Chapter One: Temple Turmoil

The eyes of everyone were on Anakin as he finally summoned his feet to carry him from the room entrance to his seat in the Temple classroom. Wishing the marble floors of the Temple could swallow him up, he shamefully hustled to his place and took a seat. He was late. Again.

"…Padawan Skywalker," announced the cool voice of Master Sia-Drury when he had finally summoned the courage to lift his gaze. Her eyebrow rose to challenge his obvious interruption to her lecture. Master Sia-Drury, like all other Jedi Masters in the Temple, had mastered emotional control, but Anakin had already learned enough from his own Master's subtle manifestations to read the signs; though her face was placid, he could see that Master Sia-Drury was not happy. "Thank you for making it here. I hope in the future you will come to understand that the absence of a single padawan will not cause the lessons to wait."

"Yes, Master," Anakin replied stiffly, reddening more from the disapproving stares of his peers around him than the stern gaze of Master Sia-Drury. Why did she have to criticize him in front of all the others? Although the scholar did not seem to be placated by the poorness of his apology, a slight dip of his head in embarrassment seemed to appease her, and the Iktotchi master turned her attention back to the lesson with only a tightening of her lips.

As the lesson resumed, Anakin felt his muscles slowly relax once more. It was not the first time he had been late, and it would definitely not be the last time he would have to be excused. It was just that sometimes he would look at a chrono and realize time had raced away from him. He was already lectured constantly by Obi-Wan about it, but somehow – however hard he seemed to try – he always seemed to making mistakes in one way or another. A flush of anger accompanied the thought. And others always seemed to be criticizing him.

Finally relaxing enough to extend his attention off of the Iktotchi master and to other parts of the classroom, he could already feel the disapproving stares of the other padawans. That wasn't anything different, either, but it sure made him feel uncomfortable under their scrutiny. Somehow, he could never please them, either.

Lessons passed remarkably fast, though because of Anakin's distracted mind or because he had made it so late to class, he was unsure. Not that he wanted to contemplate the latter. Either way, when lessons ended, he practically shot towards the door, hoping to avoid an unwanted lecture from Master Sia-Drury. Slipping between the patches of padawans exiting the Temple classroom, he made it out before Master Sia-Drury could even turn her attention toward him.

He did not, however, escape the unwelcome looks of the fellow padawans he cut off in his hasty escape. Many shot him hostile glares, others suspicious stares, and some –even worse – sympathetic glances. Above all else, Anakin hated the sympathetic glances. They felt sticky to him, too fake, and he hated receiving them. Obi-Wan said it was because of his pride. But it was just that he didn't like being the center of attention in that way. He wished it would stop. But for some reason, he continued to consistently elicit polar sides of the reaction spectrum.

It did not help his waning dignity that a mere ten seconds later he suddenly stumbled and ended up dropping his books on his toes. A curse fell form his mouth as they fell open, corners bending and pages crinkling horribly as he tried to grab the tumbling books. He blushed angrily at the embarrassment of bending to pick them up. Obi-Wan said it was just the clumsiness of growing, but that didn't help his damaged pride. There were a couple snorts here and there, but for the most part the padawans mostly just brushed by. He could see their cloaks whisking by around him, sending cool breezes across his hot cheeks.

"What can you expect from an outsider?" came a voice from above as Anakin bent down to herd his things together. "This is why Temple-born padawans are best for the Order. Perhaps the Council will consider that in the future."

Perhaps it was the fact that the harsh statement had been phrased in such a cool manner, or the fact that Anakin knew that the one who had uttered it likely felt nothing more than a vague interest in him, but either way, he immediately felt his face grow warmer, and his chest fluttered with anger. Anakin straightened up to meet the person face-on.

He was met with the cool expression of Nighil'Tel, a fellow Padawan.

"There are no such things as Temple-born Padawans," Anakin retorted to him.

"But perhaps an optimal age for bringing children in," Tel finished. "Obviously that age is under nine." He met Anakin's gaze coolly, but the scarcely observable defiant spark in his eyes was what set Anakin off.

"Is that what you think?" snapped Anakin. Who did he think he was? He was not on the Council. He was not even close to becoming a Knight. Anakin was already more powerful than him in combat, smarter than him at lessons. Who was he to give his opinion? To his increasing annoyance, the Zabrak did not seem affected by his angry reply. The padawan simply raised an eyebrow, managing to keep that expression of impenetrable indifference that Anakin still had yet to master. At least, as Obi-Wan constantly reminded him.

