#sithxreader

“Supreme Chancellor, what would you have us tell the cabinet advisors? Many of them are expressing displeasure with your decision to postpone the meeting of treaties in the coming week. Some of them have conveyed concern towards your intentions to sway the vote. Shall I make arrangements to meet-“ The advisor trailed off into silence when the Chancellor held up his hand to summon him to hush.

“Do what you must to silence their complaints.” With a dismissive nod and wave of his open palm, Palpatine watched as his advisor left his suite and the doors shut behind him. He turned then to his chair and placed himself primly in its dark cushions with a curious smirk on his aging features.

Normally, he was careful to uphold his peaceable demeanor as Chancellor, but he could spare no time in this instance. Something, or someone, had set a disturbance in motion across the energy of the Force.

It had been weak at first, like a small ripple at the edge of a still pond. But as ripples often go, though small they may begin, they expand and spread until the stillness of the water is disturbed and put out of balance until it laps the shore, unsettling the fine dust and crumbling rock at its edge. This shift was beginning to feel much the same.

He had felt something peculiar, something swelling and festering; anger founded in the loss of love – of rejection.

Palpatine pulled the hood of his robe over his head until it shrouded over his eyes and blocked the light from his vision. He silenced every sensation around him, channeling every thought towards this growing darkness. His eyes morphed beneath the shadow of his robe until they burned with a bright red and yellow glow. His skin aged as he grappled the tether of the Force’s energy and clung to it with a dominating presence until he felt its source within his grasp.

The source was close; not close in the sense of distance, but in the sense of knowing.

Palpatine recognized this energy, this internally pure soul – for he had known her for some time. Not personally, not like he had begun to know Anakin, but in passing, enough to identify her.

“Not as strong as Anakin,” his smirk grew into a wide sneer as he pressed the tips of his fingers to each other, “but she would make a perfect pawn in ensuring his turn to the Dark Side.”

 “(Y/n)!” The voice of the man who had brought Anakin to Coruscant many moons ago echoed in your ears with stern allocation. Qui-Gon Jinn was calling to you. “You mustn’t give in to your anger! Do not trust your feelings; they will betray you!”

Your gaze fell to your hands as his voice faded almost as quickly as it had come.  They were clasped tightly onto the hilt of your glowing saber, trembling with unadulterated adrenaline. “My feelings?” you whispered, “I mustn’t trust my feelings…”

You lowered the saber and took in a deep breath, closing your eyes to the flickering light of the blade and the temptation that came with it. Your thumb caressed the switch as you evened your intake of air and envisioned the path ahead of you; calm and illumined. The anger began to dissipate at its very edges, sifting away like sand falling through the cracks on one’s fingers.

The warming temperature of your skin began to cool as you identified the displacement of your emotions and began to organize your thoughts. You felt the faintest sense of peace as you willingly attempted to assuage the darkness from-

“NO!” A dark, sinister voice boomed from the recesses of your mind and yanked you from your meditation. Your eyes opened wide from the shock of such a gruff voice. It was raspy and foreign, but it felt familiar somehow, as if it were the culmination of every dark deed ever done, of every stray thought that had ever tempted you. Its origin seemed to pull from the hidden corners deep within you where you had locked away every ounce of anger and hurt and every inclination to the Dark you had ever felt. “Use your anger! Let it fuel your power!”

“Power?” You murmured. You were suddenly inquisitive of the idea of strength and its potential remedy to the hollowing expanse of your suffering.

“Yes! You have been betrayed by your closest ally and friend; the one whom you love. Do you truly think that recessing how he hurt you will resolve the rejection you feel?”

But Anakin is my friend! He didn’t mean to hurt me.

He doesn’t know that I love him.

“But love is a weakness, is it not? Look where it has gotten you; rejected and overcome with pain, left with only ruin and misfortune. Even in his ignorance, he forsook you. What does that prove to you about the ways of Jedi? What protection has the Force given you so far?”

 “Trust in the Force, (Y/n), and it will guide you. Do not give in to your hate! Your hope is stronger than your anger! You have life outside of this feeling of loss. Do not allow your mind to be seduced!”

The calm and assertive tone in which Qui-Gon spoke to you pulled you back into the beckoning folds of the Light. You didn’t want to be seduced, nor did you want to become weak and unable to control your own feelings. Was this not what you had pledged your life to? 

Denying the Darkness and identifying her as the seductress she was, ensnaring strong minds in their weakest moments? You didn’t want that fate to become yours, did you?

