a.n. ok, I know its been 2 weeks since I submitted this story and I said I would have the last chapter done, but I've been very busy and I haven't had the time (or motivation) to finish it. But I was thinking about it a lot today (during "Spring" cleaning) and I thought I should finish it. So here it is, the final chapter of my Mother's Day collection. I want to thank all of you who reviewed, even those who didn't, but I would like to give recognition to rockyrelay. Thank you rocky for reviewing pretty much every single one of my works. Thanks! In case you were wondering, after this, I plan on writing the next chapter of Slave and hopefully Destiny, now that I kinda know what I want to write. I have another poem collection in the works, as well as a totally new story. Be on the lookout for those sometime, in the (hopefully) near future.

Sandstorm at Noon

The harsh sunlight beat down mercilessly upon the sand-covered planet below. The stifling heat was suffocating and the unforgiving bright light scarred the eyes. The hot, dry wind blew the grains of sand haphazardly and violently about, generating whirlwinds of grit and dust. These small vortexes blew wildly about, striking everything in their paths, unrelenting in their campaign of destruction. The small tornadoes grew larger and larger, combining their mighty forces into one devil of a storm, continuing its relentless crusade and its quest of wreaking havoc upon hapless wanderers and objects unfortunate enough to be caught outside in the angry tirade.

A small moisture farm stood alone in the middle of the desert, the storm's fury lashing against it, trying its hardest to tear down the fortified duraplast walls and unleash all its might on the frightened victims inside. The wind howled, the storm raged and the sand pelted endlessly against the small home, terrifying the small family huddling inside.

A small boy was cowering in the arms of a young woman, both with looks of abject fear written across their faces. A young man sat nearby, his arm lying across the woman's shoulders, trying to comfort her, though the look of fear in his eyes and his own slightly trembling form suggested he was just as frightened as the other two. Together, the small family sat comfortingly in each other's arms, trying to forget the deadly storm that continued to assault their small home.

The storm slowly started to die down, though it continued to unleash its deadly assault and terrible power on the small homestead. Gradually, the family untangled themselves from each other's arms and quietly stood up. They could still hear the storm lashing ferociously against the walls outside. The young man wandered over to one of the windows as the young woman hung back, tightly hugging the little boy whimpering in her arms.

"How bad is it Owen?" the young woman whispered fearfully as the young man looked out the window at the desert outside, quickly surveying the damage the storm managed to wreak upon the farm equipment.

"It's pretty bad Beru," Owen replied, "the vaporators look pretty beat up. I'm probably going to have to go pick up parts for them, all of them." Owen turned to look back towards Beru, a sad, defeated look in his eyes. "But I can't do anything about it right now, not while the storm is still raging. I'll try to get to town as soon as the storm dies down, but who knows when that could be. These storms could last days, even weeks." Owen turned his attention to the young boy nestled in Beru's arms, as his whimpers grew louder. His eyes found Beru's as they looked sadly at each other. She turned her face towards the boy and tried to calm down the frightened lad.

"Shh, Luke, it's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of. The storm's almost over. It's okay Lukie, everything will be alright." Beru's calming voice soothed the distraught boy, and soon enough, the whimpering quieted and Luke's sobs deceased. He turned his teary eyes and damp face up towards Beru. Her heart ached as she looked at his terrified expression and she wished more than ever that she didn't have to be the one to comfort him. She loved Luke with all her heart and she was overjoyed that he was here with her and Owen and that they were granted the privilege of raising him, since they didn't have any children of their own. But it was at times like this, when Luke was scared and upset, that he really should have had his mother with him, rather that his aunt and uncle. He needed Padmé during stressful times like this to comfort him, to tell him everything would be all right, to dry his tears, to ease his fears. Even though Ben had never told them who Luke's mother was, she and Owen had no doubt that it was indeed the pretty young woman that Anakin had brought with him when he came for his mother nearly twelve years ago. The looks that Anakin gave her, the way they acted towards one another; it was painfully obvious that Padmé was indeed the mother of the scared little boy in her arms. But what had happened to her was another story. Ben had only told them that she had died in childbirth and had left it at that. But the look of remorse, regret, guilt, and sadness that descended upon his eyes had told them that there was more to the story. They felt that it was too painful a tale to be told and hadn't pressured him to tell the full story until he was ready. He had yet to do so.

