Looking back, Anakin couldn't help but think that no other nine-year-old in the galaxy had probably had a life this crazy.
There he was, a kid transported from his dustball home to an unfathomably giant city, and from there to the greenest place he had never even been able to imagine. There was enough fresh water on Naboo, he remembered thinking, to put every single moisture farm on Tatooine out of business for thousands of years. Later on, the ethical implications of this would begin to catch up with him as he thought — why, then, does Tatooine even have this problem? But there, then, as a little kid trying really, really hard not to think about how hard his mom was probably crying back home, wounded from the lost of her only son — it was just so cool.
And that was barely scratching the surface of the mind-blowing-ness of it all. He had met, or at least had been in the presence of, people who were leaders of entire planets, governments, galaxies — he'd gotten to go inside the Jedi Temple, a place vastly more wonderful than he'd ever imagined, because his only reference point for elegance was Gardulla's Palace, which wasn't even as nice as Jabba's but he'd never been there….
And then, to top it all off, he'd gotten a personal thank you by the guy that Obi-Wan had soon after told him would be in charge of the entire Republic. The new leader of hundreds…thousands? of star systems had thanked him! when barely a week before, he'd just been a kid that had dreams and absolutely nothing to his name but a naked droid and a scrapped-together racer gathering sand behind the slave hovels.
(And those things hadn't really belonged to him, either, because he had belonged to someone else.)
At first, Anakin thought that was that. A passing thank you, mind-boggling as it was, from the man newly in charge of the Republic Senate, who had originally hailed from this extremely green and wet planet. That was, rather, until there was a banquet celebrating the victory over the droid army, and Anakin was personally invited to sit right next to this man at the feast.
He hadn't known what to expect, but Obi-Wan's presence there made him feel better. Even though they hadn't really talked much, Obi-Wan was a Jedi and the Jedi were his dream, plus he'd been Qui-Gon's apprentice and was obviously super strong and powerful if he had defeated that scary Zabrak man at close combat….
(And Anakin wasn't really sure if Obi-Wan had actually called him "dangerous" on that landing platform in the city, or if maybe Anakin had just heard wrong….)
Though he hadn't known what to expect, talking with this kindly man, who patiently took the time to explain to Anakin exactly what it meant to be Chancellor and how he had come to that position, was actually quite delightful. All throughout dinner they spoke. They talked about Padmé — uh, Queen Amidala — and how he, Palpatine, had helped her get elected, which Anakin was very grateful for. They talked about podracing, and how impressive Palpatine thought it was that Anakin could do it, and that Anakin must be very, very skilled for someone his age, a standout among all his peers….
Anakin wouldn't exactly have called the conversation weird, but it was kind of…confusing, how someone super extremely important and busy could possibly be interested in a…in someone like him. And, bashfully, Anakin couldn't help but confess as much.
But all Palpatine did was grace him with a reassuring, friendly smile. "I'm the newly elected leader of the Republic, a government made up of thousands of star systems populated by trillions and trillions of people. I am interested in your life, Anakin, simply because I enjoy learning about new people and things. A good Chancellor must be well-informed, you know, and I've never spoken to someone from Tatooine before. Won't you help to inform me of your experiences?"
So Anakin did. He talked about the races, the Hutts, the gambling, the spaceports, about how much he'd wanted to leave. He talked about his mom, and how much he missed her already, missed her really really bad, and how worried he was for her. When prompted, he told Palpatine about going to the Jedi temple, about meeting with the Council, and how he hadn't known the Jedi even had a Council because none of the freighter pilots in Mos Espa had ever spoken of them. He mentioned in passing that he hadn't been sure if he'd even be able to be a Jedi, but that they had finally accepted him in and that he was to be trained.
"That's good to hear," Palpatine said kindly. "I don't know much of the Force myself, but it seems to me that you must be very powerful in it. And after seeing what you've done for our planet, I think you are sure to become an excellent Jedi one day."
"You really think so?"
"Certainly. Perhaps you will even rise to be on the Council yourself."
At the end of the banquet, after more chatting, Palpatine simply said to him, "I think we share a common goal, Anakin Skywalker. I hope some day soon we can continue this lovely conversation; I think we are going to be fast friends."