You felt the core of your being begin to tear in opposite directions, plagued by the fear of failure and the hunger for your hurt and anger to be realized. You wanted to be good, to instill peace and hope in world you lived in and in the hearts of the beings you encountered – but what of the raging storm that had begun to defile your spirit and strip it of its natural desire for the Light?

 How were you supposed to find solace when you could tell no one of the forbidden attachment you had clutched onto your entire life?

“What can you trust, if not your own feelings?”

That gravelly tone pierced your soul as they entered your thoughts. A sudden wave of doubt and stunned realization flooded your mind, unfurling a torrent of destruction and unkempt emotions. You felt the edges of your very existence, the laws and codes upon which you were trained, begin to fray at the edge like a splitting rope.  

 Your yell pierced the air with an aggressive strain as you twisted your body on one foot, pirouetting gracefully on your toes. With every ounce of anger and brokenness you could project, you brought your weapon down with you. The glowing blade of your saber flashed as it made contact with the wide column to your right, singeing its minerals and splitting it in half. Quickly, you jutted to the side and turned on your heel, bearing your saber down once more through the column on your left.

You watched as the upper portion of the columns slid forward until the weight of their momentum tipped them into a horizontal position, sending them both crashing into the railing of the balcony. Small chards of marble and stone scattered around your feet. The left column was only seconds behind the first you had cut down. The massive columns plummeted dozens of feet into the waters of the lake that framed the palace courtyard below.

As they broke through the surface of the freshwater below, those once calm waters reacted violently, spraying in every direction with harsh motion. Mist sprayed the edge of your balcony and dotted your toes with its moisture. The carefully crafted railing that had been crushed under the column began to crumble further as some of its debris followed the columns into the water and was swiftly followed by a substantial portion of the balcony floor itself. 

You steadied your balance as it crumbled away and what remained of the balcony split in thick cracks like a lake of splintered ice. With widening eyes, you glanced down at the destruction you had caused. A distorted feeling of guilt and shame welled within you. The thrill of aggression and released tension began to wither as the shame of it sunk into your bones.

Beneath your heaving chest, your lungs panicked for air, demanding that you settle the adrenaline racing through your blood – but you couldn’t stop. And although its indulgence filled you with a dense feeling of sickness, you craved more. It was like the tempting flavor of those sweet pastries you would convince Anakin to conceal in your robes after evening meals as children.

The moment you had tasted one during dessert, you needed as many as you could to fulfill your craving for them into the night. You would stuff your faces full of the delicacies in the hours after your masters had left you to retire to their own quarters for the night, expecting you both to be asleep, when in fact you were running through the courtyards and finding glowing insects beneath stepping stones marked for meditation, dipping your dusty toes in the cool fountain water, and allowing Anakin to teach you some of the games he and his young friends from Tatooine would often play.

Those memories, those precious pieces of your life, no longer comforted you to remember.

They hurt. They ached.

They set your veins ablaze with a wild rage you had never felt before.

And with it came an avalanche of guilt.

You saber hummed maliciously at your side – its sound seemed no longer harmonious with your being. You could sense its energy had shifted ever-so-slightly. Whether by truth or imagination, you felt that your wrath had tinted its blue glow. The shift was blind to the eye, but you could sense it. Small and tiny it may have been, the fragment your dark will had forced upon the kyber crystal in your weapon, but significant enough to be felt.

How could one act of defiance and aggression cause such a shift?

“Yes! Feel the power grow within you! Let your anger fulfill your yearning for vengeance!”

The voice returned with a malicious pleasure in his speech. It sent shivers through your body.

You had done something to please the darkness within you - and you hated it.

You yearned to hear Qui-Gon’s voice once more, but it did not come. You had shut him out with your act of self-satisfaction. Fear twisted inside of you, knotting your nerves and thoughts together in chaotic disarray.

“Vengeance? I don’t want vengeance!” You spoke aloud, feeling as though the voice were no longer in your head, but surrounding you. You felt a dark presence draw nearer, but you did not want it. You didn’t want any of this. “I just want him to love me! I don’t want to lose him!”

“Power is the only path you have left! You have already given in. There is no going back.”

“No! I can fix this! I can enter the trials!”

“The trials? You think subjecting yourself to those pitiful tests the Jedi keep would secure your place in the Light after this? You think they would let you?”

“I didn’t hurt anyone. I can pay for the damages!”

“Have you forgotten the hurt you inflicted on him?”

You swallowed hard as you remembered the hurt expression that had come across Anakin’s features with perfect clarity. You had hurt someone. You had hurt Anakin.

“I-I can still undo this,”

His cruel laughter echoed in your ears.

“You can’t undo a lifetime of rebellion.”