"I am not the only one who thinks so," the padawan replied. "The simple fact is that someone so adjusted to worldly customs has harder times adjusting to life as Jedi than one who had been raised in the Temple itself-"

"You mean sheltered?" snapped Anakin in return. He was sick of it – everyone looked at him as if he was different. He got that enough from Obi-Wan and from the other masters on the Council. Just because he was born on a back world did not mean he was inferior to the others. In fact, his abilities said otherwise. "You think you're better than I am because the Jedi found you first? That's simple coincidence."

"No," the Zabrak replied, his eyes flickering up and down Anakin's form. Anakin could not help it, he could not help but feel a rush of heat at the state of his clothing, which, compared to the neat robes of Tel, were sloppy and misaligned from his haste to come to lessons. "I think that a true Jedi has more control than you. I don't know why you were picked first as an apprentice, but at this point, I would assume that Master Kenobi and the Council regret moving so fast. Hopefully they'll consider that in the future."

That stirred up pangs of pain Anakin did not want to relive. "I was chosen first because Obi-Wan decided to take me!" he replied hotly. "Your master apparently had a low selection of initiates to choose from."

"You were chosen first because Master Jinn commanded him to do so," replied Tel. He, surprisingly, did not seem bothered by Anakin's insult, only causing Anakin's anger to escalate. Anakin ground his teeth as the padawan continued, "News like that might be hushed, but it's never silenced. Master Kenobi had little other choice – it was a promise to a dying man. And wishes like that are respected, no matter how irrational."

"And you think you knew better than a Jedi Master?" challenged Anakin. "Qui-Gon knew I should be trained!"

"Master Jinn knew he could not leave you in slavery. However much potential you had, a portion of the choice was out of pity. He felt he had to repay your services in some way. He felt he could not leave you in slavery. A portion of Master Jinn was always weak in that aspect. He was always bringing home pets of some sort…"

Anakin felt his ears and cheeks flush with heat. "Qui-Gon had a heart," hesnappedrashly. "Unlike your Jedi Master, who cannot see past the bridge of her nose and has the emotional range of a training remote."

That got Tel to blush. Although the Zabrak's face was a gray-brown hue, darker splotches appeared on his cheeks, and his eyebrows finally descended. "My Master is considered more prestigious than Master Jinn had ever been, and than your master ever will be, for this very reason. Or at least if you continue to stain your master's reputation with your characteristic and foolish emotional displays. You have no control, and it reflects badly on Kenobi. Everyone thinks so."

Something inside of Anakin snapped at that, but as he opened his mouth to retaliate angrily, the books slipped once more from his grasp and once again onto his toes, sending pain and embarrassment shooting through him at his lack of finesse, both of which transformed into further anger as Anakin reached down to collect them once more.

"Why is it hard to accept the fact that you should not have been trained?" Tel continued. "Is it because you do not want to be looked upon as a charity case? Because you wish to fit in with the Temple? You make no efforts to adopt our lifestyle, or your attempts are feeble. Because you know that you won't ever be anything more than a slave boy that should never have been trained? Perhaps it would have been better for the Temple if you had been left in the slave shop-"

Anakin could not remember precisely what happened next, but the next thing that he was conscious of was that he was rolling on the marble floors with the Zabrak, books and papers tossing crazily all over as he tried to punch the impenetrable calm from the Zabrak's face…

"Mmmm. Anger, aggression! A Jedi craves not these."

An hour later, the small form of Master Yoda paced back and forth in front of the two cross-legged Padawans, his gimer stick tapping the ground with each stressed word.

"Shame, Padawans have brought on us today," he continued forcefully. He paused his pacing to look at both of the silent Padawans, but his gaze rested longer on Anakin. When he saw Anakin drop his gaze in discomfort, the creature's eyebrows only lowered in severity and he gave a deep, disapproving hmmmm. After a moment, however, he turned his attention to Tel.

"Padawan Nighil'Tel." He pointed his gimer stick at the Padawan's check, scowling at him. "A Jedi has not pride or arrogance, though both have you shown today. Contacted, your master has been. Instructed, she has been, in reminding you of this." Yoda brought his gimer stick down in emphasis.