They were, as it turned out. Well, maybe not fast, because Anakin had all his training to do and Palpatine had half a galaxy to run, but whenever they did bump into each other over the years, either on business of the Jedi Council or whenever, Palpatine always took time to ask Anakin about his training and compliment him on advancing so fast. And he was always so nice, so genuine, taking real interest in Anakin, asking him if he was happy. Anakin was happy, though of course he still missed his mom and got frustrated sometimes during training, when there was something that he just didn't quite get that everyone else his age could do, even when Obi-Wan reassured him that everyone advanced at a different pace and Anakin would get there if he was patient….
When Anakin was thirteen years old, he received his first invite to have lunch with the Supreme Chancellor. One day far in the future, perhaps very far, Anakin would look back on this and think, Why did the Jedi let me go? But at the time it had been an honor. A privilege. He'd been a little nervous, because this would be the first time they were alone together, and he could have said no, but what real reason did he have to turn down lunch with the most important man in the galaxy, who had never been anything but nice to him?
And it had been fine. Really fine, actually. Quite nice. It was pretty much the same as it had always been, where Palpatine expressed interest in the things Anakin was doing, what he was learning, and complimented him on how strong he was. Asked him to demonstrate using the Force for him.
"Absolutely incredible," Palpatine had said, watching Anakin levitate the chair next to him with ease. "It comes so naturally to you. You truly are a step above all the other students your age."
"You really think so?" Anakin said eagerly like he had on Naboo years ago, setting the chair down a little sloppily. "Master Obi-Wan says I need to spend more time practicing, but I think I already have it down."
"I agree," Palpatine said, smiling. "I have never seen a chair levitated with such grace."
It went on like that for a while. Every few months, Palpatine would invite him over to his Senate office for lunch, and it was just so easy. So comfortable. It was a time — and the Chancellor reassured Anakin of this when he felt insecure — where he could just sit back and relax, talk about his life, talk about the fun things and the annoying things. There would be sweets, always something tasty, and Anakin kind of got the impression without asking that this was something Palpatine had always wanted — a son. A nephew. Something like that. Someone to spoil, someone to care about. And Anakin loved it.
It was never like this in the temple. Obi-Wan was good to him, and Anakin didn't know what he would do without him, but sometimes he was just so restrictive. Master Obi-Wan was just that — his master. A man dedicating his life to teaching Anakin what he knew. And Anakin was so, so grateful for that, he was, but sometimes it was just…stifling. Sometimes, it just felt like Obi-Wan didn't understand. Didn't even try.
But Palpatine did.
"Tell me what's on your mind," Palpatine would always say when Anakin came over, and Obi-Wan said that sometimes too, but when Obi-Wan said it Anakin knew he couldn't really let loose without getting scolded or corrected in some way. But with Palpatine, it was never corrections and reprimands. It was always, "It's such a pity that no one else really seems to understand you."
Anakin couldn't agree more. No one else did understand him. Because like Palpatine said, he was special, he was different, he was leagues above everyone else. He was being held back when really he was ready for so much more. More responsibility, more power. Why couldn't Obi-Wan just get that?
Anakin wasn't stupid, wasn't blind. He was old enough now to understand that there was a conflict of interests here. He couldn't do all the things Palpatine encouraged him to do, the things he wanted to do, and still be Obi-Wan's Padawan. So, he decided, he would simply have to get knighted as quickly as he possibly could.
That became the goal. Per Palpatine's advice he didn't actually tell Obi-Wan this, didn't tell him any of this. He never once told Obi-Wan what Palpatine said to him. Because Obi-Wan didn't understand. And because Palpatine told him not to.
"But Obi-Wan is my master," Anakin always said, hesitant. "I'm supposed to be open and honest with him. I don't want to hide things from him."
"Think about it, Anakin," Palpatine would alway say patiently. "If Obi-Wan found out I've been giving you advice behind his back, do you think he would appreciate that? Or would he stop you from coming to see me?"
"But the Jedi encourage people to take wisdom from all walks of life," Anakin said. "That's why they let me hang out with you in the first place, because they think I can learn from you. And Obi-Wan knows you're my friend, he wouldn't do that!"
"We cannot be sure," the Chancellor said simply. "I don't know how I would cope if I didn't get to see you anymore, Anakin. Don't you think it's for the best that we keep this between us?"
It felt wrong. It went against everything Anakin had been taught as a Jedi. Keeping things in, not using the Force to understand, discuss, analyze. Keeping things to himself, shutting his feelings in instead of not letting them influence his decisions. He told Palpatine as much.
