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Chapter 33

Anakin sat cross-legged on the cold floor. Within his bedroom, various tools and components were strewn about in a meticulous yet messy manner, as if they were pieces of a complex puzzle waiting to be assembled. Damn, mom wouldn't be happy about that if she had to clean it up.

Today was the day he would create his lightsaber, the weapon that would mark his passage into something more. The lightsaber was more than just a weapon; it would be used to defend those who could not defend themselves, but there was more to life than fighting.

Before him, on a small crate, lay the kyber crystal he had chosen, its blue glow pulsing faintly with a life of its own.

Anakin knew what he must do.

In so little time, he was eager to learn more.

Anakin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the Force to flow through him. The room around him seemed to turn dark as he delved into a deep meditative state, his senses universally turning to connect with the energy that connected all living things. Slowly, the Force guided him through his veins. He could feel it guiding his hands as he held them out to the scattered components.

Piece by piece, he started to compile the lightsaber. The hilt came together first, a sleek, metallic cylinder that felt so right. Anakin had designed it himself, drawing inspiration from the many lightsabers Luke imbued in Anakin to read about.

As he functioned, he allowed the Force to offer suggestions and gave him what he chose to do. He elected a focusing lens from a small array of options, weighing it for a moment before placing it carefully into the hilt. Next followed the emitter matrix, which he installed with a practiced hand hand.

The crystal chamber was the most delicate part of the lightsaber, and Anakin knew he had to be careful here based on what Luke told him. He gripped the kyber crystal in his palm. Carefully, he placed the blue crystal into the chamber, hearing it fall into place with a soft, satisfying sound.

Anakin fixed the power cell, ensuring it was aligned perfectly with the crystal chamber. He could just feel the energy building within the hilt. The final components — the activation matrix and the energy modulation circuits - were established with careful precision, each one moving into place as if it had been prepared for this.

As he completed the lightsaber entirely or so he'd thought, Anakin felt the familiar feeling of resignation.

He sat back, his eyes still closed, and took a deep breath, eyeing what was meant to be his weapon. Slowly, Anakin reached out and wrapped his digits around the hilt. It felt cool and solid in his grasp, the weight fitting comfortably in his hands.

With a deep breath, Anakin pressed the activation switch.

The room radiated with the ignition sound. In the boy's hands, a wonderful blue blade shot forth from the hilt, and it gave Anakin a sense of security that nothing else could have. The energy in his hands boosted Anakin's power.

Anakin stood, holding the lightsaber before him, feeling its power coursing through him.

He swung the blade experimentally. The weapon responded to his instructions. It was his lightsaber. Not anyone else. His. This feeling went beyond even fighting with Luke's lightsaber for the first time. Easily, this was one of the best things Anakin ever created!

He sighed and sat back, making sure the lightsaber sustained itself for a few more moments. Nodding in satisfaction, Anakin deactivated the lightsaber, the blade retracting into the hilt with a resigned hum.

Anakin contemplated where to put it. Settling on a spot, he placed it next to him. Taking an impressed look into the mirror, the boy felt a strange urge to hold up his muscles and flex himself.

He looked at the hooded figure meditating, cloak lingering over him, legs resting on his bed.

"I'm done," Anakin told him.

"Took you long enough," Luke quipped good-naturedly, remaining prone.

"What happens to the quicker path leading to the Dark Side?" Anakin snarked back.

"Even you would test the greatest Jedi's patience, young one," the older snickered.

"I'm my mother's innocent baby boy," Anakin teased. Now, that made him wonder.

What would the galaxy would have been like if Luke ever decided to fall to the Dark Side? It was unlikely that the Jedi would be able to stop Luke. Part of him doubted anyone could accomplish such a feat. It was terrifying how negotiable Luke was sometimes. The man sounded so reasonable when he wanted to be. He'd remembered looking back on Luke's anger on Tatooine when it came to Watto. Given how much of the research on the Jedi suggested that they weren't supposed to release their anger like that, it was a miracle that he didn't just snap and kill the Toydarian. He was angry with the situation between him and his mother being slaves and yet he had managed to hold himself back from killing his former slaver.

