Chapter Text
A yellow carnation bloom expresses the idea of rejection and disappointment with someone. Despite the bright color, it often means sadness.
—FROM “STORY BEHIND FLOWERS” UNKNOWN.
In the week following his knighthood celebration, Anakin finally understood one fundamental truth about himself: he hated the Jedi. He hated their narrow, unyielding views, their refusal to even entertain the possibility that their archaic beliefs were the foundation of the very war they sought to prevent. Yet, he also despised the Sith—their insatiable quest to enslave the galaxy, their relentless corruption of the Force, and their drive to destroy all resemblance of goodness. Jedi and Sith were simply two sides of the same rotten coin, despite the world unwilling to admit it.
And because of that, the Jedi Order was a necessary nuisance—something to at least keep the Sith in check. A game of wits between them. But Anakin didn’t have to play. More than that, he refused to play.
So, ironic enough, it was the easiest decision he ever made.
Three days after cutting his braid and officially becoming a knight, Anakin received his first mission. Naturally, he jumped at the chance to prove he was capable of handling higher-profile missions. Not even the fact that Obi-wan was going along put a damper on his enthusiasm. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to work alongside his former master, on the contrary, he enjoyed Obi-Wan’s company —Perhaps too much—, but Anakin had hoped that knighthood would grant him some autonomy, and Obi-Wan’s presence felt more like a nanny than an ally.
Still, he told himself it was fine.
“Well” said Obi-wan, taking place at his side on the ship. The humming from the mechanisms, running smoothly, was just as relaxing as the warm irradiating from the Jedi Master. “How its knighthood treating you?” He added with a smile.
“What?” Anakin blinked, dragged back to reality. He cleared his throat. Then, rather shyly coming from him, continued “it’s ok, I guess”. His shy tone, however, ended abruptly. Then he snapped, annoyed at the remainder of his inner turmoil. “I just wish Master Yoda and Master Windu trusted me more”
“They do trust you, Anakin”
“Then why I, a knight, am send to a simple diplomatic mission with you, Master? Surely I would understand this if negotiations on the Jedi part were… needed” he whispered the last part. It wasn’t a secret that diplomacy wasn’t his strength, but admitting it aloud stung.
“Did you read carefully the mission’s briefing Anakin? Or did you just leap at the opportunity?” After a moment of silence, clearly indicating to Obi-wan that he, in fact, did not read it all, the man continued. “There’s been threats made to the senator, dear one”. The term of endearment slipped easily, without Obi-wan missing a beat. “And this particular planet is rather hostile”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed”.
Arriving at Yaerah, despite being locate in the outer rim, didn’t took long. Like many planets in that region, it was underdeveloped, with only a few scattered colonies.
People were peeking from the windows of their tiny houses. A distinctive acrid smell permeated the air, giving even more of a gloomy aspect to the planet. Frankly, it was depressing. Anakin didn’t saw many children, but the ones he did saw were undernourished and dirty.
Everything on the planet felt wrong and, being in a region primarily dedicated to mining, the air was polluted. A faint dust seemed to cling to every surface. Even to Anakin’s skin, like a second layer, after a mere hours on the planet. Breathing the polluted air for a lifetime would surely destroy a person’s lungs, blackening the inside, and leading to severe health problems.
How could this people live like this?
The first few days didn’t represent anything but boredom. The climate was dull most of the time. Even the Force felt kind of nullified here. Since Anakin’s presence wasn’t required during the complicated maneuvers of politics, he was left to his own devices while the senator, Obi-wan, and the governor talked. But he wasn’t allowed to wander far from the governor’s residence.
Which, for Anakin’s taste, was very fishy. But he tried to obey. To do what was expected of him.
At night, once the discussions ended and the senator retired to his room, Anakin would ambushed Obi-wan with questions about the planet, their living conditions and if the nature of these talks were about helping the population. While he didn’t care about politics, and the Jedi were definitely not involved in this particular incident, Anakin was convinced Obi-wan could help in that aspect. And so, he often pushed his former master into taking on the role of a negotiator, sometimes helping the young senator to sweeten the deal.
