Chapter Seven

"Hello," I greet Mom and Beru as I duck inside my mother's bedroom the following afternoon.

Currently, my mother is positioned upright in her bed, propped up by several pillows and looking much stronger. Her frame is still painfully thin and her features gaunt and marred by cuts and bruises that have begun to fade to a sallow yellow. But the color has now returned to her cheeks and her dark eyes are no longer dull but sparkling with determination and vitality. Her hair is clean and brushed and lies restrained in a fat, gleaming braid across her shoulder.

When I enter the bedroom, she and Beru immediately halt their conversation. From the way their gazes skitter away guiltily once they see me, I can only guess that I was the likely topic they were discussing. Not sure what to make of that suspicion, I bounce a questioning glance between them.

"Is this a bad time?"

"Not at all," Beru replies smoothly. Her smile is overbright as she regards me. "Shmi and I were just enjoying some girl talk."

"Sorry to interrupt. I'd like to sit with her for a bit if that's alright with you."

Mom is already answering my implied request before Beru can even open her mouth to respond. "Beru, please give us a moment. I would like to spend a little time alone with my son."

"Of course," Beru replies, rising to her feet to press an affectionate kiss to the top of my mother's head, "I'll be back to check on you later. And finish your meal. You're nothing but skin and bones now."

"Yes, Mother," Mom replies with an impish eye roll.

After Beru is gone, though Mom complains about how needlessly fussy her future daughter-in-law is, she dutifully returns to her stew. Without waiting for her invitation to do so, I reposition my lightsaber and station myself at Mom's bedside to observe her silently as she eats. Even something as trivial as watching her enjoy a meal fills me with peace. Probably because, no matter how much time passes, I still can't quite believe she's here with me now, that she hadn't died in that Force-forsaken camp after all. In my past lifetime, she would have been cold in the ground right now. I shudder when I think how narrowly I avoided that.

But brings me peace must make her uncomfortable, because she only takes a few bites before she finally sets her spoon aside. After taking a measured breath, she blots her mouth demurely, and then she addresses me, her manner forthright. "Ani, how long is it that you intend to stay here?"

The question catches me off guard and I blink at her in mixture of astonishment and affront. "What kind of question is that? Are you that anxious to get rid of me?"

"Not at all. I'd be perfectly content to have you stay forever but, I know that cannot be."

"Why can't it?" I challenge, my jaw set obstinately.

"You have other responsibilities. I can't imagine that the Jedi are at all agreeable to your being gone this long," she says, "If you're lingering out of concern for me, please allow me to put your mind at ease. I'm fine. There's no need for you to worry."

"You almost died three days ago," I remind her.

"But I didn't die…and that's because of you, my son. You've done enough. I won't keep you from your duties any longer than I already have."

"Actually Mom, the Jedi are already aware that I'm here. Technically, I am on a mission right now, protecting Padme'."

She frowns. "Protecting her? From what?"

"Someone has been trying to kill her. I've been tasked with keeping her safe. I brought her with me to Tatooine because I knew you were in danger."

"And how exactly did you know I was in danger, Ani?" she asks me in a slow, deliberate tone, "I spoke with Cliegg. He said that you knew that I had been taken by the sand people before he could say a word."

Dread unfurls in my gut with her question. I've known for some time that I would need to provide an explanation but knowing didn't make me prepared to answer her. The prospect of concocting some convoluted justification is not appealing in the least and I've had my fill of talking around things. I'd much prefer to be direct. Consequently then, I try my hand at glibly revealing the truth and seeing where that takes me.

"What if I told you that I'm from the future and I traveled back in time to save your life?"

She regards me with a deadpan expression. "Ani, you shouldn't tease me," she admonishes, "This isn't a joking matter, and you shouldn't make light of it. I'm trying to have a real conversation with you."

So much for telling the truth! "You know me, Mom," I reply with a frustrated sigh, "I've always had a knack for seeing things before they happen."

I hold my breath when she reaches over to inspect my padawan braid, turning it over in her hand with a pensive expression before smoothing it back against my shoulder. "You've greatly honed that skill since being with the Jedi, it appears." And then she raises her eyes and scans my face, as if she can't quite believe I'm sitting there beside her. "I cannot get over how much you've grown," she murmurs sadly, "…how much I've missed. You must tell me everything."

And so, I do, but it's not at all the recounting she expects. She's prepared for an epic, hero's tale full of fun and adventure, and she gets anything but. I hold nothing back, starting with my early years in the Jedi temple and how lonely and isolated I'd felt, how acutely I had missed her.

I confide in her my persistent struggles to live up to the lofty ideals of the Jedi and how I've failed to do so again and again. I tell her about my difficulties with meditation, despite my mastery of all other skills, due to my inability, my outright refusal, to relinquish my emotional attachments. And finally, I confess to her that in my entire life there have only been two times when I've ever been completely sure of where I belonged and one of those times had been with her.

By the time I'm finished speaking, she is weeping openly and so am I.

"I should have taken you to the Temple sooner," she laments brokenly, "I should have found a way off this Force-forsaken planet for your sake…"

"Mom, that's not the point! I don't belong with the Jedi! I never did!"

"Anakin, you're wr—,"

"—No! I wish that Qui-Gon Jinn had never found us at all!"

"Don't say that!" she hisses vehemently, grabbing hold of my hand in an iron grip, "Never say that again! It was always your destiny to leave this place, Anakin, just as it was always my destiny to let you go!"

I pull my hand from her grasp with a dismissive grunt. "Don't speak to me about destiny! I've heard enough about that to last a lifetime."

"You cannot escape what you are, my son."