There it was. That was why your unkempt temper had caused such a change, even in just one act of frustration and violence. You had been rebelling against the code your entire life. You hadn’t been without Anakin since you were a child - and the attachment, the devotion of feeling and companionship, had been there every day since.

“I can learn to let go.”

“Then you are satisfied to lose him! To watch him pledge his life to another! All while knowing your devotion meant nothing to him.”

“N-no-”

“You will watch him slip away before your eyes and into the arms of another. He will embark in a life you will never be a part of. And when his children are born, you will grieve every day knowing you did not carry them, that the blood that flows in their veins will not be yours,”

“That’s not true-“

“You will live your life in regret and anguish, watching from afar! From here, your paths diverge forever,”

“No! I can’t lose him,” tears spilled from your eyes as you clutched your stomach and knelt to the ground, weakened by your sorrows, your saber distinguishing as it clattered to the ground, “I can’t lose Anakin!”

“Then seize your anger and control your own path! This is the only way to ensure that your paths remain forged of the same destiny. This is the choice you must make.”

“But is it right choice?”

“It is the only choice.”

Silence fell as you felt the overwhelming weight of every fear, every regret, and every tender affection you had ever felt for Anakin.

A lifetime of friendship and love that all amounted to nothing. He was in love with Padmé, the girl queen who had managed to meet him only days before you, and had somehow managed to enrapture his young heart within that precious time. All before you had even had a chance; before you had been able to exchange that first inquisitive glance, before you had been asked to make him feel welcome, before he had become your one and only attachment and your fondest hope. Before he had become everything you had ever wanted, all wrapped up in one beautiful person.

And now you would spend your life missing him, waiting and hoping, wishing and regretting.

Unless you took your destiny into your own hands and swallowed it whole - devouring its tethering pull and reining it back with your own desires.

You could have Anakin. You could have a life together.

But at what cost?

A sob escaped your lips as your torment multiplied. You felt disgusting. You had given in so easily. What did that say about your strength? Your power?

This wasn’t the code and the life you had so learned to love, and yet this attachment, this now-growing resentment, had tainted your view of it in a matter of seconds. The dark was just as seductive as your masters had told you, if not more when attached so personally to you.

Your breathing shallowed and quickened as you pressed your hands to the cool marble floor. The drops of your tears plodded heavily by your fingers, as if they weighed a great deal. In a way, they did. In them was every emotion you had bottled up, every longing hope, every twinge of hurt, and the drowning feeling of rejection.

You yanked your gaze up from the blurred marble when an urgent communion of voices echoed suddenly from the courtyard below. You heard their urgent questions and envisioned their conflicted stares and pointing fingers.

It would only be minutes before the royal security forces arrived in droves to inspect what had been done – and even less for the visiting company of Jedi to arrive, the company in which your Master was a part of.

Another curt release of your weeping leapt in a quiet cry from your body as you pictured Mace Windu’s thwarted expression when he would see the destruction you had caused so willingly.  He would be disappointed with you for your failure to resist the temptation and recognize the seduction as it came to you. He had been a hard master and a determined instructor, and often times knew little of expressing empathy, but you desired to please him in your path to follow the Light. Your bond, though rocky from the start, was significant to both of you.

He was your master, your teacher, your example.

How would this make him feel? Would it hurt him? Would he mourn your failure?

“Is someone up there?!” One of the voices from below shouted and interrupted your flow of thought and grief.

Were you supposed to answer? Did they know you were there?

“Hello! Is anyone hurt?”

Did you dare attempt to conceal yourself and recede back into your quarters? Were you to hide yourself away until they realized who had done it?

You sucked in your breath and stood slowly, cowering enough to not be seen from the crowd that congregated below. You gazed down at your saber from where it had landed, unsure of whether to take it up or leave it where it rested.

“Take it. You may need to defend yourself against the Jedi.”

Without thinking, you snatched up the weapon and turned quickly into your quarters. You hurried around and fumbled through your drawers, gathering a satchel full of necessities. Quickly, you latched your belt back around your waste and picked your robe up from the floor, as well as the boots you had thrown haphazardly across the room. You slipped into them, tightened the satchel across your body, and twisted the knob of the door that led into the corridor.

You halted there – the door cracked just enough to let warm light from the marble-clad hall shine in a streak across the leather of your boots. You sucked in a tight breath. Your eyes fell to the saber in your hand that you had been persuaded to take with you.

To do what? To hurt the people you loved?

To defend yourself against whom – Anakin?

Master Windu? Master Kenobi? Padmé’s royal guards?

You had never felt so confused in your life – or so alone.

What am I doing?