"Yes, Master Yoda," replied Tel with a dip of his head. A short rush of disgust pulsed through Anakin at his fellow padawan's quick and unquestionably genuine repentance. Tel was blind, reflecting nothing but the narrow views of the Order like the perfect Jedi padawan he was. It made Anakin angry that as mindless and senseless as he was, padawans like Tel were the ones who received praise and laud. Anakin got nothing but continuous criticism, though he accomplished above and beyond what Tel would ever manage.

Anakin felt his stomach twist in apprehension as he felt Yoda's eyes once more upon him, hoping he could not sense his thoughts. He knew Yoda had already contacted his master as well, and Anakin knew Obi-Wan would be severely irked when he came to collect him, especially if Yoda gave a bad report. Obi-Wan would probably proceed to give Anakin another one of his long and ostentatious lectures, which would turn into an argument, which would end up in Anakin being punished or reprimanded. It seemed that Obi-Wan was always displeased with him, no matter what Anakin did. He was never happy, and certainly never proud of Anakin. Perhaps Tel was right – perhaps he was a disgrace to Obi-Wan's name.

Another deep hmmmm from Master Yoda only increased Anakin's discomfort.

"Padawan Nighil'Tel, free to go, are you," he said, but his eyes were narrowed on Anakin. Anakin tensed his jaw as Tel, with a respectful nod towards the Grand Master, rose and left the two alone in an uncomfortable silence. He knew it was coming, the inevitable scolding on how he was not acting in a manner befitting of a Jedi. It seemed that Master Yoda already knew it had been Anakin who had started the fight, judging from the tone of the Grand Master's voice and his less-than-warm treatment of him. Somehow, Yoda had known before he had even addressed the two. Anakin did not know what that said about him, but he feared it meant that he had an even lower standing in the eyes of the Council than previously assumed.

"Contacted, your master has been, young Skywalker," Yoda finally told him. "Something to say, have you?"

Anakin simply lowered his head. There was nothing to say. He had been provoked, but that was no excuse, at least not for the Order, and definitely not for Yoda. He had lost him temper, yet again. It seemed as it he would never measure up to the expectations of the masters. He seemed to fail Obi-Wan time and time again. At least he was growing used to the reprimanding.

"Know you are at fault, do you?"

"Yes, Master Yoda," Anakin replied.

"Work harder, you must, in controlling your emotions," Yoda stressed.

Annoyance seeped through Anakin. "I do try, Master Yoda."

"Do or do not do. There is no-"

"There is no try – yes, I know," Anakin snapped, before he had even realized he had interrupted the Grand Master. He quickly flushed, but his anger did not fade.

A deep hmmmm from Master Yoda was the sign of disapproval he received. "Much anger and hurt I sense in you, young Skywalker. If control these, you cannot, then impede you, they will."

Anakin bit back a retort. Perhaps he could argue with Obi-Wan, but arguing with the Grand Master seemed less inviting.

"If a Jedi you wish to be, you must rid yourself of these," Yoda told him.

The trek back to the dormitories was anything but pleasant for Anakin. Although Obi-Wan did not scold him immediately, as Anakin suspected he might, he already knew he was angry. Livid, in fact. Throughout the years, he had gotten to know his master well enough to see past the calmness and cordiality that the others at the Temple witnessed day to day. He could read his master's emotions, especially his anger, through the small signs – the pulsing vein in his temple, the slight way his jaw bunched beneath his beard, or the stiff stiltedness in his voice and manner… And right now, all of these were present – Obi-Wan was not only angry, Obi-Wan was furious.

The stiff silence continued until Obi-Wan and Anakin reached Obi-Wan's room. They had barely made it into the room before Anakin could not take it any longer.

"Well, are you going to lecture me or not, Master?" he demanded, whirling around once the door to the room had slid shut behind them. He didn't mean for it to come out as angrily as it did, but the release of tension seemed to cause his tone to come across as aggressive.

Although his blank features did not shift, a vein pulsed at Obi-Wan's temple as Anakin whirled to face him confrontationally. "I'm amazed at you, Padawan," he told Anakin. His voice was low and calm, but Anakin could hear it. Regret. Disappointment. "After all these years, you do not have the self control to withhold yourself."

Anakin felt a flush of outrage. Why did his master constantly assume that it was his fault? He tore himself away angrily in reaction. Well, what else could he expect from Obi-Wan? It wasn't as if Obi-Wan ever sided with him anyway. Disgust rose inside of him. "You haven't even asked what happened," Anakin accused him, his eyes narrowing at the obviously irked expression on his master's face.

