Star Wars: The Chosen One || An Anakin Skywalker Story [COMPLETED]

Eleven || Jedi Business

Narrator's POV

Anakin Skywalker stands peacefully on the balcony of his Coruscant apartment, watching the city-based world flourish around him. It was a beautiful planet, and whether during the day or late into the night, Anakin enjoyed just simply meditating to the whirring and whizzing sounds of flybys, the one thing Coruscant residents could never escape from.

His elbows rested on the balcony as he bent himself over it to get comfortable, staring off into the day of the planet. As he leans over it, he sighs, and it's the best he's felt in awhile since his children were born and he'd gotten no sleep. They were easy to get to rest, though, but whenever Anakin were to attempt at sleeping again, images would haunt his mind. They would start simple; little torments and teases, flashing images of paining memories, and then all at once, it would hit him - Kyla Valero.

Anakin's troubled padawan seemed to occur in his mind frequently, almost as much as his dreams about his mother or Padmé used to occur. It wasn't just the mere fact that his first and only padawan was on the path to the Dark Side, it was the dreadful thought that she was just like him. At least, she is the old Anakin. The Anakin that was thriving under Palpatine's influence: a lust for power, an anger that cannot be released... vengeance, fear, pain.

Anakin desperately wanted to help her, he wanted to do anything he could, but Obi-Wan said it himself. There is nothing to be done other than to arrest her or kill her. Anakin couldn't bear the thought of Kyla's death - he could already see the fear in her eyes as she begged for another moment to live. Please, her voice in Anakin's head says, Let me live. I'm so young, I promise I can be better and learn to not be so witty...

"No!" Anakin's sudden scream of agony startles him as he leaps backward from his position leaned over the balcony and falls into a couch on the veranda. His hands feel clammy as he presses the back of it to his forehead already beaded with sweat... then he realized it. Kyla had worked her way into his mind again. I hate when she does that, Anakin thinks to himself as he stands in surprise on the balcony of his apartment.

Padmé comes rushing out from around the corner, her ringlets of dark curls hanging loosely around her glowing face. "Anakin?" she questions, running to his aid and plopping on the couch beside him. "What happened?"

"It's Kyla again," he says to his startled wife seated beside him. Padmé was completely unaware of Kyla's transition to the Dark Side, which Kyla was in the process of, and Anakin had to delicately sugar-coat everything having to do with her. He knew that when the truth got out, and Padmé found out what had really been going on with his new padawan, she would be greatly angered. More angered than anytime before. It frightened him, but he ignored it. This was Jedi business, like Obi-Wan had classified it. A senator shouldn't have to deal with padawan occurrences.

"Oh, Ani... is she all right?" Padmé doesn't sound worried any longer - nonetheless, Anakin treats it like it was nothing.

"Uh, yes, of course. She's fine. I just... worry over her sometimes, how she's the other section of my prophecy." He lets a breath go. Glad that's over.

Padmé nods. "I understand... Ani, I just got the babies down, so if you could please try not to be so loud..."

"Couldn't help it," Anakin sighs, hanging his head.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry these visions happen to you, Anakin."

She gets up, and Anakin mumbles so do I under his breath as she exits the veranda. He hated himself for lying to her, but for right now, he couldn't do anything but. If Padmé were to find out now, she would definitely speak to the Galactic Senate and they would send an order to have the padawan arrested, and Anakin didn't want that to happen - just yet.