Deciding it was best to not think about it for long, Anakin watched as Luke stood up, gripped the hilt, and rubbed his hands across his shoulders, "You are learning quickly. You'll make an amazing Jedi."

"I want to be like you someday," Anakin responded.

"Nonsense, you should be like who you really are. You are an amazing person. A better person than I could ever be." Luke retorted. "The suffering you endured would have changed so many others, but you always held strong."

Anakin looked down, his eyes locked onto the hilt now in his friend's hand. "I'm pretty sure it's nothing. I'm nothing. Nothing special."

"Anakin Skywalker!" His shout instinctively made him feel the urge to flinch away.

Anakin blinked, fear entering his tone, "What?"

The time traveler closed his eyes and breathed, "Apologies." When Anakin felt that Luke wasn't as angry or didn't seem like he was going to snap at him, he leaned closer again. "You're special," he added. "You don't understand the signs of compassion, selflessness, and simple humility that you have. Your reasoning to become a Jedi lines up with that. You wanted to free those who suffered even at the expense of your own life. Not many people would have wanted to help people as you do, for they would have been broken entirely in one way or another."

Anakin was surprised that Luke was so passionate about this. No one ever spoke like this before about his qualities. He was vehement in teaching him how to decipher many things, empty praises included. It did make a part of Anakin overthink as he sometimes did and wonder if Luke had done exactly that to him.

But Luke gave him a sense of support rivaling his mother's. He didn't make him, his mother, or Kitster feel like bantha fodder like the slavers did back on Tatooine even when they were successful. He didn't ever whip them. He could tell Kitster was surprised at Luke's generosity and comfort. Even though he wasn't Force Sensitive, Luke still treated Kitster like he was someone who should have recognition.

"Anakin, it take years to accomplish what you have done. Despite your constant struggle with the Dark Side," Luke said, rubbing his hands through his hair, "you preserve. You continue to do so." He leaned in and whispered, "You are much more than those Jedi in the Temple."

"I dou-" he began, unsure how to feel right now with the bubbling emotions growing in his chest. "I mean they are Masters of the Order. They have the hi-"

"And look at them now. Most of them lectured you about selfishness when you hadn't done anything to earn it. They have failed to adapt to the modern times. They're not bad people but you didn't deserve that hostility, Anakin, on first watch. No one does."

This was something Luke told him before. "And you told them off. I remember that they were angry afterwards."

Luke quipped, "Oh, I have learned much from you when we first met, including aggressiveness."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault that you were being mean," Anakin laughed. He stared down in thought and wondered, "But what can I be as I get older if we're not officially Jedi?"

"The point remains. You don't have to just be a full-blown Jedi. You can be a Jedi and a normal kid living life."

"What about afterwards?"

"As an adult? You can be a father. You can be a diplomat. You can be a politician. You can be all of these things. Your destiny is not closed off to one thing. You can be anything. Every sentient being has a special quality about them that differs them from others. You're among that. You, Kitster, your mother-"

"You," Anakin interrupted, watching as Luke's eyes widened in surprise and his form stiffened.

The tension in Luke's shoulders faded. "Well, yes, I suppose so. You see, I'm not exactly as composed as you sometimes may believe."

"But you freed me, Mom, and Kitster," Anakin pointed out. "You also helped the people here on Naboo. You gave Padmé a chance to restore her world. Even when down, you're always helping someone. Why can't you give yourself credit sometimes?" His emotions overcame him. "I couldn't do it without you. You're always there: by my side. I can't imagine a galaxy without you." He admitted sincerely, and it was the truth. Luke had always been present. The man clearly carried echoes of his past, the agony that traveled deep within his soul. But he didn't let it ruin him.

"Thank you, Anakin," Luke said. "I can say the same about you."

Anakin wanted to make him happy. Truly at peace and serenity. The loss and agony that surrounded Luke sometimes depressed him. He inherited the qualities from beyond the stars. A figure who loomed in the shadows of the Light Side of the Force. A fearless hero most of the time. But someone who had been hurt like him, his mother, and Kitster for whatever reason.

