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“So,” he said, when he could trust his voice. “I guess you were right after all. I guess I am dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” said Obi-Wan blankly. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember?” He shrugged. “Well. It was a long time ago.”

Coruscant at night, awash with brilliant color. A landing platform crowded with the Queen of Naboo’s starship, busy with staff and droids, humming with tension. Young and alone, he was missing his mother so badly, was so angry because the Jedi Council had smashed his dreams to dust. His only hope was Qui-Gon, tall and strong and somehow elemental- a shield and a shelter and a newfound friend. Not like Obi-Wan. He’d been young, then. Impatient, sharp-tongued, and and just as angry- because Qui-Gon had said he wanted to train one small, strange boy.

‘The boy is dangerous. They all sense it. Why can’t you?’ Anakin shivered, remembering. And then the puzzlement in Obi-Wan’s face faded, replaced with a dawning realization as he remembered too. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, Anakin…”

There was shame in Obi-Wan’s voice. Regret. […] “Anakin,” said Obi-Wan intently. “Listen to me. I was wrong. In that moment, I was hurt, I was angry.” He swallowed. “Anakin, I was jealous.”

Some part of him had always known that. Even as a child, abandoned to the care of an astromech droid on that landing platform, he’d felt those hot, rolling emotions in Qui-Gon’s quicksilver apprentice. Even when he’d been too young to understand everything, he’d always understood how other people were feeling. That was just another part of being a Jedi. The Chosen One. The boy who grew up as something more than a boy. 

And now, years later, stranded on a planet staring death- or worse- in the face, that boy was a man and the quicksilver apprentice was the man’s former Master. His friend. His brother. His comrade-in-arms. 

Strange times.

Anakin shook his head. “Forget it. I never should’ve brought it up.”

“But you did bring it up,” said Obi-Wan. “Anakin, you are not dangerous.” […]

‘Anakin, you are not dangerous’. It warmed him, to hear the words, to hear the sincerety in Obi-Wan’s tired voice, and see it in his tired face.

‘But if he knew about Tatooine, and what really happened with my mother. About Padmé. About how I feel sometimes when the Force turns scarlet and bursts through me like hot blood. If he knew all that, what would he say?’

He didn’t know. He never wanted to find out.

~ Clone Wars Gambit: Siege by Karen Miller

(Source: songsofthestars, via remember-alice)

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