Your thumb grazed over the bolts and subtle grain in the metallic material of the hilt as a thousand fears roamed freely in your mind. Doubt seemed apart of you now. Had your failure been imminent since the day you had welcomed the boy from Tatooine into the temple?

“A lifetime of rebellion”, the voice had said.

That didn’t only mean one thing. It meant a lifetime of white lies denying any and all attachment; it meant that each day you stepped out against the code when you put Anakin before your every thought and action; it meant that your path hadn’t been true. You couldn’t be a Jedi now; not after your love for Anakin had woven itself into your very fiber. You couldn’t separate yourself from that now, from him - not for anything, even if you tried.

And did you even want to try?

The sinister voice you heard was right; there was no going back from this.

You hadn’t just decimated a portion of the palace out of sheer anger – you had spent every day of your life loving someone you were forbidden to attach yourself to and acting on that emotion.

And to think Anakin might still want you? To risk so much for such slim hopes? He had already pledged his heart to Padmé Amidala. There was no room in his heart for you…so what was left?

Your grasp tightened around the knob and you pulled the door open. Your boots fell silently in the hall as you fled to the stairs, hoping to escape before anyone saw you. It may have been cowardly of you, but you didn’t care anymore. You were afraid - and running seemed the only solution.

  Anakin was halfway through his second helping of dessert when the wide doors of the dining hall swung open and a small group of the palace guard came into view. The captain who stood ahead of their troop, one which he recognized, scanned the room briefly before his eyes settled on Obi-Wan and Mace Windu. Anakin swiped his lips clean of crème and watched with curiosity as his Master’s posture stiffened.

“This can’t be good,” Obi-Wan mumbled, dotting his beard with his napkin. He pulled his long legs from under the table and over the wooden bench seats, preparing to stand. Mace Windu followed his gaze and stood with a stern gaze fixated on the approaching guards.

“Master Kenobi, Master Windu,” the captain bowed briefly, “there has been an incident in the southern wing of the palace. Senator Amidala has requested your presence immediately.”

“What sort of incident?”

“Part of the palace has been destroyed, sir.”

Obi-Wan and Mace Windu exchanged perturbed glances.

“Destroyed? Are we under attack?” Anakin interjected.

“Hold on, Anakin,” Obi-Wan cautioned, “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“It would be best if you just followed us, sir, all three of you.”

Anakin followed a step behind his master and listened intently to the stray details that were being subtly exchanged between the captain and the Jedi masters. He was never one to pay much mind to detail or direction, but he thought the southern wing of the palace might be were his and the other padawans’ quarters were located, including yours.

Obi-Wan’s concerned tone worried Anakin – his master was never one to get unnecessarily excited about things. He wondered if this incident might have anything to do with the disturbance he had sensed during the main course of his meal. Anxious haste quickened his steps as concern for you plagued his young mind.

Were you alright? Had you been hurt?

  “My goodness,” Obi-Wan Kenobi breathed, “What happened here?”

“Obi-Wan! Anakin!”

The voice of Padmé Amidala drew the attention of all three Jedi who had come promptly to the gardens below the southern wing. She quickened her pace to approach them as they drew nearer, picking up her satin skirts to step over the rubble. Shock and confusion were evident in her features, as well as a certain twinge of anger. Who would have done such a thing?

Anakin swallowed hard as he took in the scene before him. The balcony above them, which had crumbled under the impact of the falling columns – which were now half-sunken into the lake’s shallow bank waters - had crushed the greenery of the courtyard and littered stone path at his feet. Puddles of water had begun to drown some of delicate plant life and some flowers had been robbed of their pedals from the sharp spray of water.

“Senator, do we know what caused this destruction?” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, gesturing with an upturned palm towards the sight in front of him.

“There’s still speculation about what happened, but we’re almost sure that someone intentionally compromised the integrity of the columns up there,” Padmé pointed to the balcony that had crumbled into the gardens.

“You mean someone did all of this,” Anakin’s gaze fell over the mess of water and marble rubble around him, “on purpose?”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“That’s why you’re here,” Padmé’s expression became grim, “I need you all to look at something.”

Anakin nudged pebbles of polished marble into the grass with his boot as he followed closely behind Obi-Wan. Something felt familiar about this area; almost like an imprint of some kind. They each followed Padmé through the open corridor and up the same set of stairs you had fled through a half hour prior, though none of them knew so. When they approached the hall of rooms that was known to house several padawans that frequented Naboo alongside their masters, they each felt unease at what Padmé was about to show them.

Her nimble fingers grasped the knob of one of the doors she approached – and Anakin’s heart dropped. He recognized that door – the one he had followed you through on numerous accounts in the last few months, the one you often hid behind when you felt insecure, the one he knew the grainy pattern of well.

