Everyone looks at her oddly – it's not the same as the looks she got on Tatooine from slavers and interested parties, who would venture into Watto's shop and reach their hands over, pulling at her hair to see her face better. They look at Anakei like she's a slave fighting in the ring – like she's interesting, but not worth betting on. They don't see her as valuable.
"Remember that if something happens to me, Emahkë, if we are separated, to always make sure you are seen as valuable," Shmi whispered as she pulled Anakei's hair back, little tiny braids against her skull forming like they do every morning and evening under her mother's hand. "You are of the sandstorms and you have the heart of the krayt dragon Lëyaw, my little one – but so long as you are a slave, having a krayt-heart won't do you well. The chains that bind you are strong and can strangle dragons easily. You must wear them and bear their weight as if they are fine jewellery."
A Jedi Master asks one of Anakei's crèchemates to be her Padawan. Anakei frowns at them as they leave, mostly because she doesn't understand. A'Lu might have powers of extreme empathy, enhanced by the Force, but how does empathy make her valuable? Anakei sits down in the crèche that evening, trying to meditate. A'Lu could meditate easily – Anakei has trouble. She doesn't know how to clear her mind like the Jedi say and though she might not be a slave anymore, Anakei doesn't think her chains are lifted yet. Until she is a Jedi, free to save Tatooine and rescue her mother, Anakei is still bound – and one of those chains is being a crècheling.
I need to become a Padawan and to become a Padawan, I need to learn how to meditate…but how?
"Sensing frustration in one of my crèchelings after over two hours of meditation means something is wrong," her crèchemaster says, coming to kneel beside her, hands tucking into their robes. "Releasing your emotions into the Force isn't just about trying to dispel them. You must connect with the Force and embrace them for what they are, then cast them aside."
"I don't know how to connect with the Force," Anakei admits, opening her eyes. In her lap, her fingers twitch, wanting something to hold, to spin or fiddle. Anakei thinks of pod-racing. Qui-Gon Jinn said Anakei definitely used the Force then to help her get through the course, but Anakei just…she doesn't understand. Anakei has lived all her life the same, with no…presence helping her. She says as much to her crèchemaster.
They are quiet for several seconds afterwards, before they take out their comm, communicating with someone else. Anakei leans up to see who the crèchemaster is communicating with, but doesn't see before the crèchemaster stands.
"Come with me, Anakei."
Anakei scrambles to her feet, following the crèchemaster to the exit. She glances at the half-dozen of her crèchemates around the room, some glancing back, whispering and watching them leave.
"Another crèchemaster will be along to supervise you shortly," they say calmly as the two of them leave. Anakei finds herself being led through the Temple, through tall grey corridors and upwards, via an elevator. Anakei realises, however, that their end destination is none other than the medical bay. She stops in place, suddenly frightened.
Am I wrong? Is there something wrong with me? Is this to do with the Force?
Her crèchemaster pauses, glancing back at her with a concerned expression, voice quiet and soothing. "Anakei, come. There is nothing to be scared of here. Release your emotions to the Force."
"I don't know how," Anakei whispers, before breathing in deeply, shivering at the cold. Drawing her cloak around her tightly, Anakei walks forwards, regardless of her feelings. Her crèchemaster places their hand on her shoulder as they walk into the medical bay. "Where are we going?"
"To a Force-shielded room," her crèchemaster murmurs, squeezing her shoulder. "The Force has given me an idea that I do not think probable, but if my journey to becoming a Jedi has taught me anything, it is that the Force lives in us all as Truth. I can only hope my interpretation is so."
"What if it isn't?" Anakei questions as a creeping feeling of nausea grows in her belly, the thought of a Force-shielded room unsettling her. They come up to a doorway, entering it shortly. Anakei looks around the circular room, lined with numbered doors.
Her crèchemaster leads her to the third door, inputting a four-digit code into the console. The door opens with a hiss to reveal a light orange room with white furniture and white sheets on the bed. Anakei steps inside at her crèchemaster's bidding, being followed by them shortly. The door closes, a sudden heat to the room making her feel far more comfortable and then the lights flash. Once, twice, thrice-
Anakei falls to her knees, screaming out as part of her is ripped away. She claws at her chest for a bare second before going slack, staring into space.
