A late night drabble of an idea that struck/pestered/haunted me after watching a Star Wars Marathon at a friend's place. AU-ish, or is it?
Disclaimer: While It would certainly have been nice ~from a certain point of view of course~, I fortunately do not own Star Wars. If I did, it would not have been nearly as awesome. Because, as you can see in this drabble, my writing sucks...
Once upon a time it was foretold; a Chosen One was to bring balance to the Force.
This was far from an easy task, even if Balance could be found in multiple ways. One way could have been to heal the wounds of the Force, destroying the hurt and suffering and returning the force to its primal unaligned state. Another had been to destroy light and dark alike, until both were equal.
A choice to Repair, or a choice to Destroy.
To Love or to Hate
To Hope or to Despair
A Shatterpoint came, and with it the time for the Choice to be made. Fate rested in the hands of a maverick Jedi Master, who would blissfully unaware of the far reaching consequences his decision would have. A choice between the teen that had been a faithful, diligent companion, and had proven his dedication again and again, giving his all for the sake of everyone but himself, or the passionate youngling he had found mere days before, a boy whose power was only matched by the conflict inside of him.
Bittersweet is it not, how in his excitement at finding the youth, he did not see the parallels between the choice to be made and the internal struggle all force-sensitives were prone to. A connection that by all means was so glaringly obvious it could not possibly have been a coincidence.
And of course it wasn't
In fact, it had been a test
And the test had been failed
Once upon a time it was foretold; a Chosen One was to bring balance to the Force.
Not once had the prophecy claimed though, that the Force would be the one to choose.
Nor that the choice made would be the right one