In order for my rambling and wayward thoughts to make any form of sense, I must weave the narrative with a sentiment that Jedi are forbidden. Oh yes. I loved the child. In every fibre of my being the essence of such Force was scorched. My soul became the dry and acrid desert of his home as I was burned up and consumed. In the beginning as with all things, there had been innocence. But when I failed in my attempt at friendship and embarassed myself in fatherhood, I was left to dwindling options of how to love him. For I could not stop loving him.

I often consulted the memory of my former master at the most trying moments. When Anakin the Sulker had taken up a non reformatory vow of silence, excluding all sans Obi Wan who at the time was baffled and hurt by the stony quiet. When Anakin the Rebel had smeared kohl around his eyes and snuck out into the city. On that day he had met Obi Wan the Fearsome before he had even reached the city limits. But as in everything, I recieved no reply. Only a silence enviable by my young Padawan.

For this narrative, kind reader, I hope you will look on me with pity. For such a wretched and loathsome villain is what you will find upon first glance. Much as I wish to blot out these pages from my account, I know I must do justice. I do not recall precisely when I understood what was happening. Only a vague sense of foreboding visited me in those days. Akin to the boy's nightmareish visions, I would have flashes of aniexty that something was terrible wrong. They came in the form of a blue eyed gaze that held too long, a small hand that touched lightly in a casual yet practiced manner. No, I didn't know at all until it hit me with more searing realisation than a practice saber.

"It sounds to me like a crush," came a chuckled response from Mace as we stalked the corridor. I didn't see the comedy at the time and told him thus.

"You seem to forget that I knew your master, Obi-Wan. And a padawan crush should not be a new concept to you," he smirked.

"But it's not a crush," I shuddered. "It's something-"

"More?"

"Worse."

The conversation stays in my mind even now because of the connotations it had. I understand fully why Mace had laughed at me. I was implying my fourteen year old padawan learner was in love with me. Far more dangerous than the affection I had held for Qui Gon at that age. My love was one sided and led to my endless making of tea and general adoration at every turn. But Anakin's interest created a black smaug that permeated every room in the temple. I could feel the conflicting colours of his Force as he swung violently between rage and self loathing. Every practice room and lesson took place under a never ending night and it was starting to become noticeable that it stemmed from our quarters.

"Control the anger, he must," Grandmaster Yoda had mused one evening at supper as he winced from the glare of yet another bout of self loathing combined with teenage hormones.

Anakin's abundance of love for everything and everyone was leading the insanity of a group of people who could barely feel a tickle of some diluted emotion never mind the onslaught that was this child. He was an eternal headache and I could barely think on how to quiet it. We meditated. We meditated some more. He would pout and shuffle and sigh and name endless activities on a scale of fun to horrendous with my name featuring often in the lesser categories.

Often I would peak open one eye and find him at the other side of our chambers where the biscuits resided. When I scolded him he would retort that I couldn't meditate with an eye open. This continued over and on until one day I fear I simply left myself and walked out the door. The body of Obi Wan remained there with the obstinate child but my senses had simply taken a stroll into the afternoon sun, admiring the gardens. Unfortunately when I returned there was a horrid tension in the air and upon investigating I found Anakin curled under his blankets with a red hand print firmly printed onto the soft, downy skin of his cheek. The dark grey smaug turned to the inky black of darkness and came together to create a monster. I could only watch as it walked towards my almost lifeless form, appraised it as a suitable home and took up residence there. I like to think I only came back to myself because I had nowhere else to go.