Chapter Text
“Wrath?”
You nodded your head and the Jedi councilman leaned back in his chair, stroking the scruffy beard that adorned his face, attempting to keep his smile from showing. He thought you were silly. You weren’t. Your trainer had brought you here because of your constant and repetitive nightmares. It has been going on for about two years now, and nothing else worked, and she couldn’t get you to speak on what they were about–you would only say you needed to tell the council. Finally, after the built up loss of sleep, she sent you there in the morning. Your small brain was scared, and some of the Masters on the council wanted to dismiss you, stating that the nightmares of a small child are not important enough for a meeting. Master Windu and Master Yoda were the only ones to give you grace and listen to you.
“A girl sings to me,” you continued, “about the,” you pause, not knowing how to say the word, “cata-co-limnic wrath of a very important man.”
Some of the Masters laughed at your inability to say cataclysmic. You were sure they probably thought it was cute, but the want for them to take you seriously overwhelmed you. You shuffled in the center of the circle, the sunrise was blinding you, so you opted to drift your eyes to the floor, hands fidgeting.
“There was fire. I got burned. He hurt me. He’s strong.”
Master Yoda hummed and another council member spoke up, “I understand nurturing our younglings, but surely we can move her… problem to lower officials?”
“She has a high amount of midichlorian’s, her bond with the Force is higher than any we have seen. For that, we must take her seriously,” Master Windu reprimanded.
“Hurt you was?” Yoda asked and you nodded. “Feel it you did?” Another nod. With that, a few others started to fully listen. If you can feel it then…
“Preminitions sent by the Force?” You looked up at that
“It’s possible.”
“Were you grown? Or still young,” someone asked.
You reflected for a moment before responding, “my hands were bigger than normal. Maybe.”
There was a moment of silence, everyone thinking for a moment.
“Thank you, youngling,” Master Windu looked you dead in the eye, “we shall take your word into consideration.”
You nodded and your trainer was let in to escort you back to your housing hall. When you were gone, Yoda spoke up, “strong she is and strong she will be.”
“But who could be stronger than her in the Force?” Windu prompted, gaze casted around the room. He was still aware that some people were still opposed to talking about this at all. You were a quiet young girl, never really making a fuss despite people pampering you. Hell, it even seemed like sometimes you didn’t want to be dotted on.
“We don’t have any younglings that exceed her midichoral count,” someone replied.
“She’s just a youngling. We don’t even know if she recounted her nightmare correctly. It’s probably not even a vision. This is all a big ‘what-if’ and we shouldn’t dwell on it any longer,” a councilman piped up and others agreed with her.
One saw the hesitancy on others' faces, “we should at least wait until Master Qui-Gon Jinn is back, no?”
Master Windu pressed his lips together and glanced at Master Yoda, who just shook his head, telling him to not fight on it any longer.
“Very well. What’s up next for us to discuss?”
You met the boy with yellow eyes. Well, you hadn’t exactly met him, only saw him. And his eyes weren’t yellow, but blue. You knew it was him, though. Something told you it was him. They let him in despite your pain, your nightmares, your terror, and your warning. It had been three years since you went to the council, so you had assumed they heard his warning. The woman had stopped visiting you as well, and so had he. You were free. So imagine the surprise and pure fear that ran through you when you met his eyes from across the courtyard.
You had been playing with your friends, chasing after the ball after missing the catch when you saw him. He was with a Jedi Master and a Padawan, making their way to the council room. His eyes were full of pain. You were sure yours were too.
In that split second, however, you felt it.
A connection.
The trainers and masters had always told you that you were strong with the Force, but you haven’t been taught how to connect to someone, let alone to this depth. You saw his entire world in colors. Blues, greens, and violets flooded your senses. But you saw it. The flicker of red. You saw the fire. The molten lava. The wrath.
As he looked away and continued to follow the Master and Padawan his emotions, his Force, faded away. Soon, his emotions were replaced with your own. Anger. You felt angry.
The council had always told you that you were special, but if you were so special, why didn’t they listen to you? Was it because you were young? That’s dumb.
You felt a sharp pain in your hands and looked down.
You had popped the ball.
You hear the faint complaints of your friends. Someone mumbled “again?” and others just groaned and walked away. But you couldn’t focus or apologize. Your eyes were still locked in on where you had seen the yellow-eyed boy.
Only when a trainer called your name did you snap out of it. Shvana was her name. She was nice, your primary trainer too. Her dark eyebrows furrowed at you and your lost expression, gold eyes squinting at you. When she reached the point of where you stood, she towered over you.
“What has gotten into you? This is the second time this week you have let your emotions get the better of you, and you have destroyed something because of it.” Oh, right. That pillar you cracked and had to be immediately replaced because you ran head-first into it and got upset. Shvana gently took your hand, having to almost bend over fully to reach your hand, and guided you to your next lesson of the day.
“‘Vana?” She hummed in response, “am I strong?”
