This is what it meant to be Anakin Skywalker: he was a legend whispered among the children who had survived the fall of the Republic. A martyr to the grown ups who watched their children hope for a future away from the Empire. Halonets had called him the Hero with No Fear before changing their minds and calling him a traitor to the Republic.

What is truth in these times? There were so many lies being told. Lies pouring from the governing body and lies people told themselves. So many mistruths that honesty was nothing more than a fantasy no longer believed in.

Who was Anakin Skywalker? Jedi? Sith? The Chosen One perhaps? A keeper of peace or a warrior crafted by the hands of the Order? A war criminal? A pawn being played with by the hands of the man who he saw as a father? A brother betrayed and a lover now forgotten?

Anakin Skywalker was all of these things and so much more.

Mustafar continued to burn as he gazed out the viewing wall, arms crossed over his chest and his saber at his hip. Now a sleek black that glimmered with the reflection of the hot red light that poured from it when it was ignited. His mechanical hand clenched into a tight fist and an ache shot up to his elbow. It was relatively new as well, his old one had been damaged some months ago when he fought Obi-Wan just a few paces away from where he stood.

Metal didn't do too well so close to lava.

His jaw clenched as he thought back to that dreadful night. Wishing Obi-Wan had walked away like he had asked, wishing he hadn't dragged Padme into the mess. Wishing she had stayed on Coruscant like he had asked. Wishing she understood.

Why do people never listen to him?

The Order never did. Obi-Wan never did. Padme never did... Ahsoka never did, either. Though he supposed the latter of them all he was the most accepting of. It was only fair, it wasn't like he did a great job of listening to his Master.

Shutting his eyes, he felt heat scorching inside of him and eating at every one of his nerves. His fury was an unquenchable fire that had been raging for months and never giving him a moment of rest. Anakin simply couldn't let go of it, his hands locked on and terrified of falling. Fearing for what he might find if the haze cleared.

He hardly ever slept, not that he even tried to. Rest meant the nightmares were more vivid and what good would that do him? Visions got him here in the first place and only appeared to screw things up. Yet... now and again he would drift. Not quite sleeping but not quite awake and all he would be plagued with the vision of Ahsoka laying at his feet.

He wasn't sure if she was alive or dead. The mere sight of her would shock him back to the present and leave him gasping and tearing at his chest for air. She was alright, he knew that. He could sense it. His Padawan was somewhere out there hiding, her pathetic attempt at faking her death not convincing him in the slightest.

When Anakin had found out Sidious had marked her for termination he had never quite experienced rage so powerful. The dragon that had coiled around his heart broke free and snapped, clawing at his internal organs and digging its way to the surface in a bloody mess of fury and flame.

Ahsoka wasn't a Jedi, she hadn't been for a long time so why had his Master ordered her execution if not to weaken him? His hatred for Sidious bloomed the moment his powers began to grow, only blindsighted by the fact that he had believed the Sith Lord could help him save Padme's life. Yet by a slip of the tongue the old fool admitted he hadn't learned this power, but they could soon discover it.

Anakin hated being lied to.

  He had booked it to the random moon her star destroyer had crashed on and his heart had stuttered at the sight of mangled metal that created a crater on the snow covered surface. The clones had watched him curiously as he stalked through the snow, making it part around him as if it were water. It was grotesquely quiet, the snow absorbing sound and once he reached the inner threshold of the crash sight it was unnervingly still.

Anakin caught a gleam of orange among the white and fear shot through him as he fell to his knees and dug. His hands hit metal instead of flesh and he realized he was holding the helmet of the 332nd division. Her division. As he allowed himself to look around he realized helmets were everywhere, all sitting in neat rows. Buried.

He didn't have to guess who had done that as his eye caught on a shimmer of familiar material sparkling brighter than the snow. He shuffled the ice around before his flesh hand found purchase on the lightsaber. The one he had made for Ahsoka right before they parted ways.

She left it here? Why would she leave it here? She wouldn't discard a gift of his would she? He knew she wasn't dead so why– he fell back into the snow as he realized she had faked her death.

The Empire thought she was terminated. Sidious thought she was dead.