"But I'm supposed to not let my emotions determine my actions," Anakin said, torn, as if he were the rope in a game of tug of war, with Obi-Wan pulling on one end and Palpatine the other. It was confusing. He hated it. "What you're telling me is against the Jedi way."
"You are no ordinary Jedi, Anakin," Palpatine said. "I have said it before, and I'll say it again as many times as I need to. You are so much more than any of them. I simply don't want to see you tied down. I want you to rise to your greatest potential. Isn't that what you want, too?"
It was. But that didn't make it right.
Anakin wasn't exactly sure what age he was, then, when he realized that visits with Palpatine usually left him feeling worse than he had to begin with.
He couldn't explain it, but something he had looked forward to so much in the past was beginning to make him absolutely miserable. More accurately, he thought, he made himself miserable. Because Palpatine was never once anything but kind, decent, and honest with him…all he did was continue to point out how strong Anakin had become, how much more advanced he was than the other Padawans, how sooner than later he'd be a fully fledged Jedi Knight ready to fix the galaxy by force, if necessary, to the similar vision that both of them shared of how things should be.
And it was all true, that was why it was so confusing. Palpatine was never anything but absolutely and brutally honest. He didn't mince words, he didn't sugarcoat things. He saw things how they really were, and opened Anakin's eyes to new revelations. So when he said that Anakin was sure to be the strongest Jedi in the Order one day, Anakin had no reason not to believe him. When the Chancellor agreed that no, that thing Master Windu said wasn't fair, that thing Obi-Wan wouldn't let him do on that mission wasn't fair, Anakin knew it must be true. Not that he thought Palpatine was perfect, of course not. But he was usually right, that was the thing. Everything he said always made sense, even if it wasn't exactly what Anakin wanted to hear. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn't, but it was always true.
Ok, well, maybe not always. Like that one time, when he'd come to his friend in confidence, whispered the words that he'd only so far told to Padmé, and was too terrified and disgusted by himself to ever tell Obi-Wan, the one person in whom he knew he should be confiding….
"I did something bad," he'd confessed, stricken, hyperconscious of the soft velvety couch under him, the lingering ache at his right elbow, and Palpatine's comforting presence at his side. "Very bad. Awful. Evil."
"Bad enough you can't tell me?"
His slaughter of the Tusken camp was something Anakin remembered so vividly he could almost still taste the sand in his mouth. Hear the awful screeching war cries. Feel the touch of rough-hewn fabric in which he had wrapped his mother's body. The memory of that night sent such a chill down his spine that even a solid decade of Jedi training could not stop him from shivering here in the comfort and safety of Palpatine's office, its walls and floor and sofas the same shade of red as the blood Anakin had spilt onto the sand.
When he confessed what he had done, he wasn't exactly sure what Palpatine was going to say, or what Anakin wanted him to say. But it had still shocked him, and stuck with him, how eerily casual Palpatine's voice had sounded, especially considering the words coming out of his mouth.
"An understandable reaction," the Chancellor said lightly, "To such a gruesome crime."
Anakin blinked, stunned. "I don't know if you heard me right, sir. I said I butchered every single one of them."
"Revenge is a natural instinct, Anakin," Palpatine had said, and though he tried not to think back to that conversation — tried not to think about anything related to the Sand People — Anakin couldn't help but remember how uncomfortable the Chancellor's hand on his back had felt. He didn't know why, because by that point he'd trusted the Chancellor enough to touch him in comfort, the way he'd trusted very few people, ever, to do so…but it had made him uncomfortable. And it shouldn't have, because this was a friend offering his support, but every word that had come out of his mouth had just made Anakin feel so dirty, Anakin had come to vent about this horrible thing he had done and left feeling even worse….
"Just because the Jedi tell you that revenge is wrong, doesn't make it true," Palpatine continued. "It is simply a fact of life. In fact, I believe if I had been in your position, I would have done exactly the same thing."
"That — no," Anakin stammered, trying to understand. "My mom wouldn't have wanted this. I know she wouldn't have."
"You haven't seen her in ten years," Palpatine pointed out, lightly resting his other hand on Anakin's elbow, which was still swollen and painful from the loss of his forearm. Anakin tensed, but didn't move away. "The Jedi kept you from going to her. How do you know she wouldn't want this if you haven't spoken with her in a decade?"
