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

Chapter 11: Reassure Me

He is eighteen now. He is an adult. And an almost completely trained warrior. Almost a Jedi Knight. Almost what his Master wants him to be. Almost…

What he lacks in tranquility, he compensates with his fighting skills. He practices and practices for hours on end. Always the first to the Training Halls in the morning and always the last to leave. He is the best among all the other Padawans. Hell, he is better than even Knights and Masters. The most powerful Force-wielder to ever live, the strongest of the Jedi Order, his every movement, every form honed to perfection… Still, only a pale, awkward imitation of his Master’s effortless, breathtaking grace. The ideal he can never ever reach, no matter how hard he tries. His knowledge, his technique, his skill – they all mean nothing, unless his Master’s eyes glimmer with pride and his lips part around actual words of praise.

You’ve done beautifully, my Padawan.

For those words Anakin is prepared to bend over backwards, going through his katas day and night until his hands bleed around the hilt of his lightsaber.

Yes, he does everything for his Master’s approval. He dedicates every second of every day to reaching his unreachable perfection. And yet, it always seems to him that he isn’t good enough, that he isn’t worth the time and efforts his Master puts into him. He is not the perfect Padawan his perfect Jedi Master deserves.

He sees the looks other Masters and Padawans throw their way when they walk together through the sun-lit corridors of the Temple. He feels their wary interest under the guise of disdain and disgust. It’s all because of him, of course. He is the reason people stare at them, not his Master. The looks they send Master Kenobi’s way are sympathetic and pitying. And sometimes Anakin hears them whisper behind their backs.

“…Obi-Wan must be crushed to be stuck with that walking disaster of a Padawan…”

“…Poor Master Kenobi… so young… such talent… wasting his time on that useless boy...”

“…Look how hard Skywalker is trying for his Master... As if he could ever come close to being worthy...”

“…He is so messed up… how does Obi-Wan even manage...”

“… Saint Kenobi turned himself into a babysitter for the Sith spawn…”

It shouldn’t make Anakin angry. Because it is true. All of it.

He is not worthy of his Master, and no matter how hard he tries, he never will be.

He can’t control his emotions well enough for a simple human being, to say nothing of a future Jedi Knight.

He is almost constantly on the verge of hysteria.

He is clingy and needy like a toddler.

He can cry in his Master’s arms for hours, trembling and sobbing, a complete mess all around, just because the Force sometimes feels too intense and overwhelming and almost unbearable.

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi deserves better than a Padawan staring into the Dark abyss and ready to fall into it at any moment.

It’s all true. And it shouldn’t make Anakin angry that they speak the truth. It shouldn’t, but it does. Because he knows this: deep down, under the false sympathy, under the fake concern, under the open hate and contempt, they are all just jealous. They all want to take his place – to always walk one step behind Obi-Wan Kenobi’s shoulder, following him wherever he goes; to be trained by him, skilled and talented Master; to be friends with him, young and beautiful Jedi; to be the ones in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s arms when they are needy, and hysterical, and a total emotional mess. They all want to be him – the useless boy, the walking disaster of a Padawan, the Sith spawn. They all want to be Anakin Skywalker.