She feels like there's a gaping hole in the world and she barely notices how her crèchemaster heavily sits on the bed, watching her with unblinking eyes. Anakei cannot think – she's barely breathing as it is, taking in small mouthfuls of air. Her hands are numb – her toes too.
"What left?" Anakei asks no-one. "What went away?"
In front of her, the crèchemaster frowns. "Anakei? What language are you speaking in?"
"Where did it go? How do I get it back?" Anakei looks back at the door, tilting and falling to the ground, eyes locked on the control panel as she shifts her deadweight body closer and closer to the wall. All her focus is on the lack of universe, the lack of world and light and dark outside of her own body, but a part of her is concentrating on that control panel, too. The crèchemaster shut the door and took the- took the-
Took the Force from Anakei's universe.
Anakei hauls herself up onto her knees, leaning against the wall. She's shaking and something wet falls onto her hand. She looks down to see blood dripping fast, from her nose to her hand and cloak. No, she thinks, blue eyes widening in fatigued panic. No, this was borrowed-
The next thing Anakei knows is the Force wrapping around her, like a hug. She reaches out for it and the Force is strength, pouring into her and cocooning her. Krayt-heart, an infinite loop of power. The Force isn't strength, Anakei Skywalker, daughter of Shmi Skywalker is strength – Emahkë Krayt-Heart-Force-Child, daughter of Zyehmë Star-Traveller-Storyteller-Mother-of-All is strength. She's a dragon who feeds herself, an infinite, circular system-
"Anakei, please wake," Obi-Wan's voice is a dim whisper in the Force. Anakei twists her head to look back at where his voice comes from, a desert suddenly appearing around her. A sandstorm whips around her and Anakei thinks, I'm in the eye of the storm. "You are supposed to become my Padawan, I promised my Master – I swore I would take care of you."
Obi-Wan, Anakei thinks of him, Obi-Wan with the copper hair. The last time Anakei saw him, he was growing it all out, long Padawan braid and ponytail gone. Anakei doesn't like the idea of cutting her hair and styling it in such a fashion – maybe if she were a boy, she'd have less problems with it, but female slaves are vulnerable in ways males simply…aren't. Not on Tatooine, at least. Because just like there is a slave's secret spoken language, there is a slave's secret braiding language, shared across all manner of class and caste – and the Jedi's traditions don't agree with Anakei's culture. Anakei has seen the female human Padawans around the Jedi Temple. Everything about their chin length hair, small ponytails on top of their heads and thin Padawan braids all simply offend her.
Braids are words, identification and safety. Braids mean slavers can't grab her hair and pull her aside for an inspection – braids mean other slaves know where she lives if she's beaten until she's black and blue. Braids mean that if she dies, her body can be returned to the Skywalker Clan – to her mother or another slave who was taken under the care of a Skywalker.
"Anakei," Obi-Wan pleads, "you need to leave the Force. Its embrace has stolen you for so many days now and I-" Obi-Wan's voice disappears and Anakei thinks, no! I want to hear him! She looks out into the sandstorm and thinks of what her mother said to her every morning and night. I am of the sandstorms and I have the heart of the krayt-dragon Lëyaw! The Force around her agrees whole-heartedly and it is an extension of herself.
The sandstorm's eye travels with her as she ventures forth through the dunes, approaching a darkness that both scares and annoys her. Scares her, because the closer she gets to the darkness, the less powerful the sandstorm around her becomes, the eye enlarging and shrinking rapidly around her, sometimes until the sand scratches at her cheeks. Annoys her, because Obi-Wan, why are you in the darkness? The darkness makes me weak. Stupid Obi-Wan, get out of the dark-
Her eyes open and for a moment, all Anakei can do is stare at the white ceiling, the Force pressing around her like it had in her dream. Oh. This is what it's always been like.
"Anakei?" Obi-Wan exclaims, "You're awake!"
Anakei looks to her future-Master, who gave her to the crèchemasters and asked that they teach her what they can, for he was not ready to look after a Padawan in his grief, let alone a Padawan girl on the cusp of maturity. Three years, maximum, he said to her, if not before then. I need time, Anakei. You are my responsibility…and as such, I must do what is best for you. I am not ready.
"How long was I out?" she questions, practically rasping.
The Force is with her.
I am the sandstorms, I have the heart of the Lëyaw the krayt-dragon – and I am with the Force and the Force is with me.