Frowning deeply, Anakin shook his head. "No, that's not — it's not like that," he said. "They didn't deny me from seeing her, they just —"
"They just never offered to arrange such a trip," Palpatine said sadly. He looked and sounded positively morose. "Nor did they ever make an attempt to free her from slavery. Does it really seem like they cared?"
"Of course they do," Anakin said, realizing it was a lie as he said it. He fell mute.
"I'm simply not so sure," the Chancellor remarked, shaking his head in disdain. "It absolutely breaks my heart to see you so hurt, and your superiors so apathetic."
Anakin didn't know what to say, so he just said, "I did wrong."
"Right and wrong are a point of view, Anakin. And I think you did right."
"Obi-Wan wouldn't think so," Anakin said miserably. "He would hate me for it."
"It grieves me that he does not seem to understand you like I do," Palpatine said. "You deserve so much better than his scrutiny."
"I need to tell him. I just don't know how."
The Chancellor hummed, deep in thought. "I am not certain that's the best course of action. Master Kenobi is emotionally tied to the Jedi dogma. I fear what he might be forced to do, were you to tell him the truth. Report your actions to the Jedi Council, certainly."
Anakin balked. Obi-Wan wouldn't do that to him. Would he? "Do you really think —"
"I do," Palpatine replied, appearing absolutely certain. "I think for now, this secret had best stay between us, don't you, Anakin?"
He swallowed thickly. He was shaking. "Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right."
"You were right to come to me, Anakin," the Chancellor said. Then he leaned in, and even though they were alone, he spoke next in a hushed way as if it were even more secret than the secrets Anakin had already spilled. "And you were right to do what you did to those savages."
Maybe he had been, Anakin thought, knowing full well that if he were in that position again, he would do the same damn thing. Slaughter, murder, vengeance. Revenge. But the fact that, maybe it was possibly, perhaps, sort of okay to have done all that didn't stop him from going straight home to collapse in a sobbing heap on his bed, hating himself more than he had ever thought possible.
So, maybe Palpatine wasn't always right, or maybe he was. But what he definitely was, for absolute sure, was Anakin's friend. His mentor, even. Possibly even like a father, or a grandfather. An uncle. Anakin had never had any of those things, and he didn't entirely know what that sort of relationship might entail, but he knew — he knew — Palpatine had his best interest at heart. He just…had to. Right?
See, as it turned out, there were very few things in this galaxy of which Anakin was absolutely certain. Slavery was bad, for example, that was one. Helping people is good, that was another — instilled in him, along with the first, by his mother all those years ago. Slavery bad, helping good — that dichotomy could be applied to everything, really. Republic good, Separatists bad. Sith bad, Jedi good.
But — was that even right anymore?
Because that was where it got a little…complicated. Up until maybe three hours ago — okay, a few days ago, when they'd asked him to commit treason — okay, a few months ago when Ahsoka had been mercilessly cast aside and abandoned by her own family — Anakin had been absolutely, unflinchingly certain of what was good, and what was bad. Now, he wasn't quite sure at all.
Because another thing of which Anakin was absolutely certain was that Sheev Palpatine had always been a close and loyal friend who cared deeply about Anakin's well-being and happiness, and that simply did not fall in line with the mantra of "Sith bad".
It just. It didn't make sense. Anakin had been sitting here, in the Council chambers, for an hour now, maybe two, just trying to make sense of it. Just trying to hold on until Obi-Wan came back, like he'd promised. And he couldn't make sense of it, and he couldn't hold out. Because it just didn't. Make. Sense.
The Sith were bad. Bad bad bad. Evil. Horrible. Like Dooku, and like Maul. Palpatine was kind. Friendly. He cared about the Republic. He cared about Anakin. He cared about justice, security, all the things the Republic really needed to recover from this insane war.
(The little voice in his head that belonged to Anakin's conscience, and coincidentally sounded just like Obi-Wan, reminded him: this insane war of which Palpatine himself was an orchestrator of.)
But. No. There was a lot about this whole situation Anakin didn't understand. He couldn't just — what if there was some purpose? What if starting the war had actually been for a reason, a good reason? And if so, what was that reason? What reason could possibly be worth the cost of all the lives that Anakin had tried to save?
