Choose Your Words || A Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker Story

Chapter 27: Protect Him

Anakin swears under his breath and sends his Darkness to shield his Master from it, bending down to drape the torn banner around the Jedi’s shaking shoulders. An illusion of comfort.

The Darkness hums contently, eagerly wrapping around its beloved and caressing him with its soothing touch.

Why are you mourning the Councilors, my sweet Jedi? Why are you blaming yourself? Weren’t you ready to let them die just a few minutes ago? Didn’t you want me to kill them? You know they deserved it, so why are you still sad that they are gone? How can you have compassion for those who had none for you or your Little Ani?

No, don’t weep over the dead, my darling. They were not your brothers and sisters. You are the only child of the Light. You are special. And you are the only one who matters. You are perfect. Precious. You were born for me to adore and protect. I won’t let any harm come to you. You will be safe with me. Always. Always…

Anakin’s Darkness is cooing gently, the sweet little nothings pouring like honey all around his Master in the Force, but Anakin sees that the Jedi’s eyes are still empty – glassy with devastating grief.

Anakin blinks, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. He doesn’t know what else to do to stop his Master from feeling what he is feeling because Anakin himself doesn’t feel anything. Not the pain. Not the sorrow. Nothing.

Pity, sympathy, empathy – the three steps leading to compassion so highly praised by the Jedi.

Step one – to acknowledge someone’s suffering.

Step two – to care about it.

Step three – to feel it as though it were your own.

And then, if you also want to do something to relieve that suffering – then it’s finally compassion.

That’s all well and good in theory. In reality though…

In reality, Anakin had to learn all that by heart, drill it again and again, to at least know the concept even if he can’t actually do any of it. Can’t actually feel any of it.

What “positive” feelings he has for other people are nothing but small reflections of his Master’s emotions – little popup hints telling him that he should copy the Jedi’s reaction and act upset, or serious, or interested. He has been practicing a lot, and now if he really needs, he can pretend that he feels all that too. But nothing as catastrophic as what his Master is feeling now – that Anakin can’t imitate for the life of him. Because no matter how hard he tries, he doesn’t understand how it is even possible to care about anyone other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. Only he can elicit any emotional response from him at all, and only for him Anakin’s feelings spill out, wild and uncontrollable. Truly disastrous.

And even though consciously Anakin does realize that right now his Master is very, very distressed and needs someone who can sympathize with his grief, he still doesn’t know how to fake an appropriate emotional response to all the deaths around them, and it, in turn, makes him distressed too.

Anakin takes a deep breath, willing his panic to go the kriff away. He doesn’t have time for this bantha fodder! He needs to be focused, dammit! He needs to protect his Master, now more than ever. Because he is clearly too consumed by his sorrow to be thinking straight.

Right. Right...

Anakin reaches out to try and pull his Master’s hunched, mournful figure up from the ground, cooing gently, as if talking to a child, “We have to go, Master. It’s not safe here. And there is nothing here for us anymore. The Order has fallen, just like you predicted. It’s their own fault they didn’t want to listen to you.”