Author's Note: I just went to see Episode III in theaters for the second time yesterday. This is the result of being hyped up on popcorn and Dr. Pepper while watching Anakin scream at Obi-Wan. It's all George Lucas' fault if you don't like it. :-)
From the day you took me as your Padawan, I was always slightly in awe of you, Obi-Wan. But then, as I became slightly older, the awe wore off, and was often replaced by annoyance. Love can't exist without it, I'm told—we must have loved each other very much.
We had our arguments, though most of the time they were no worse than the typical squabbles of a parent to his child. When they were more, however, sometimes we could go for days without speaking to each other. I thought I hatedyou, when I wanted nothing more than to get away from what seemed to be your tyrannical rule—but I was wrong, Obi-Wan. I didn't hate you then.
We grew together, intertwined and changed forever by it, like two trees growing side by side, coiling around each other until it is impossible to separate one from the other. I think, had we tried to pull away from each other at that time, it would have been utterly hopeless. We had so completely mingled ourselves that we had no way of identifying which part belonged to whom, and the break would have left both of us in a confused jumble.
Our fights in this time became few and far between, mercifully rare, for when we fought, neither of us thought we would ever recover. There would be tears on both sides, wept privately for the one we thought we had pushed away for good, and powerful rages. There were times when I swore to myself that I would never open myself up to you again, that you had betrayed me once too often.
I thought I hated you, in the times that it seemed that my father had turned on me—but I was wrong, Obi-Wan. I didn't hate you then.
When the Breaking between us began, I know you felt hurt. You thought you had caused this change in me, you believed it was your fault. I saw the silent tears in your eyes, the ones you would never let fall, while our lightsabers flashed between us. But you never understood my reasons for my change—not once did you give me the chance to explain that I was serving a good you knew nothing of.
It enraged me beyond all I had felt before—you closed your ears to me when I attempted to justify myself to you, only fought the harder. I was so angry with you on Mustafar—but I, the only one who knew how to read your emotions, saw the heartbreak in your face, and I despised you for not understanding.
I thought I hated you when you did not listen to me, when you turned your back on me and left me to die—but I was wrong, Obi-Wan. I didn't hate you then.
From then, the days, which had previously been so long, passed me by in a flash. Years came and went, and time seemed almost to pass me by—I was eternal, a symbol of evil carved into stone. Others around me aged, but I remained as time had left me when I was twenty-one. I never grew a day under that mask.
And I waited, Obi-Wan—I waited for you. I wanted you to come to me, I admit it; some back part of my mind thought there was still a chance for you to be redeemed in my eyes, for you to realize what you had done in resisting me. You came, but it was not in peace, as I had hoped. You were stubborn as ever, and it was that same quality that made me raise my lightsaber against you for a second time.
I watched you disappear, your cloak crumple to the ground where your body had been. Whether you gave up, or whether you had simply failed to protect yourself, I will never know. But the outcome remained the same: you had been struck down, by my hand.
I thought I hated you when I finally overcame you—but I was wrong, Obi-Wan. I didn't hate you then.
We battled only twice—both times, I wanted nothing more to kill you. I know you saw the rage in my eyes, the burning enmity that spurred me on when I didn't think I could move again. I wanted you dead, but only because you would not listen! It was a perfect hatred, and I could not fulfill it, because deep down I wanted you at my side.
Never until this moment have I realized what I should have known from the start. I screamed the words, "I hate you!" in your ears, because I knew they hurt you and I wanted them to sting. It was my last resort, my ultimate weapon, and only now do I see how flawed it was.
Because I could never hate you, Master.
And I never did.