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

Chapter 32: Infinite Sadness

By the time they return to the throne room, the construction droids have already finished the repairs, and the heavy double doors are back where they should be – no longer a reminder of Obi-Wan’s violent outburst.

He walks through them and pauses for a moment, still radiating tension and anger in almost tangible waves.

The white marble cracks in threads of a spider’s web under his feet as he walks towards his throne.

Another offering of the Dark Side, it seems to be calling for him, alluring with the promise of calm and tranquility.

Come to me! I will swallow you. You will be safe within me. I will make you happy, Master...

Obi-Wan knows that siren song all too well. The same promise day after day, year after year. Speaking to him with Anakin’s voice.

Enticing him with those sweet, sweet words. Promising him peace and joy. Offering him pleasure beyond belief. Calling him Master.

And that is exactly what Obi-Wan needs right now – in his world on fire, he wants what Anakin Skywalker has been throwing at his feet all these years, literally begging him to take.

Perhaps it’s time. Now that he knows that the Son was telling the truth after all, and the Light is no better than Darkness. It’s just power, plain and simple and terrifying. It doesn’t need to be cherished or worshiped. Doesn’t deserve all the sacrifices he has made in its name. It just needs to be controlled. And balanced.

And Obi-Wan is the control.

As for the balance... He knows just the person who is supposed to bring it.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Still naturally graceful but exuding this frightening, unfamiliar, raw power, his Master glides across the chamber, his robes swaying behind him with a quiet swish of silk.

The flowing Darkness of his throne is waiting for him, alive with the warmth pulsating inside it like a beating heart, and he sits back on it in a careless sprawl, throwing his head back and exhaling in relaxed pleasure. So effortlessly in control again while Anakin is still a mess.

He pauses at the doors, shifting from one foot to the other, hesitant and still a little surprised to be alive in the first place, so there is nothing he can do but stare.

His Master’s glowing figure against the dark backdrop of the throne seems to be made of pure white Light. Cold . A looming danger, still inexplicably contained, when only a few minutes ago it was ready to blast the entire Galaxy to pieces.

Anakin has to suppress a shudder.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is so clearly, so obviously not of this world, and Anakin wonders how he has even managed not to see it before. Not to notice that infinite power that is his Master’s only. The power he commands so casually, so nonchalantly as though the Force itself is nothing but his pet. It probably is.

So is Anakin.

“Master?” he asks carefully, barely a whisper, as he hesitates again, not knowing whether he is allowed to approach or if he should stay away.

“Come here, Padawan,” his Master beckons, as if having read Anakin’s mind. Oh, he probably has. Why wouldn’t he? He can do whatever he wants.

“Don’t be afraid,” the Emperor reassures him with a toothy smile that makes Anakin’s skin crawl with goosebumps.

He hides his trembling hands behind his back and takes a careful step forward.

He is afraid. As he should be. Those who were not are all dead by now.