(All the lives he tried to save, to make up for the ones he had taken.)
Anakin didn't know, but there was a lot he didn't know, and didn't need to know. It wasn't Palpatine's job to tell Anakin every single secret. It was understandable, Anakin told himself, that Palpatine wouldn't reveal himself as the Sith Lord. Right? Like he had said, back in his office, a few hours ago when the sun was still up….
had I revealed myself to you, or to anyone else, the Jedi would have hunted me down and murdered me without trial…If only you could know how I have longed to tell you…[1]
So. That made sense. Yes, Palpatine had lied to him, but as his friend had aptly pointed out, Anakin had lied right back. Not just to him, but Anakin had lied to just about everyone he knew. Maybe not to Padmé, but certainly to everyone else, to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex and all the Jedi. Lied about his marriage, lied about — about Tatooine. Lied by omission about the fact that he sometimes, sort of, occasionally, craved slicing his lightsaber through peoples' hearts and feeling the life be ripped away from their bodies. So who was he, really, to judge Palpatine's lies when his actions, all along, had been good? Had benefited the Republic as a whole?
You're a Sith Lord!
I am. I am also your friend.
He was so confused.
Anakin didn't know how long he sat there, in the Council chambers, confused and lonely and alone and so, so scared.
He didn't know what to do. He just didn't know. Which was exactly why he needed Obi-Wan.
The sun had set some time ago. The sky outside the circular room was dark. He'd sat here through the rosy sunset, the entirety of the twilight. Muted lights gave this room a haunted feel. And Anakin didn't know why, but he kept imagining, over and over and over again —
Death. Murder. Burning this very temple to the ground.
His face was wet. Tears fell from his eyes and streaked down his neck, wetting his collar. His body was slack, weak where he sat in Obi-Wan's chair. He had his own, now, apparently, but at this point, even after all his complaining, all his righteous fury, he wasn't even sure he wanted that anymore.
He only wanted one thing.
Okay, two things.
Three.
He wanted his wife to be safe. He wanted his baby. And he wanted Obi-Wan to get here right now.
In his mind, he pictured it: a purple blade, striking down the Jedi's greatest threat. Anakin was a Jedi. That should be what he wanted. He should have done it himself, when he'd had the chance.
But, Padmé.
Sitting here, passively waiting for Obi-Wan to arrive, it felt like —
It felt like Anakin was allowing Padmé to die. Like he was ensuring it.
when I die…my knowledge dies with me
He hunched over like he was going to be sick. A sob ripped through him, his entire body ridden with an unintelligible pain.
perhaps it is simply a question of whether or not you love Obi-Wan Kenobi
Master, please, hurry —
more than you love your wife
He was drowning. There was no hope. No hope except for Palpatine. And for Obi-Wan.
It was that same feeling he'd felt as a kid. That eternal tug-of-war between his two mentors, his father figures, each pulling on one of Anakin's arms and refusing to let go, each trying to determine the fate of the galaxy, of the very universe itself.
you are the Chosen One. Chosen by me.
By the end of all this…perhaps, even, by the end of today…Anakin knew…he would be calling one of those two men 'Master'.
He just didn't know yet which one it was going to be.
*All the italicized one-liners are from the scene in Stover's novelization where Palpatine reveals his true identity to Anakin. If anyone hasn't read the book, it's obviously the same plot as the movie, but this scene in particular has a different emotional feeling than the film does. In the film, the emotions are kind of bland during that scene and the following one with Windu, and Anakin only becomes visibly distraught when he sees Windu and Palpatine fighting (I am not criticizing any acting here ok so do not assume I am, the behind the scenes make it very clear this was a directorial choice). In the novel, however, Anakin is an absolute anxious mess and is distraught from the get-go, even before Palpatine reveals the truth. It's clear he hasn't been sleeping a wink, hasn't eaten anything, he's basically dead on his feet and he's dizzy, delirious, not thinking clearly at all.
All this to say, the thing that ultimately led me to writing this story was that I had a few anxiety attacks at work last year and when I recently read through the novel again, everything Anakin felt physiologically in that scene was TO A TEE what I had felt. My personal interpretation of Anakin has always been deeply informed by his characterization in the novel, but it was only at this time that I realized it's because Stover writes him with genuine anxiety of the mental illness degree, and god if that isn't relatable. Please read the novel lol
