.
She was reading about the great negotiations of the beginning Republic when the first hint of emptiness hit her. The grounds of the castle were no longer buried in snow, and Padmé watched as the breeze gently blew the grass blades. A full season had passed. And here she was, only a step closer to being in the Senate.
Padmé brought it up over dinner, a beautiful meal painstakingly made by Anakin. She grabbed his wrist – she always had to be careful not to get shocked from his hands – and slid her fingers through Obi-Wan’s. Smiling, she started from the beginning, from her home in Naboo. The Naberries wanted the best for her. Padmé was placed in the top class, and she just kept growing until she reached the top: monarchy. And by the gods, she had loved the rush it had given her. The politics, the law, the debate.
Now, she wanted to pursue it again in the Senate. A voice for Naboo in the Republic sphere, not just in her town. The atmosphere in the dining room got sadder, but Anakin’s metal stayed at his happy temperature and Obi-Wan didn’t go quiet like he does when he’s upset. They only asked what they can do to help her.
Obi-Wan sat and poured over cultural texts with her; the library here was larger and more inclusive than the one in Theed. Anakin stood behind her and critiqued her on weak spots the corrupt could use against her. By the time Padmé deemed herself ready again, her cloak pulled tight around her, she was loathe to leave.
But she couldn’t be happy without at least attempting a seat in the Senate.
Her hand was pulled up for one more kiss by Obi-Wan – until next time, he murmured. Anakin’s broken fingers cradled a wooden necklace which he dropped from up high into her hand – he couldn’t shock her through this, and hopefully she’d remember him when she sees it. Shaking her head, Padmé tied the necklace around her neck. How could she forget him?
The journey was long. Finding shelter every night grew tiresome, and Padmé was fatigued upon finding Coruscant. But she made it.
Padmé settled in quickly. Bail Antilles and Mon Mothma became fast allies, and she apprenticed under numerous senators. Her workload was often enough to drive her straight to bed once she finished. Before she even knew it, another season had passed. It was time to return to Naboo for election.
Sabé kissed Padmé the most enthusiastically once she returned, another rose waiting for to be tucked behind her ear. Laughing, Padmé held her close and let the rest of her friends shower her in affection. They all curled into Dormé big bed to catch up and begin planning her campaign.
Naboo’s election was won by a landslide. Padmé felt her pride blossom in her chest, and her heart pained when she curled her fingers around Anakin’s necklace. If only he and Obi-Wan could have been here with her.
The castle grounds were once again coated in snow when Padmé returned. Her cloak was wrapped around her, a familiar weight, as she pushed open the castle doors. She wandered through the halls, re-familiarizing herself. At this hour, Obi-Wan was tending the back garden while Anakin was likely napping.
A swell of affection surged through her when the book in Obi-Wan’s hands dropped at the sight of her, sparks freely shooting from Anakin’s various wires. He ran to her to wrap her in his arms, only just stopping himself. Padmé smiled at him and grabbed his wrist. Obi-Wan walked up beside Anakin, his hand easily sliding to Padmé’s waist.
Dinner was held by a raging fire. Anakin vibrated the whole time; Obi-Wan kept shooting her extremely pleased looks over their conversation. Padmé missed them terribly. When the fire dimmed, its flames licking pathetically, she stood from her chair. She used the surprise – they tended to never get up before the fire truly died – to grip Obi-Wan’s hand tight and catch Anakin off guard to press her lips to his mask.
She loved him. She loved them both.
Something changed in the room. Padmé felt breathless from it, and Anakin radiated fear. His usual sparks exploded; his breathing quieted. Sith horns disappeared into thin air. A face was now visible under the mask. There was no more shattered metal, no more open wires. Where there were jagged edges there were sleek lines.
Anakin’s living apparatus looked more like a suit instead of a broken down prison.
Crying, Anakin gripped Padmé tight. He thought he’d never get to hold anyone again. Obi-Wan quickly wrapped himself around Anakin, and Padmé cradled Anakin’s head to her. The three of them stayed that way until he calmed down, long past the time the last ember in the fireplace died.
