A Shell That's Easily Broken
(Author's note: This was mostly just a small Anakin temper tantrum I came up with when I was extremely bored, but I decided to take a chance and turn this into a fanfic. It's more of a RoTS fanfic though. There aren't any spoilers… yet. The first chapter is rather short, and I won't be returning to this for a little while because of vacation, but you may continue anyway :D)
Chapter One
Anakin Skywalker strolled idly by the large window in his chambers on Coruscant. Many thoughts ran through his mind. Obi-Wan, the Council, Yoda, Palpatine. Things had gone by so fast in the past few weeks that he had contradicted his feelings over and over. The Force had not guided the young Jedi knight, however. He was also beginning to argue with his own beliefs in the Force. Putting his coarse hand on his right eye, he felt the scar from the war and closed his eyes. He had done everything to become a Jedi; he'd even lost his forearm and hand for it. He clenched his mechanical fist and pain began to vibrate down his side. The Jedi Council still had not accepted him as a Master Jedi, and the only thing he couldn't interpret was the simple answer to the question "why?" He had been a good pilot, and according to Obi-Wan and Palpatine, an even greater Jedi. He had even completed his training, and he had shaved his apprentice rattail off at his ceremony.
"It's not fair." He whispered under his breath as he drew his lightsaber. He swung it around in little circles as his body hummed with the blue-bladed weapon. "Why won't they accept me!" His face twisted into a look of envy and anger as he threw the weapon down, the screeching blade hitting the floor and causing sparks to bounce in every direction. Palpatine's words began to echo through his mind and entrap it like a cyclone. "They don't trust you, Anakin." Anakin nodded to the words in his head. He attempted to focus on anything else, but he couldn't seem to make anything else come to mind.
He lay huddled in a corner, sulking, his weapon still lying on the floor. He wanted revenge. He wanted them to see that he was better than any of them, that they were all just envious of his Jedi reflexes and capabilities. Obi-Wan had held him back, and he always had to keep reminding him, muttering under his breath about his former Padawan status. Anakin was no longer a Padawan, and he thought Kenobi could respect that. It wasn't fair. The Council had barely given him a chance to prove himself. He proceeded to slowly rise from the floor, his face distorted into a look of deceit. He didn't need the Council to offer him a chance, now did he? He would just prove it on his own, without the help of his former mentor Kenobi. Anakin had been fed up with being pushed around, and he decided that it was now time to move about on his own. He reached for his sword, and it came to him, the blade retreating back to the chromatic device from which it had come. This is all he needed; nothing or no one else mattered to him anymore. Biting his tongue, he winced at the sting and looked towards the large blue Coruscant moon in the starry night sky. I'll get there… someday. He then closed his eyes and began to meditate, reaching into the Force to find some sort of feeling.