'Why are nice people always hurt?' Anakin thought bitterly. Luke, Padmé, a lot of people on Naboo...

Anakin wrapped his arms around Luke, and he returned the embrace, holding each other close.

Obi-Wan and Siri were sitting down in the Refectory of the Jedi Order, right across from each other. Neither spoke a word, knowing that this familiar ground where Jedi went to enjoy refreshments would be a giveaway. As it was, it was also a resting area.

"I'm so glad to see you two are finally talking with each other again," Garen Muln said, dropping the plate next to Obi-Wan and sitting down.

Obi-Wan couldn't help the small knowing smile at Siri's direction, but he quashed any emotions that would reveal the true extent of their relationship to the Jedi Order.

Predictably, Garen sat and began eating obnoxiously, making Obi-Wan and Siri both give him expressions of annoyance. The crumbs that leaked too close to them made them cringe away.

"So what started it?" Garen asked in a mouthful of raw noodles.

"Started what?" Siri inquired.

"You being friends again?" Garen pressed. "You both have been acting differently since Naboo. I mean, I know you have some nasty scars." The young Jedi looked at her scarred face and the scars across his own face with genuine sadness. "But this unexpected change in the dynamic is something that no one has solved."

"Siri and I have decided that avoiding each other doesn't help with anything, Garen," Obi-Wan said, scowling as another crumb almost landed on his face. "Oh, and do try not to speak with your mouth full. It is unbecoming."

Siri shot a chase look at Obi-Wan, "This is why he's still a Padawan."

Garen smirked. "You know that is out of my personal choice." He huffed. "The only reason you two were granted the ranks of Knights was because of the Naboo's conflict, your resilience, being pitied, and all that bull-kriff. Don't go sleeping on Master Yoda's bed all of a sudden."

The two gave each other the same stare but allowed Garen to win this one. He was that one friend of theirs that would always be annoying, but none won't ever stop referring him as such if it killed them. Without Garen, Obi-Wan suspected he would have lost his sanity a long time ago.

"So when are you two going to take some Padawans for me to manipulate?" Garen snarked.

"When we're ready," Obi-Wan answered for both, though his secret love made some signs of thinking about it as of now.

Receiving the privileges that Knighthood offered was a mysterious feeling. They no longer had a curfew, they could open the Knights-only section of the library, and they would soon be able to choose the missions they could go on, among many other things. It was difficult to get used to.

Obi-Wan would be lying if he didn't refer to their time "recovering" in the Jedi Temple as anything but slightly exasperating.

"And who says you're going to be around them?" Siri asked, sarcasm leaking into her tone.

"Oh come on!" Garen groaned. "You know damn well you need me to lead your Padawans down the right path! You would be too lenient with the boy!" He shouted, drawing attention from nearby Jedi. "And don't get me started on you. Always following rules if it isn't strangling you." he motioned to Obi-Wan.

"Your complaints have been noted and completely disregarded," Obi-Wan said. Now, his turn to be sarcastic.

"Hey, Garen, give Obi-Wan a break here," Siri said, a small smirk falling across her lips, "he's been a lot more flexible since Naboo."

'Have I ever? I even broke the code...'

"Oh perfect, a Maverick Obi-Wan would be way better. Tired of him with the ancient old slogans." their friend teased. "With you, and perhaps Masters Jinn and Dooku, Obi-Wan will finally be more approachable."

Obi-Wan huffed. "You're quite the brainless one."

The Jedi shrugged, chewing highly, "I speak."

Obi-Wan pointed at him, "The ability to speak doesn't make you intelligent."

"Careful, Obi, your Qui-Gon is showing," Garen reprimanded, amused.

The newly found Jedi Knight snorted, "He was my Master."

"Who you're becoming more like every day," Garen snarked.

"It was a matter of time," Siri added.

Obi-Wan scoffed. "Who's side are you on?"

"Mine," she smiled sweetly.

Author's note: Happy Martin Luther King's Day.