Life changed both drastically and not at all. Anakin took every opportunity to touch Padmé and Obi-Wan. He insisted on cooking every meal, and he ventured out onto the castle grounds. But still Anakin announced himself when he entered a room. He still curled himself around her the same cautious way until Obi-Wan or herself rearranged him.
By the time Sabé’s rose died, the signal that she had to go to the Senate, Padmé didn’t want to leave. She’d carved a home here in the castle. Laughing, Anakin pressed his forehead to hers as Obi-Wan wrapped himself behind Anakin to hug the both of them. Maybe, this time, they could go with her?
Anipunzel: Something That I Need, A Star Wars Remix of Tangled/Rapunzel. Read under the cut or on AO3 [ here ]
Both Anakin and Obi-Wan are trans
Once upon a time, on a planet where the suns blazed hot and the sand buried its people, there was boy and his mother. The boy was powerful; inside his veins ran the power of the Force. His mother didn’t know this power by name, but she knew.
She knew that her boy wasn’t like her. He wasn’t like anyone.
The mother did her best to raise her boy in secret, but it was no use. He was nova bright, and their little planet couldn’t hide him. When the day came that a thief overtook her own strength, she pleaded with her boy to survive anyway he had to. His power was his own.
The boy was taken from his planet of ruin and death. The thief dragged him to a world of artificial lights, of glitz and glamor the likes the boy had only heard in fairytales. It was the only time he saw it; the thief stole him for his power, and to use it the boy didn’t have to be free. He was locked up in a skyscraper, the thief only visiting him to siphon his powers to rejuvenate himself by chanting and running his old hands through the boy’s hair until wrinkles turned smooth.
So the boy grew into a man, alone and isolated, his hair uncut and long like winding rope. Ani read all he could get his hand on, and he drew vast pictures, and he fashioned clothes, and he dreamed of the day he could escape. The skyscraper was locked in a way he hadn’t figured out how to crack, and he couldn’t leave out the window without certain death. His long locks couldn’t touch Coruscant’s ground, only enough length to pull his jailor up from a speeder lane.
Ani was trapped.
One day, as he was drawing the blazing suns and ruthless sands of his home, there was a crash on the lone veranda. Immediately, Ani grabbed to himself a thick datapad; he could throw it and knock whoever it was out at a distance.
On the veranda was a speeder. It looked like it was still functional, and Ani raised his datapad as he stepped closer. This was a ticket to freedom, a blessing from above; he wouldn’t let it be stolen. The driver stumbled out of the cockpit, and Ani hesitated. They looked disoriented.
Ani called out, told them to tell him what injuries there were. The driver looked up at him, confused. Once they noticed the datapad held threateningly, they raised their hands. In their eyes was amusement as they said they meant no harm. They had no injuries to report; a little crash, nothing to worry about. If they could check onto their ship?
Shaking his head, Ani lowered his datapad. He demanded that to recompense for the damage to the veranda, they had to drive him away from here. The driver laughed and throw up their hands. It was, however, a deal.
Ani shook in excitement, veins glowing inside him. He stepped closer to the speeder, running his hand along it after tucking his datapad under his other arm. Finally he was free. Smiling bright, he held out his hand to introduce himself.
The driver was Obi-Wan, and he shook his head at Ani. He checked his ship, Ani trying to absorb as much as he was doing as possible. After the damage check, Ani climbed into the cockpit. Obi-Wan followed behind him. He was muttering about Ani’s eagerness, but Ani ignored him.
Obi-Wan was incredulous when Ani said he had no clue where he wanted to go. Defensive, Ani told him that he had never left the tower since he was locked into it; excuse him for being a prisoner. Obi-Wan didn’t apologize, but he offered to show Ani around the interesting parts of Coruscant. Ani happily accepted the offer.