He said nothing as Padmé opened the door and led them inside, hoping beyond all reason that he was wrong. When he stepped through and laid his eyes on the subtle disarray you had left in your panicked escape, he was sure.

Obi-Wan’s stern gaze fell upon the clothes that hung out of open drawers, the untouched bed, and the closet that had been ransacked by the looks of it. Mace Windu followed his friend’s thoughtful gaze with a frown of disapproval at what he saw.

He promptly followed Padmé through the sheer curtains that billowed and out onto what remained of the balcony. It was evident that Mace did not feel what Obi-Wan did – a familiar impression, like he knew someone here, but couldn’t quiet pin the sensation to a name. He kept his observation to himself as he followed his fellow Jedi outside.

Anakin stopped by the white ochre dresser and pulled out one of your tabards you had left behind. Beneath it, he saw one of your old scarves folded neatly. He recognized the subtle pattern of green flora embroidered along pale blue stripes. It was something he had given you nearly seven years earlier from a market on another planet. He marveled at the memories that flooded his min. You had kept it all these years…

Anakin stared at the cloth in his hands as he neared the balcony where Obi-Wan’s voice mingled with Mace Windu’s as they spoke to Padmé.

“Look at these scorch marks,” Obi-Wan was saying, tracing his hand along the perfect cut along the stump of marble.

“The mark of a lightsaber, by the looks of it.” Mace Windu speculated.

“These are (Y/n)’s quarters,” Anakin breathed. Obi-Wan stopped where stood and turned to face his padawan with a questioning expression. Mace Windu bore a look of stern frustration.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I had to be sure, but I’ve been in here with her before,” Anakin’s thumb traced over the thread in the scarf, “And I found this in one of the drawers.” He handed the delicate piece of fabric to Obi-Wan, who inspected it with careful contemplation. He looked to Anakin for an explanation.

“I gave it to her during my fourth year as a padawan, when we went to the markets in the lower levels of Coruscant for the first time. I had no idea she kept it this long.”

Obi-Wan could sense the confused pain emanating from his padawan. It brought a sad smile to the man’s features as he handed Anakin the scarf and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Anakin. I’m sure there’s a reason for all of this.”

“I, for one, plan to have a talk with my padawan. I apologize, Senator, for the destruction she seems to have caused here today,” Mace Windu’s gruff tone made Padmé feel guilty. She had no intention in blaming you of all people, knowing what Anakin had told her about you being a tender person – especially when they hadn’t any solid proof that it had been you rather than an outside party. “I just don’t understand this! It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We don’t know if it was (Y/n), Master Windu,” Obi-Wan corrected politely, “It could have been an attack for all we know. Has anyone seen her?”

“No one made mention of her when they told the royal guard of the incident.” Padmé added.

“Then we must remain neutral in our accusations before pinning any blame on the girl.”

“Skywalker, would you mind having a look around the palace grounds for my padawan? I don’t feel like being patient for answers today.”

Anakin glanced to Obi-Wan for approval, who nodded promptly. “Go ahead, Anakin. See what you can find out.”

  Your heart pounded in your chest as you peered around the corner into the main hangar of the Naboo palace. The place was nearly empty, with only a couple of service droids hunched over engines and huddled by work benches, pittering away at parts and projects. With a deep breath, you straightened your posture and entered the hangar, clutching your satchel to your side. You desperately hoped you were asked no questions by any droids roaming around – you had never been skilled in the art of hurried lies.

You glanced around the hangar in search of a suitable ship while maintaining your most inconspicuous mannerisms. Being a padawan meant you did not have a ship of your own, especially not while visiting another planet. There were starfighters available at home on Coruscant for training maneuvers, and you had flown your share of them in excursions, but you had never had a ship of your own.

Quickly enough, you spotted a small freighter docked in the rear stalls. There were no droids hovering about it and no crew members meddling around inside by the looks of it. It would be perfect for you to get away in – it was small enough to be piloted easily on your own, but there would be ample space inside to make a temporary living space out of.

You skipped a few steps as you quickened your pace, hoping to avoid contact with any curious droids. When you made it to then ship, you went to work on the security panel and bypassed its basic controls with a swipe of your hand, which released the ship’s ramp. While it slowly descended to the ground, you glanced over your shoulder worriedly.

When the ramp clanked onto the ground, you quickly ascended it and made your way to the cockpit. It was big enough for two co-pilots, if you crammed one into the passenger’s stool. The rest of the ship consisted of narrow corridors and two small compartments made for sleeping bunks and storage. 

There was little else apart from paneling and hidden hatches for large cargo and canister hauls. The small capacity of the hip made you feel a little less guilty about stealing it.