She laughed lightly, “yes, dear youngling, you are very strong.”
“Ok.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Yes.”
“What about an apology? If you feel sorry you should apologize to your fellow younglings.”
You glanced up at her, “I don’t feel sorry, though.”
She was quiet for a moment, before speaking in a serious tone, “you broke something that they liked. Something that wasn’t yours. To be a good jedi, you must know when you’re in the wrong.”
“I’m not gonna be a jedi.” She stopped walking and dropped your hand. Standing there for a moment, she weighed her options. She could dismiss you and your statement, but that might lead you down a road of resentment, which leads to darkness. Or, she could try to dig deeper. She’s the only one of the trainers you open up to, anyway.
She knelt down to your level, still very much taller than you, though, and quietly asked, “what do you mean, young one?” Her eyes tried to search into yours, but alas, you always had this ability to subconsciously guard yourself mentally.
You shrugged your shoulders, “dunno.”
You looked around, eyes bouncing from place to place. There were a few knights standing around, a few younglings giggling and playing cards, glancing around and sharing secrets. They looked happy. You think about joining them later, only to shove the thought into the deepest corner of your mind. The council had said that you shouldn’t form any attachments to other younglings in order to keep focused on your relationship to the Force. You were special. Or something. Either way, they wouldn’t want you to join them anyway. Your peers always said you were weird, that you had no emotions. Which, in opposition to their words, hurt your feelings. You didn’t want to be isolated like the council made you be, going so far as to give you a personal trainer, Shvana. You didn’t know why you were like that either. Why you had to be special.
“Hey,” Shvana brought you back from the depths of your mind. You looked into her eyes. “Tell me. You know you can trust me.” You could, and you knew that.
“I just,” you looked away from her eyes and your voice grew weaker, “I wanna be happy, ‘Vana. Jedi aren’t happy.”
Her face morphed into that of pain, your words had crushed her heart. She then looked at you with pity. You hated when people pitied you. You experienced it on the daily, mainly from jedi masters and knights, as if they knew something you didn’t. You didn’t just hate it, you loathed it. But you could never hate Shvana, or even loath her. She was the forbidden mother you always yearned for.
“Who told you that?” Her voice was wavering and you could see the tears building up behind her eyes.
“The council.”
“Well they’re wrong.”
“They’re the council, they’re always right.”
“Not this time,” she clenched her jaw, weighing her next words, “jedi can be happy. They can be sad, they can be angry, they can be frustrated, they can mourn, they can even love,” she moved her hands to rest on your shoulders, “it’s when those jedi let their emotions control them, drive them to do things that they shouldn’t, that’s when they run into problems. Understand?”
You nodded and she smiled. Shvana stood, took your hand and continued guiding you to your next lesson.
She said your name lightly and you hummed, “I say this because I care about you, but you cannot allow others to know what I have said.” And she stopped talking.
It wasn’t a request, or even a question.
Shvana needed you to listen, and you knew in your little heart that you would never see her again if you didn’t.
Anakin. That’s what his name was. You over-heard some girls giggling it a few weeks later while talking about how cute he was. You had been avoiding him. You didn’t feel bad, you were being cautious. Every time you met his eyes, you felt the fire consume you. Somehow, in trying to avoid him, you had made him angry. During free time he would try to talk to you, but you would just beg Shvana to take you somewhere else, which she would reluctantly agree to do. It was only when you had snuck off to the garden when he cornered you.
“Hey,” the voice made you freeze, despite your blood flooding into your ears, making you run hot, “I thought hating was not allowed.”
You swallowed and turned around slowly. You didn’t, couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t- what are you talking about?”
“You run away from me. You're my age so I thought you would want to be friends.” No. You didn’t want that. You heard the woman singing in your ears again. You felt her grasp your shoulders and pull you close, telling you to run, to get far away from this boy. This prophet. Where her hands layed, your skin burnt, traveling up your throat and grasping you tightly. The tears started welling up. You were like a small animal being cornered by its predator.
“I- I just,” you're stumbling over yourself, “I’m not that social. I guess.”
“You’re crying,” he was close, he was touching you, your face, “I’m not that scary. I think.”
“No- I just-”
“Look at me,” you wanted to shake him off and tell him to go away, “please?” In a flash, the woman left. Wisped away by the wind and his words. His plea. The burning left, leaving your skin tingling as you started to be able to breathe again. Your eyes met his. They were blue. And then, there was the connection. His essence painted your vision. Greens, purples, and blues flowed around him, this time the red was gone, and you calmed at that. You felt his pain still, he had a deep connection to someone, but was far from her. You felt as though you knew him for years, rather than the brief minutes you have been talking. “You’re special,” he said after a moment, his hands dropped from your face, but he didn’t back away, “you’re like me.”
All you could do is nod.
“You don’t talk a whole lot do you?”
Another nod.
“Boring.”
You shuffled in place this time.
“My name is Anakin Skywalker.”