Bouncing in his seat, Ani soaked up the little tidbits of information Obi-Wan gave him as they speed in the sky. Upon landing, he followed Obi-Wan, gazing amazed at all the traffic on the street. He grabbed his companion’s arm when he turned to enter a building. The inside assaulted Ani’s senses. There was so much noise, and the smell of food nearly knocked him over. It had been so many long years since Ani had gotten so much sensory input.
Obi-Wan walked to a table, Ani’s hand still on his tunic. Giving him a look, Obi-Wan told him that he had to let go so they could sit. Wasn’t he up for a bite to eat?
Vigorously nodding, Anakin dropped into the seat opposite his companion. He kicked his feet excitedly after Obi-Wan ordered, and he rested his head on his hand. Ani asked Obi-Wan to tell him his favorite food, and he kept asking Obi-Wan questions until their plates arrived. Once they did, he dug in messily; it was easily the best meal of his adult life.
After, Ani happily skipped to the speeder. He eagerly asked where they were heading next. Obi-Wan smiled softly at him, and Ani grinned. His excitement was rubbing off. Teasing, Ani asked what he had to do to get a full smile, one with teeth?
The rest of the day pasted in a pleasant blur. Ani felt his heart beating and creating a fire like suns in his veins, the easy camaraderie Obi-Wan had started to offer him the spark. He softly smiled as he watched his companion drive them to their last destination. Ani was going to miss him, and it had only been a day. Never in his life had he felt more powerful and in control of himself, no master stealing it away from him.
Obi-Wan pulled up to the most elaborate building of the day. Ani stared up at it in awe; it faded into the Coruscant sky, a dragon stretching its wings. Grabbing Obi-Wan’s hand, Ani dragged him in. Beings in the most elaborate dress milled inside, and the halls sang with how decorated they were. Ani stopped, a gasp escaping him.
They were in the Senate Office Building.
Ani laughed, and he let himself be led by Obi-Wan deeper into the building. Several senators and staff nodded greetings to them, curiosity clear on their faces upon gazing on Ani. Upon prompting, Obi-Wan explained that he had a little celebrity. Ani teased him all the way until he saw his former jailor walking their way.
Fear seized him, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. Ani pulled his hand out from Obi-Wan’s. He stood up tall, the hair on his head glowing as his power leaked from him.
The thief did a double take when he realized who he was walking towards. Certain that he knew who it was coming for him, Ani barreled towards him. He punched him, and his veins burned as the thief started fighting back. Screams sounded around them. Ani paid no heed as he did his best to destroy the man who stole his life away.
His hair was pulled out of its braid, the long locks cascading to the floor. Planning to go in to break something as he heard the beginning of a chant, Ani was yanked back. It was Obi-Wan. He had a question in his eyes, and Ani answered by grabbing what hair he could and throwing it at the thief. The heavy weight pushed him to the floor and forced breath out of his lungs, chant hanging unfinished in the air.
The next few moments were a blur; Obi-Wan seized the thief, and soon Coruscanti police were taking him away. Murmuring and gesturing at Ani, Obi-Wan waved them off. Ani watched as his jailor was led away. Numb, he reached for Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan slotted their fingers together.
Obi-Wan guided him back to the speeder, Ani’s long, glittering hair trailing after them on the floor. A gloved hand was placed on his face. Obi-Wan asked if he was alright, and soon Ani was spilling the horror the thief put him through, words cutting his mouth.
Ani was breathless, tears on his face, once he finished. Obi-Wan was horror struck. He vowed that the thief would pay; the jury would not let him escape his crimes. Gripping tight onto his companion, Ani buried his head between shoulder and neck. For tonight, he just wanted to stay with Obi-Wan and stop thinking about the thief.
The two of them climbed into the speeder, and Obi-Wan took Ani home. He stayed throughout the trial, and he stayed after. Ani only meaningfully left once he tugged Obi-Wan’s hand, a grin on his face and his glowing hair wound in marriage braids.
