Star Wars: The Chosen One || An Anakin Skywalker Story [COMPLETED]

Fifteen || Spying

Anakin's POV

- Flash forward two years -

I hated crying. I hated everything about it; the feeling you get when your face turns bright red, fiery hot, and the temptation to let it all go builds up behind my eyes. It hurt, trying to prevent myself from crying, so eventually I gave up. My lip quivered and my body trembled frantically, but at last, I cried. I cried for a good while, sobbing into my robe as I sat on the veranda one night. With everything that had been going on, I felt as though I deserved to cry.

When I did cry, I felt weak. I felt like the little boy on Tatooine that had nothing to live for besides his mother, whom died in my arms. I felt anger, a feeling I had tried to resist for so long. I was in pain; great pain, pain for a loss in an attachment I never should've gotten myself into. Attachment was forbidden in a Jedi's life, and here I was, crying over a loss yet again. I cried so much, the scar over my right eye stung as though it were fresh and new, when in actuality it had been there for years.

Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering...

I was afraid. I was afraid of my children continuing to live in this dictatorship that had been reigning for years; afraid of Kyla taking over the galaxy, since she was awfully close; afraid of Kyla finding my children; afraid of her in general. I was terrified she would use me, for my power in which she hasn't tried to take control of yet. She's spared me, and I'm just now waiting for her emergent return.

Not only was I in fear, I was angry. I was upset, a feeling nobody deserves to feel, especially a Jedi. I was enraged. I would be blamed for the aftermath of this Empire she established; I was put under pressure, this feeling of unsafety for my children, my wife, it doesn't go away. They deserved to be safe. How could I continue to hide them from her Empire? My children, they are so young, so incapable of knowing the dangers that will surround them for the rest of their lives. Luke and Leia don't deserve this whatsoever. And Padmé, she isn't weak, but she is their mother. I'm not around to protect them all the time, so she has to be. It was bad enough she used to abort Senate meetings constantly, but without the Senate I don't think she'll have to worry about that.

My fear led to my anger. My anger... hasn't led to hate. I could never hate Kyla. I hate what she's doing, what she's done, as it involves my family's future, and her future. She has successfully gone down the path I once believed was correct, under someone's influence. But Kyla, Kyla is powerful enough to follow through in showing herself down the path to the Dark Side. She must have truly believed it is correct...

Now I was suffering. My thoughts were a mess, dragging me down dozens of corridors, leading me in directions I didn't bear think of taking. My ears were almost always ringing, reminding me of how convincing my thoughts could be occasionally, even those I couldn't control. But no matter how impulsive and consistent my thoughts may be, one instinct overpowered the rest - I had to protect Padmé, Luke and Leia, with whatever I could. With whatever I could find within myself. I had to save them. I could save them once, I can save them again. I will not fail them like I failed Kyla.

Forever and always, my padawan...

I liked being left alone when I cried, although Padmé's presence was soothing. Whenever she was around, I felt safe. I felt like no other being in the entire galaxy could make me feel this way, this... serenity. This protection, this guaranteed safety. She made me feel loved, respected, like I was worth it. But right now, I didn't need her. I needed myself, to convince myself what was right and what was wrong. I had to do the right thing; I had to save Kyla.

It's too late, I whisper through my muffled sobs, She's gone. The padawan I came to love, the girl I had a bond with, my apprentice, my savior, the other Chosen One. She's gone, destroyed by the Dark Side, swallowed in her own rage and fear.