Less guilty? I’m stealing a ship! How can I be okay with this!? You sucked in a shaky breath, Because my fears are outweighing my conscience.

You dropped your satchel and robe onto the stool and sat in the cockpit, rummaging around the controls to get familiar with them. You glanced out of the main viewport and felt a thrill of relief to find that no one had noticed your boarding – and if they had, they simply didn’t bother to check you for credentials. You flipped switches and listened as the engine warmed itself in the belly of the ship.

While the compressors and internal environment of the ship balanced itself for space travel, you went out into the corridor and began checking for cargo. You may have been desperate enough – afraid enough – to steal a small ship, but you didn’t feel as well about taking someone’s possessions with you.

You had unloaded three large crates of cargo, labeled in various garb, and were sliding down the last tray of tall canisters when a voice echoed across the hangar and sent a sharp twinge of alert through your body. “(Y/n)!”

Anakin.

No! He wasn’t supposed to follow you!

You were supposed to get away before anyone was able to see you – or stop you.

Your eyes met his as he ran towards you with confusion laced in his countenance. You wanted to run up the ramp and lock the hatch, start the engine and get moving. But your body stood still as a tree, unmoving and stiff. You felt like a creature trapped in the lights of a transporter; too stunned to bolt for safety.

"What happened back there!? Are you alright?”

They saw the balcony. They saw my quarters.

You looked behind Anakin to see if your masters were also in pursuit, but found no sign of commotion. When you looked back at him, he was close enough to notice the frantic trembling of your fingertips. You watched as his line of vision strayed from yours and landed on the cargo in front of you. His ears strained to pick up on the low hum of the engine.

“What are you doing?”

“I-…” You swallowed hard.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Oh, Ani.

“No, Anakin, I-I… I have to leave. By myself.”

“Where are you going? Back to Coruscant? What about Master Windu?  I don’t think he knows about this! He doesn’t even know where you are, (Y/n). He sent me to look for you!”

“No, Anakin, I’m not going back,”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going back to the Order.”

“What?”

You both studied each other’s gaze for a lingering moment. You could sense the deep chasm of hurt you were inflicting upon his heart. It pulsed like an open wound. But what were you supposed to do? There was no going back; there was no fixing what had been done. Didn’t he understand that? And what of your feelings? Couldn’t he feel how much he had broken your heart by shoving your feelings aside as if they were merely ornamental?

“I don’t belong with the Jedi anymore,”

“What!? What do you me- No, no, we can help you, (Y/n),” he drew nearer, making strides towards the cargo you stood behind, “I can help you. Did someone hurt you? Is someone forcing you to do this?”

“No, Anakin! Stay back!” You hold your hand up, stopping him short with your sudden change in tone. His expression mimicked the one he had donned in the hall earlier that evening, when you had done the very same thing. The sting of tears pricked your glistening eyes.

“Did you destroy the balcony?”

You didn’t expect him to ask the question you so feared. The discomfort in your chest swelled as the air felt thinner. Your silence gave Anakin the answer he sought.

“Why?” He breathed.

“I’m not who you all think I am. I’ve been lying to myself for years, Anakin, to everyone!” Your chest heaved beneath your tabard, “Don’t you see? I’m not good anymore!”

“What are you talking about? I’ve known you all my life!”

“Then how could you not know that I loved you!?”

The tension snapped between you in that moment. Silence descended into the air as he struggled to take in your confession and everything that came with it. You felt a sense of relief, having finally been honest with someone other than yourself, but his shock brought a new wave of worry upon you, as well as a certain sense of frustration.

Anakin blinked through his thoughts as they raced in his mind. He repeated your words over a dozen times in his head.

You loved him?

His tongue moistened his lips as his brows drew together and his heartbeat quickened within him - every memory he had with you illuminated with a different color, as if it was blossoming into its full bloom. It was as if, in a mere moment, everything clicked for Anakin.

Your reaction to his confessing his love for Padmé, how it had been entirely out of character; the disturbance he had felt during his meal and the destruction he had found in your quarters; how you had never been able to be close friends with Padmé since your arrival to Naboo; everything.

A lifetime of things, of glances and smiles, of friendship and loyalty – it all made sense.

“(Y/n), please, don’t leave,” Anakin swallowed his tears as he stepped forward and reached out his hand for yours, “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t know. I thought-”

“Don’t follow me Anakin,” your voice broke as you attempted to assert your anger, “I need to go. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“You’re just going to leave? After everything? After what you just told me?”