You gave your name in return. And his eyebrows shot up, hiding behind his bowl cut. A gust of wind brushed past the two of you. It was slightly cold, and the sun had started going down, the temple's towers casted a shadow over you.
“You do talk!”
Your eye twitched at that. You wanted to smack that dumb grin off his face. Of course he made himself laugh. You had seen him during free-time, after his first day of free-time, everyone had started to leave him alone. They whispered about him being mean and angry (which checks out).
“With no one else to talk to, it makes sense you laugh at your dumb jokes.” Oh. You didn’t mean to vocalize that. You heard your name being shouted off in the distance, but you ignored it, too busy studying his reaction, which was–in all honesty–not a positive one.
“Excuse me?!” His exclamation made his Force-presence flare. And with it the red returned. No, not red. Orange? Yellow? He was annoyed, but not angry. You didn’t hear the woman. You didn’t fear him, either.
“You talk weird.” His annoyance fizzled out at your words, becoming more confused if anything. His Force presence dimmed slightly, returning to his body in waves of calm.
“So do you,” he countered.
“Nuh uh. Everyone here talks like me. You don’t.”
“Because I’m not from here, idiot,” the look he gave you was puzzling. He wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t annoyed either. But he called you an idiot.
“Where?”
“Huh?” You could see him getting ready to call you another name.
“Where are you from, idiot?” You beat him to it though.
“Oh. Tatooine.”
“Whe-”
“There you are!”
Shoot. Shvana found you.
“You skipped dinner! And young Skywalker-” huh? “What are you doing here too?” She stormed up to you both and started pushing you to the massive dining hall. “Please do not let her influence you to do bad things,” she shook her head, her braids swooping around in the process. You knew she wasn’t too mad at you. Although, you don’t know about Anakin. “What would your master say?”
Now that caught your attention. You snapped your head up to look at Shvana, but her gold eyes were already on you. She was telling you not to ask. Deciding you already defied her enough for one day, you let it go.
After that, you and Anakin would talk more frequently. Well, if he wasn’t too busy with his ‘special’ lessons, as Shvana worded it. And by you and Anakin, it was more so Anakin talking at you. It wasn’t a big deal, you liked sitting with him and ignoring him when he would talk for too long. At least now Shvana didn’t have to worry about your relationship with the other kids.
There had been whispers, though, lately. You heard them. You always did. The other kids always thought they were sneaky, but who knew that talking in a very echoey room at full volume wasn’t very sneaky. Either way, they called you and Anakin weird. That of course the two special younglings paired off. How you both were the temple favorites.
You were definitely no one's favorite.
You doubt you were even Shvana’s favorite.
Anakin was in the middle of his speech about something when you snapped out of your head. The flowers you had been braiding together resting in your palm. You had snapped one of their stems. You turned it between your small fingers, watching the blue petals swirl at the motion. They smelt nice and you wanted to make something for Shvana. You thought blue was her favorite color, not that you knew that much about her.
You looked up towards the sky. Today was an off day, a day for rest, so Anakin dragged you out to a “new spot,” as he put it (you had been here before, but you stayed silent as always). The little bit of landscaping in the courtyard was boring, but there was a small set of bushes that rested close to a wall, but left enough room for your small bodies to fit into comfortably. You had picked the small flowers from a small patch close to the roots of one of them. Now that you thought about it, they were probably weeds. With a scowl, you tossed them to the side and turned to Anakin. He was grazing his hands over the short-cut grass.
“Why do you sit with me,” skepticism laced your voice. He stopped talking and snapped his head to you, his hair brushing over his forehead. It had gotten a little darker during the month you’ve known him.
His blue eyes narrowed. They were the same color as the flowers and his Force signature. “Well, why wouldn’t I?”
“People hate me,” you replied quickly and he raised a brow to that.
“I thought jedi shouldn’t hate?” You looked away.
“Well, that doesn’t mean they still don’t. And we’re not jedi, we’re younglings, not even padawans.”
“Master Yoda says that things like love and hate have no belonging in the life of a jedi,” he leaned forward, as if to see if you would challenge the jedi master’s words. Afterall, no one was stupid enough to do that.
Fuck it. You were.
“He’s wrong,” you start picking at the grass, taking a handful and lightly scattering them. “What else motivates us to protect people? Love. What tells us to hurt the bad guys? Hate. All that ‘n everything in between. The masters are just scared to admit the codes are wrong.”
“But attachment leads to fear and fear-”
“Leads to hate yadda yadda. Whatever. It’s a load of dooey,” you forcefully threw the next handful you grab before you turned to Anakin, whose eyes are wide. “So long as you don’t go, like, super duper evil who cares? I sure don’t.”
Anakin was silent.
“You never answered my question, yanno.”
“You’re mean. And funny. And pretty cool. I like you.”
“Oh. I understand.”
You didn’t understand.
But maybe you didn’t have to. Someone liked you. Out of all the kids here, he liked you. You were his favorite.
You were someone’s favorite.