An eyebrow rose on Obi-Wan's features at Anakin's lack of control. "I've gained enough information from Master Yoda and Master Sia-Drury to put pieces together," he replied coolly, though Anakin could sense the barely-subtle closure in his tone. He was apparently not in the mood to listen to excuses.

Anakin let out a yell of frustration. He didn't care what Obi-Wan did or did not want to hear. He was not fully responsible! "He goaded me!" Anakin's hand slashed through the air impatiently. "He had no right to make the accusations that he did-"

"Enough, Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped, with such sudden vehemence that Anakin was immediately silent. Obi-Wan folded his hands in his sleeves, but his eyes did not falter from their narrowed gaze. "That does not change the fact that you are a Jedi, my Padawan, and are expected to act in a manner befitting."

"You aren't even curious about what he said!" Anakin yelled in return. "Should I allow another to insult me, to insinuate that I am not as good as the other padawans-!"

"It does not concern me what Padawan Nighil'Fel did or did not say," Obi-Wan interrupted, and his waspish tone booked no room for arguments. "Of all my years as a Jedi, I have never encountered another padawan with such a disdain for rules." Anakin flushed in anger and was about to reply, but Obi-Wan quickly overrode him. "Perhaps it was your raising, or perhaps I have somehow failed you along the way, but neither gives you an excuse to sink as low as you have today."

The comment hit Anakin harder than he expected. "Is that what you think?" he snapped back rashly.

"Your disdain for rules and apparent incapacity to react with anything but your own emotions has put me in a difficult situation as your master, Anakin," he replied. "My promise to Qui-Gon was that I would raise you as a Jedi – even if I had to go against the Council wishes – and yet your actions have only confirmed the validity of the Council's original reservations. The Council's only reassurance is my promise that I will correct your disruptive behavior, yet how can I train you if you consistently ignore my teachings?"

"I don't ignore your teachings, Master!" snapped Anakin.

"But you do disobey my wishes and force me to go against the Council to defend you," Obi-Wan finished for him. "You are a rash and prideful young man, Anakin, and you cannot expect others to cater to your whims and delusions. It's already hard enough to defend you as it is." His brow lowered dangerously, and his eyes scanned Anakin intensely.

Anakin felt his face flush. Most of the anger he was feeling was coming from self-consciousness – he felt extremely flustered at his master's intense scrutiny – but Anakin was too proud to admit it. Instead, he raised his chin proudly and tried to calm his breathing, which, either because of his anger or because of the hurt that was stemming from his master's comments, was erratic. After a few beats of silence in a standoff of wills, Anakin accused him, "You're saying you don't want me as your apprentice. Am I not good enough for the illustrious Obi-Wan?"

"Be reasonable, Anakin," Obi-Wan snapped.

He took a step closer to Obi-Wan, trying to appear more domineering than his stone-faced master. "You correct me constantly. You expect me to listen to you, but you never do anything except criticize my actions. I have the highest marks in my classes! I've bested all the other padawans in combat! I've gone above and beyond others my age! Why can't you see my accomplishments too, instead of dwelling on my faults and making me feel like I have to constantly deserve your attention?"

Obi-Wan did not seem to be affected by Anakin's aggressive emotions and words. He drew himself up, steeling his gaze on Anakin, and even though both he and Anakin were about the same height, Anakin felt as if he was once more a young boy. "You may be high-achieving, young Padawan," he began stonily, "But you are highly illogical and unstable in all else. If you followed rational thoughts, for once, instead of living off of the barely stable emotion you possess, perhaps you would attain better standing among your peers and in the eyes of the Council. Though your current emotional outburst suggests you desire this, your consistently improper actions in the Temple have formed a pattern that speaks otherwise. Believe me, Anakin, it is most discouraging to all who try to help you when you reject their help and disgrace their efforts."

Anakin just clenched his jaw and tore his gaze away from his master's, feeling his throat close up from frustration and hurt. He felt sick with frustration and anger, but even he knew that arguing further with his master would get him nowhere. Anakin lifted his jaw. Fine. If Obi-Wan refused to listen, then so be it. But he would certainly not have the last say.

Not having anything else to say to his master, Anakin turned sharply and left his master's chambers.