“Yes, Anakin, I am! I’ve spent my entire life loving you! I’ve lived every day in rebellion to a code that was meant to be my very vow and I’ve broken it a thousand times for you!” Your tears spilled freely down your reddening cheeks. “And you never even knew.”

And you didn’t say it back.

Anakin’s ignorance made you furious with him now. You had given him everything, including subconsciously risking your path as a Jedi, and he had never noticed your turmoil about the matter or the sacrifices you had made along the way. How could he have not known? And why had you spent a lifetime loving a ghost?

“But I need you, (Y/n)! I need you here with me!”

“You don’t need me anymore, Anakin,” You turned halfway to the ramp and glanced at the ground, feeling desperately hopeless, “You have Padmé.”

Anakin watched powerlessly as you boarded the ramp, and, in a panic of broken feelings, rushed to your side. When you felt his fingers graze your arm to stop you, you instinctively yanked yourself back and struck your hand forward. Anakin’s body was hurled back into the cargo with harsh momentum. You heard the cargo clatter to the floor and the gathering sounds of alarmed droid speech, but you couldn’t move. You were frozen in shock yet again, staring at your outstretched hand.

In all your efforts to protect him, you had hurt him more than ever.

You took a tentative step toward his groaning body, but halted suddenly when a drowning swell of terror enveloped you. Turning on your heel, you shoved the tray of canisters down the last rut to mobilize the extension cables. They clinked against each other and toppled over, but you couldn’t stop to pick them up.

You bolted back up the ramp and smashed the bright orange button on the control panel, pulling the ramp up and locking it. The echo of your boots on the metal floor of the corridor made your senses clam up. You were overstimulated in every sense of the word.

In just a few seconds, you had the ship prepared for flight, and careened the vessel out of the large stall door behind it. Through the viewport, you could see Anakin get to his feet warily, watching helplessly as you made your escape. You locked eyes for a lingering moment before the freighter gained traction and your guidance led the vessel into the open blue skies. The last Anakin had seen of you that day was the brief streak of blue in the atmosphere left behind from your jump to hyperspace.

Three years later…

 “You are on this council, but we do not grant you the rank of Master.”

“What?” Anakin’s gaze followed the line of Jedi seated around him until he landed on Obi-Wan, who seemed slightly unsettled himself, “How can you do this? This is outrageous. It’s unfair! How can you be on the council and not be a Master?!”

“Take a seat, young Skywalker.” Mace Windu commanded. There was a sternness in his gaze that made Anakin uncomfortable – it was the same gaze he had worn on the day he had informed Master Windu of your fleeing. It was a gaze that Anakin felt blamed him.

“Forgive me, Master.” Anakin bowed before he turned and took his seat beside Obi-Wan, who shook his head in quiet disapproval. Anakin ran his hands along his thighs – a habit he had developed in moments of acute adrenaline. He kept his tongue still until the session was concluded; biting his remarks and his plea for equal rank.

However, when Anakin trailed closely behind Obi-Wan as they left the meeting chamber, his tongue could not be stilled any longer.

“What kind of nonsense is this? Put me on the council and not make me a Master? It’s never been done in the history of the Jedi! It’s insulting!”

“Oh, calm down, Anakin! You have been given a great honor,” Obi-Wan chided, “To be on the council at your age; it’s never happened before!”

Anakin’s nostrils flared and his frustration swelled and evened with an uneven current within him. Obi-Wan stopped beside him, pulling his padawan’s attention close to him.

“The fact of the matter is the council does not believe you have fully recovered from the emotional shock of (Y/n)’s disappearance. You were close friends, perhaps closer than Master Windu and I should have allowed,”

Anakin looked at his Master and wondered if he knew what you had told him that day in the hanger, but he had never told a soul about what had been said that day. Did Obi-Wan and the others know you had loved him all those years? Or did he simply mean the attachment  of friendship between young companions?

“But you needed someone your age to help you adapt to this way of life, of that I am sure. But I do not think you have yet let go of that attachment, Anakin, even as her friend. She’s not coming back – it is only hindering you from your path. We mustn’t hold on to things like this. It is not the Jedi way.”

“You think so little of my ability to stay loyal to the code? It’s nice to know that the council enjoys their gossip rather than directly discussing the matter.”

“Anakin! That’s not what –“

“(Y/n) has nothing to do with this. I forgot about her a long time ago, just as the rest of you should.” Anakin turned and resumed his steps along the red carpet of the temple foyer.

He couldn’t believe this! The council would rather discuss such intimate matters behind his back rather than address them directly?! What other secrets were they keeping from him?

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan took large strides to catch up to his padawan, “We are concerned for your wellbeing! This is not an attack on your nobility or your strength! It is merely a matter that must be considered before you are granted more responsibility. We must be sure you are ready!”