Problems didn’t arrive until the last day on the forsaken planet. Negotiations went smoothly, and a peace treaty was signed. Now they only needed to return the senator to his home planet.
That day the Force buzzed with chaotic energy, making Anakin feel on edge. He knew Obi-wan felt it too, something was going to happen. Something was going to unravel.
“Obi-wan, I don’t like this” Again, no one was around. The streets were eerily empty. Almost as if the people were hiding, scared of them. Or forced to do so.
“It’s fine, Anakin. We’re done here. And, despite my very young companion trying to jinx the mission, everything went well” Obi-wan said, tone light, trying to ease his mind with humor. And almost succeeding. “Do try to relax, my dear”.
They were traveling back to ship when a scream pierced through the silence. It was a child’s voice. Instantly, Anakin bolted towards the noise, the senator all but forgotten on his mind.
“Anakin, wait!” He felt Obi-wan’s warning, more than he heard it, through the bond. But it didn’t stop him, nor did slowed him down.
When he found the commotion, Anakin saw red. In the floor, a very young child was sobbing. A nasty bruise was already forming on his right cheek. A man nearby, clearly responsible, was raising his hand to strike again.
“Stop crying, you whimp! Your father sold you to pay for his debts, so come with me now or—”
He didn’t finish the sentence, force-pushed off the child by Anakin. He didn’t throw him very far, but the man landed in an awkward, rather painful, position anyway. Good.
Anakin faced the man, barely containing his anger. “Who do you think you are!? Hitting a child, you filthy sleem—”
“Enough!” Obi-wan’s voice cut off his rant. A smile flicked the lips of the disgusting creature on the ground. Finally getting up.
“Yeah, child, hush now before your owner strikes you too”
“He is not my owner, you imbecile—”
“Anakin, stop now!” Obi-wan snapped. He was furious. Enraged in the worst way, the silent kind. While Obi-wan’s posture remained calm, he could see through the cracks. His master’s hands were clenched, and the subtle gesture of his jaw was rigid. “You need to apologize now”
“What?” That couldn’t be right.
“Anakin, apologize to the man.” Obi-wan definitely was mad, but not with the man, as Anakin had first thought. No. He was mad at Anakin. “Now” he added.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A predatory look filled the man’s face. Waiting. Through their bond, Obi-wan pleaded with him, his thoughts filled with desperate reasoning: we don’t have jurisdiction here. You’re endangering the mission. The treaty. The Republic itself.
He knew now that Obi-wan was indeed sent as his nanny.
“I apologize…” He spat the words through clenched teeth, almost as if his jaw was trying to break. The taste that those two words left behind was worse than ashes. It burned everything inside Anakin, leaving a hole, an infected wound that, soon, began to expand. A corrosive substance that threatened to destroy everything on it’s path, allowed to spread and grow thanks to years of injustice. Eating away the foundation of Anakin’s beliefs.
It was tense in the council chambers, the air so thick that Anakin could even feel it as a faint coat on his skin. The Force, however, was tranquil. Almost as if it was trying to soothe him, like the warm embrace of a mother who, finally, understood her child had become a man. It hasn’t offered any helpful advice, not even when Anakin asked—begged, still doubtful if this was the right choice. Neither guiding nor condemning him. The Force was letting him choose his path. A surprising and pleasant change.
“I’m submitting my resignation from the order” the words left a heavy taste on the tongue. He was leaving behind everything he’d ever knew, after all. So no surprises there. It was logical to expect sadness, maybe even some nostalgia. He didn’t understood what he was feeling, though. He tightened his right hand, for a heartbeat the fear of doing the wrong thing clogged his mind. Tingles of pain and confusion instantly flooded him. And it took him a while to realize what was happening: those weren’t his own feelings. This was all coming from Obi-wan, like a damn tsunami bulldozing its way into Anakin’s mind.
He tried to catch Anakin’s eyes, bending over his own chair at the council. But any attempt didn’t reach its intended target.