Anakin felt a grin pull tightly at his face and a laugh left him. She was in hiding, lurking in the shadows out there somewhere. But he knew his Padawan, she wouldn't go unnoticed for long.

  He blinked away the memory and lava reflected in his eyes, the sight bright and burning but he didn't turn away from it. This was his new home, his new refuge and the dragon inside his heart found comfort in the chaotic environment of molten rock. Anakin had made quick work of construction, a castle now looming over the tallest ridge on the planet as lava flowed in a fountain beneath it, falling hundreds of feet below him.

The entire structure was smooth rock, varying in shades of dark gray and black, the white hot light from the lava casting the floors in a wondrous luminescence. He found his new home strangely comforting despite the lack of warmth. It was quiet here and no one could bother him.

During his time as a Jedi Knight it seemed no one could ever leave him alone. Everyone's problems became his problems because he was deemed the only one capable of fixing them. No one cared about the fact that their demands might just be exhausting because they didn't believe he could get exhausted. Anakin Skywalker didn't shy away or get tired, he fought and wouldn't stop till he had won.

There were countless nights where he wished he could just go away and hide in a corner somewhere. Somewhere he could be alone and could rest, not having to carry the weight of the Republic on his shoulders all the while dealing with the mistrust and mistreatment of the Council.

They never put their faith in him yet they had demanded so, so much.

Padmé had been his escape but even her, after a while, began making demands he couldn't meet with ease.

He wasn't enough for them anymore and he hated it.

"My Lord," the voice was soft yet carried a sense of authority underneath it as one of his Inquisitors approached. He turned and he watched the Lethan Twi'lek bow her head. "You asked for me?"

He regarded her for a moment, watching as she held a steady yet respectful gaze as she waited for him to speak. Part of Anakin had the slight urge to laugh at how different she was from Ahsoka. Snips hated it when he made her wait.

"La'vena, I hope you have good news for me."

She nodded her head and came to stand next to him, her eyes shining gold as she watched lava run throughout the planet's surface like hot veins. "We had heard whispers about some Jedi hiding out on the outer rim. Not special in any sense, but.." her eyes shifted to his and he waited, his anticipation building.

He could feel La'vena's own excitement in the Force. She was eager, wanting to impress him.

"We picked up some transmission. There wasn't much but we did hear one word you might be interested in, and it was traced back to one planet."

"And what word is that?"

La'vena smiled and the word slipped out like ink spilt over sacred texts. "Fulcrum."

Anakin fought back a grin and kept his face stoic. "What planet?"

The word that left her mouth next nearly sent the planet spinning off its axis, threatening to yank Anakin right off his feet.

"Tatooine."

Now why would she be there? His thrill at the aspect of nearly getting ahold of Ahsoka was quickly overshadowed by annoyance. She knew he hated that planet. Is that why she was hiding there? To throw him off her scent? Or perhaps she knew his hatred would keep him from going there out of spite.

He flexed his flesh hand, his whole body feeling tense. He was so close, he could feel it. Feel her. Sometimes, when Mustafar was quiet and he was alone it was as if he could sense she was there with him. She was a calming pressure on his ever racing heart and helped fight back the fear. Anakin hadn't seen her in so long, and the last time he had it wasn't long enough.

She had left the Order. Left him. Though he supposed it was justified, he had let her down and he could never forgive himself for that despite the fact he tried his hardest to have her name cleared. Which did work, though of course the Council took no responsibility for their misplaced judgment and poor actions. They never did and look where that got them.

When he had seen her on that hologram standing next to a Mandalorian he just about crumbled at the sight of her. She looked so grown, a year away from the Jedi maturing her and he wondered what all she had been through. And when he watched her walk off that ship it took everything in him not to run up to her and crush her in a hug. But war waited for no one and she had brushed him aside, which hurt but he knew he deserved it. Right before she left, he wanted to give her a peace offering. A sign their friendship was still as strong as ever and that he would do anything for her.

Then he got ordered to go save the Chancellor from Grievous and he all but happily left. He left her again and Anakin hated himself for that.

He would find Ahsoka, and when he did, he wasn't going anywhere.