“If you and the rest of the council would stop deciding things for me and stop treating me like a child, you would understand that I want nothing more than to follow the code!”

“And what of the Chancellor, Anakin?”

Anakin listened as his Master relayed the plan that the Jedi council wished for him to carry out. He was to stay close to the Chancellor, despite the council’s wary mistrust of him, and spy on him from an intimate distance. He couldn’t believe his ears – or the same familiar feelings of distrust and confusion that followed such a request.

  “You wanted to see me, Chancellor?”

Anakin knelt by Chancellor Palpatine’s seat in his box seat at the Galaxies Opera House, where an entrancing display of ballet was being portrayed in “Squid Lake”. The Chancellor, he knew, often enjoyed the theater arts. Anakin watched for a moment as orbs of water floated about the room in a slow, rhythmic motion.

Soon, he was alone there with him, listening intently to the words that Palpatine had to offer. In minutes, he found himself doubting not only the Council and his own Master, but the Jedi as a whole. Were they really all that noble?

“I have to admit, my trust in them has been shaken.”

“Why?” Palpatine’s eyes landed on Anakin’s face, studying his tormented expression with a hidden sense of satisfaction, “They asked you to something that made you feel dishonest, didn’t they?”

Anakin lifted his eyes to meet his for a brief moment. His shame told him everything he needed to know. Still, he pressed.

“They asked you to spy on me, didn’t they?”

He watched as Anakin shifted uncomfortable in his seat, trying to decide on a response that would not betray his superiors, but also remain honest.

“I don’t, uh- I don’t know what to say.”

“Remember back to your early teachings; all who gain power are afraid to lose it.”

“The Jedi use their power for good.”

“Good is a point of view, Anakin,” Palpatine turned his gaze back to the performance, “Think back on your dear friend, what was her name?”

“(Y/n)?” Anakin breathed. He was surprised that the Chancellor had thought to bring you up – he hadn’t been very privy to you while you had been present alongside Master Windu, at least not in any way that was obvious.

“Ah, yes,” the cunning man nodded, “She was a fine padawan from what I knew of her. She was the one that welcomed you on your first arrival to Coruscant, was she not? Mm, it’s a shame that her own Master and the code meant to keep her safe was the very thing that drove her away. You see, Anakin, the Jedi believe what they will of good and evil. But even your friend, as devoted as she was, could not find in herself to abandon her own morals to adhere to their demands. Maybe she knew something we do not, hm? Perhaps that Jedi are not so different from the Sith and their quest for greater power,”

“Oh, well, no matter,” Palpatine concluded, knowing full well that it mattered a great deal to Anakin, “Have you ever heard of the tragedy of Darth Plageus the Wise?”

  That night, Anakin sank into the cushions of the sofa late that evening in the lounge of his and Padmé’s shared chambers, suddenly overwhelmed by the tragic turn of events that had tainted the last few years of his life. How was it that he had come to feel overwhelmed with the same sense of abandonment and distrust as he had when you had left him.

Somewhere between the chaos that ravaged his mind, he felt Padmé's gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder as her weight dipped in the cushion next to him. Her thumb caressed the woven stitching of his dark tabard in an attempt to soothe him. He wanted to find comfort in her touch, but something about it made his skin prickle with annoyance.

His own reaction confused him - usually, the touch of his wife comforted him and brought him an overwhelming sense of peace. It had always been that way with Padmé. But now, after everything they had been through since your disappearance, there was something Anakin could no longer hide away within himself.

You had broken his heart.

And he wished that it was your touch grazing his shoulder.

He wished it had been you all along.

P.S. My dear readers, I didn’t want to part ways on a sad note! I know this was a sad one, but please don’t give in to the dark side of real life! You deserve joy, love, and happiness. We are not our mistakes. We have a choice to let ourselves heal and embark on our passions and purposes in life. If one dream doesn’t work, whether it be a thing or a person, that’s okay. Who says we’re only allowed one dream?

Don’t let the words of a dark seducer sway your place in the world to instill goodness and peace. Do your part to heal the world in a way only you can. At the end of the day, this is just a story and is written for entertainment purposes, and it doesn’t reflect on you or me personally in a condemning fashion.

In fact, we can take from these sad turns in storytelling narratives and glimpse into a future in which we allow our enemy to overcome us and trick us into believing we’re too far gone!

But there is always a second chance for a sincere heart and often times more chances than that. Never listen to the voices that tell you you’ve gone too far to rescue. We can make our own choices and find healing and spread love. I find that healing in my faith in Jesus, so perhaps you can find it too. <3