Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Anakin Skywalker
Prompt: fanfic50's #10 - Imagine
Word Count: 501
Summary: Anakin seeks revenge.
Author's Notes: This is another one written for another comm but it fit with my fanfic50 claim so I'm posting it here too.
He struck them down with eerie precision for a man so consumed with anger. His movements were swift and purposeful, his blade a blue blur of sizzling fury. In mere moments he had decimated the entire camp. He walked among the lifeless bodies, kicking the decapitated heads out of his way, feeling in the Force for survivors.
Of course, there were none; the Tusken Raiders were fierce warriors, and even the small children had rushed forward to fight him. The combined strength of thirty-odd clan members paled in comparison to the Force power he alone possessed. Their gaffi sticks were no match for his lightsaber. And even their rage at being attacked in their home was but a fraction of the anger that Anakin felt that night.
The calm of death had settled over the camp. There was no one left to kill, so Anakin made his way back to the tent that housed his mother’s corpse.
Look, Mom, they’re all dead. I killed them for you.
This refrain echoed in his mind as he carefully wrapped her battered body in the tattered cloth he’d scavenged. He felt numb. Drained. Emotionless. Was this what peace felt like? He didn’t find it comforting. He doubted he would ever feel truly comforted again, knowing that he had allowed these creatures to murder his innocent mother.
Yet the euphoric rush of power he’d felt with every lethal blow of his blade had been strangely satisfying. Anakin wanted to feel that again. He wished that somehow a few of them would still be alive, hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment… perhaps foolishly expecting to catch him off guard.
The camp remained silent. He secured his mother’s body to his speederbike, fantasizing of flying further out in the wastelands to find more prey. But his stepfather was waiting for him to return, and so was Padmé…
Padmé. What would she think of him now? She despised violence. She would never understand.
He set out for the Lars homestead, resigning himself to no further acts of revenge. A vague sense of guilt interrupted his numbness when he thought of what Obi-Wan would say if he were there; Anakin knew his actions were not the peace-keeping kind of the Jedi. He wouldn’t be proud of his apprentice’s ruthless slaughter of the camp, even though the Tusken Raiders were a race the planet would surely be better off without. No, Obi-Wan would never know about this.
No Jedi should.
The thought should have chilled him as surely as the crisp night air…but still he felt nothing. His only regret was that he hadn’t arrived sooner. He didn’t think about what it all meant – the questionable morality of seeking revenge, the decidedly dark powers he’d tapped in the Force, or the fact that he too had once been opposed to violence. Like Padmé. Like his dead mother.
I killed them for you.
He could imagine his mother smiling at him with approval, and that was justification enough.