Her attention was drawn back to Luke, wiggling around in his arms. His cheeks still showed the telltale tracks of tears and he was still sniffing, but he had calmed down considerably.

"Are you okay sweetie?" Beru asked the nine-year-old boy in a motherly tone of voice.

Luke nodded his head. "Uh huh, Aunt Beru. I feel better." He looked up at her face and she just had to smile at the brave façade he tried to present. Her happy smile was contagious and Luke's face soon adopted a similar playful grin. Owen walked across the room to join them, a happy smile breaking out across his face. He ruffled his nephew's sandy blonde hair, gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek, and wandered away into his bedroom, beginning to make preparations for his trip into town when the storm would finally stop.

Beru and Luke watched him leave and let themselves relax as the noise of the storm beating against the walls outside grew quieter.

"Well," Beru started, "what do you say we get back to our little celebration?" Luke turned his grinning face up towards her and nodded, eagerly. Beru laughed at his impatient wiggling and set him down on the ground. She watched him bound off happily towards the dining room and as she slowly followed behind him, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. Today was a special day, a day reserved for families, but more importantly for mothers and their children. Today was Mother's Day and Luke should be spending it with his mother and father, celebrating being a family and their love for each other. She was grateful for his presence here and she vowed to protect him as long ash she lived. But Luke, she knew, deserved to be celebrating today with Padmé. She knew there was nothing like the love and the bond between mother and child, a bond that was formed from the first moment a child was conceived in its mother's womb. There was a similar connection between her and her nephew, after all, she was the only mother he had ever known and would probably be the only one he would ever know. But nothing could be as strong as the tie between mother and child, the link that Luke needed and should have with Padmé. It was because she loved Luke that she wished he could be with his family. She wanted her nephew, the bright shy young boy whom she loved so much, to experience life with his true family and she would give anything to do that for him, to give it to him.

"Aunt Beru, Aunt Beru! Where are you?"

Beru's thoughts were interrupted by Luke's happy, joyful calls. She shook her head and upon entering the dining room, she caught the boy who was running towards her, jovially. He gently grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the partially eaten food on the table. They had been in the middle of a large breakfast, prepared for her by Owen and Luke, when the storm had struck. They quickly left the dining room to take shelter in the family room, the lowest and most protected place in their home, just in case the storm got too rough. They had huddled in there for hours, waiting for the storm to die down.

By now the food was cold, but Beru was determined to finish it. After all, it wasn't everyday that her husband and her nephew got up to make breakfast for her. Of course, today wasn't an ordinary day. Today was a day where Owen and Luke celebrated her, a day where they showed her how much they loved her, a day where they did all the chores around the homestead so she could relax and enjoy her day. Today they treated her like they knew she should be treated, like a mother.

Beru released a sigh as she sat down at her place at the table while Luke happily chatted away. She knew that Owen and Luke always had the best intentions whenever they treated her on this day. But she couldn't help but feel somewhat sad when the empty void in her hear reminded her that she really wasn't who they were trying to make her be. She really wasn't a mother and that thought always filled her with longing and sadness whenever she thought about it. She fervently longed to have children of her own someday, but sadly, it had never happened and she had a feeling that it never would. For now, she was happy to be a loving aunt to her nephew and she promised herself that she would always be there for Luke whenever he needed her, just as if his mother would if she were there.

Beru looked at her nephew's happily smiling face as he ate and she couldn't help but smile at his infectious attitude. Yes he was her nephew and no she wasn't his mother, but she wouldn't ever want to be anywhere else. She would always want to be here with him, being the mother he would never have the opportunity to know or to love. She heard her husband coming from the bedroom and as he approached, she let that sense of love and contentment that she felt whenever she was surrounded by her family wash over her. She was glad that her life had turned out the way it did and she couldn't be prouder of the young boy sitting across from her. She would make the most of her time with him and shower him with all the love and devotion that a mother would give him. She would raise the boy to be a bright, intelligent one man, who might one day grow up and have a great impact on the galaxy. She would give him everything she desired for her own children. She would help to mold him into what he was meant to be, Anakin's son, a selfless man, a true Jedi.

With that last thought, Beru happily continued conversing with her husband and nephew over their now cold dinner as the sandstorm continued its deadly assault, unable to deter the family inside from their happy and loving Mother's Day celebration.