Unrelenting in his determination, he looked over at Mace Windu, certain he would find the final — and much-needed — push. What surprised him, however, was the deep frown on Windu’s face. To avoid fidgeting under the Council’s gaze, he studied Windu’s posture, noting the tension in his shoulders and the barely concealed confusion in his otherwise stoic demeanor. He also noticed the mistrust that seemed to follow Windu’s side whenever Anakin was involved. Who would have thought? The old man definitely disapproved of anything related to him on principle. After all, Windu had no business looking so upset about his departure when, for years, he had made it his mission to have Anakin expelled from the Order. He scoffed.
“Anakin… ”
Obi-Wan’s voice carried a note of uncertainty—almost indistinguishable to others. But Anakin, who had studied his master for years to the point of knowing every detail, even the subtle changes, especially those, noticed them right away. Anakin thrived on the minutiae of observing Obi-Wan. More than that, the training bond—one that neither of them had severed—vibrated with questions, fear, doubts, and betrayal. Instantly shielding his mind, Anakin put up walls between them, as tight and closed as his own lips. It was unfair, Anakin knew. After all, he had years of experience with the unfairness of life. Because of that, he also knew that Obi-Wan would learn to move on. He always did.
“Explanation to us, you must give, Knight Skywalker. Very unexpected, for this is it”
Of course, things wouldn’t be easy for Anakin. The very same people who were more than ready to drop him, the little slave boy from Tatooine when he first came to the council, were now trying to make him stay. He sighed and turned to face him. Unbelievably.
“What?” It was inevitable, he snapped when he felt trapped. Like a wild animal. “Do you ask for explanation from every Jedi that chooses to leave The Order? That must be exhausting”
Yoda’s face remained calm, betraying nothing of his thoughts. Something flicked between his eyes for a moment, but it was gone before Anakin could interpret it.
“Exhausting, it is not. But necessary, definitely is.”
“I don’t- I don’t feel like I fit in with the Jedi anymore.” He stuttered. Put on the spotlight, Anakin struggled with his emotions. Self-doubt was inherently part of his more prominent traits. But morphing complicated feelings into anger was, also, part of his personality. So he frowned and continued, almost with a growl. “I don’t believe I ever did!”
“So you wish to leave, amidst a war, because you don’t fit anymore?” Plo Koon asked. Around them, the cooled-sweat like feeling that always indicated a change in the Force, thickened until he felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Still, he nodded. He knew exactly what they were all thinking: Anakin was a failure; the biggest joke of the galaxy, a disgrace. Nothing more than a disappointment. Years of training for nothing. The Chosen One who refused to do its damn job. A prophecy not fulfilled. A coward that was running from war. A Sith in the making, as far as Mace Windu was concerned.
Anakin tried to ignore their glares and silent complaints, but it was difficult. Yet he had to do this, because he couldn’t in good conscience be part of a group of people in which he didn’t believe anymore, a group that had disillusioned him as much as he had disillusioned them. Yet, they still were his family, at least for the past ten years. Their heavy stares and silent scrutiny, filled with frustration and disappointment, stung deeply. With his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the white wall, Anakin tried to disconnect from everything around him, letting only the sunlight streaming through the window touch him. The yellow light caressing as if he was alone was enough to ground him. Anakin Skywalker maintained his posture.
“Granted your wish it is, young Skywalker. Go, you must, for a Jedi you are not”.
That morning Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, died. Assassinated the moment he sliced through the last strands connecting his and Obi-wan’s soul. A fair sacrifice. Their training bond ripped apart, plucked from his mind in a single, swift move the moment he stepped outside the Council chambers, leaving only blazing pain and cold emptiness, devoid of the bright beacon of light that Obi-wan was, of his kind and soothing presence.
Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker was buried long before Obi-wan Kenobi could reach him and revived him. The funeral was held in the halls of the temple, while he ignored Obi-wan’s pleas to stop and just talk.
Jedi knight Anakin Skywalker decomposed in the few minutes it took him reach their shared quarters. Something unusual for a former Master and his graduated Pawadan. But, Alas, nothing was normal about Obi-wan’s and Anakin relationship.
He didn’t have much, or anything at all, since Jedi didn’t possess material things, so he was gone with only the clothes on his back. Gone before Obi-wan could intercept him and make him stay. Or, maybe, before Anakin could collapse and begged his former master to come with him, to not let him leave alone. To hear his reasoning for leaving the order and accept them as his own.