"I don't know what I am!" I cry, "All I know is that I want to stay here with you!"

She smooths her hand over my hair, much the way she used to do when I was a little boy, and she was trying to convince me to do something I didn't want to do. "Ani, you know that's not possible."

"Why isn't it possible?" I bite back petulantly, "Is it because you have a new family now and I no longer fit into your life? You have another son, so you don't need me anymore? Is that the real reason you want me gone?"

"Anakin, you know better than that!" she chides me, and I can tell from her stricken expression that she is genuinely heartbroken by my accusation, "How could you even think such a thing?"

And just like that I careen crazily from righteous outrage to repentant tears. I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face there. I am so vulnerable and unsure of myself in her presence, unsettling, crippling emotions that I've had little experience with navigating these past ten years. They make me feel like I'm a child again and, consequently, I react like one.

"I'm sorry, Mom! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean it. Just please…please don't make me go!" She croons softly against my head, and I can feel her sifting her fingers through my hair. The comforting gesture only serves to break me down further. "Let me stay," I beg, "I don't want to go back! Please. I've missed you so much…"

"I've missed you too, every, single day since the Jedi came to take you away," she whispers. I feel her gently cupping my chin then, wordlessly urging me to look at her. When I do, she asks, "Don't you think I want to keep you here with me, Ani? Of course, I do. You're my son. My heart. But to do that would be selfish."

"Why is it selfish if that's what we both want?" I argue stubbornly.

"Because the Force has decided something else for you, my son. You may not want to hear it, but it is the truth. You are destined for something wonderful, and I have known that since the day you were born."

"The Jedi tell me that I'm supposed to bring balance to the Force, but I don't even know what that means!"

"You will," she declares with startling conviction.

"How can you possibly know that?" I challenge, "Don't you realize that they expect me to renounce my attachment to you? If the Jedi have their way, I will never see you again! Never know love at all! Is that what you want for me?"

She favors me with a knowing smile. "I think you've already decided against that, haven't you?"

I briefly close my eyes and emit a low groan of discomfiture, my earlier anguish forgotten as I grapple with an altogether new emotion, one equally foreign to me. Mortification.

I've done an admirable job of avoiding discussion about that kiss up until now, but also dwelling on it at all. Beru hadn't said a word to me, though I've felt her curious eyes observing me and Padme' closely ever since. Padme' hasn't said anything either, but that's mainly because I've yet to give her the opportunity to corner me about it. I've had a relatively easy time evading, avoiding and, sometimes, outright ignoring her attempts at conversation, perhaps because Padme' is not all that eager to hear what I might say.

My mother, on the other hand, is a different matter. She has this uncanny ability to ferret information out of me even when I don't want to give it to her. It's been like that since I was a boy. Somehow, I doubt she'll be deterred as easily as Padme'.

"Beru told you what she saw yesterday, didn't she?" When she starts to nod, I groan in consternation. "I really wish she'd kept her mouth shut."

"Even if she hadn't, I'm not blind, Ani. I'm not oblivious to the way you look at her. Or, the way she looks at you."

"It's…it's not…you're wrong…it's not like that," I protest weakly, "We're…Padme' and I, we're…she's my friend, Mom!" I finally conclude after incessant stammering, "That's all!"

"Tell me, Ani, do you kiss all of your friends?"

"It was one time," I protest, "It's not going to happen again!"

"That's not the impression you gave Beru."

I can feel embarrassed color creep up my neck. This conversation is quickly spinning beyond my control, and I don't like it. "Mother, please."

"What? I think that it's quite wonderful that you're in love."

"Mom, I need you to stop talking!" I groan, "Please…can we not discuss this?"

"You are in love, aren't you? This isn't some…you know…" she waves her hand with a general air of disdain, "…dalliance, is it?"

"I'm sorry, what did you say? A dalliance?"

"Yes. A purely sexual relationship without the benefit of commitment."

I blink at her, flustered. "Oh…well, thank you so much for that forthright clarification, Mother."

"You asked."

Discomfited, I pinch the bridge of my nose, take a breath, recenter myself and then respond to her with as much dignity as I can muster. "To answer your question. No. Padme' and I are not having a dalliance. And yes…I do love her. I love her more than anything, Mom."

She reaches over to pat my hand. "There. That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," I mutter under my breath.

"Because it embarrasses you?"

"No," I reply as the full significance what is happening begins to settle on me, "because I never imagined that you and I would ever have this conversation."

I'm mystified. It strikes me then to consider the many precious milestones that we had missed in that first timeline. I had never been able to confide in her the moment I'd realized that my feelings for Padme' went far beyond a boyish crush. I couldn't seek her guidance when we impulsively began discussing marriage. She never had the chance to even know of our relationship much less wish us well. I hadn't been afforded with the chance to solicit her advice on how to be a good husband. Never had the pleasure of telling her that she would be a grandmother…

So many missed opportunities and lost memories to be made. Now, here I had been given a gift and I'm allowed to do it all over again and I don't want to squander it. Not a single second.

"I thought I loved her when I was nine, you know?" I confess to her after a beat of silence, "But I knew I loved her when I was fifteen."

"What happened when you were 15?"

"I heard her address the Galactic Senate for the first time as the newly elected senator of Naboo. She was so eloquent and poised and sure of herself. I knew she was going to change the galaxy."

"I know that feeling quite well," Mom says, smiling at me warmly, "So what happened?"

"Nothing happened. She served in the Senate, and I continued with my training. We never really crossed paths after that."

"Never? You didn't even speak?"

I shake my head. "Not until recently when I was assigned to protect her."

"Not the most romantic circumstances for a reunion, but you've never been a conventional boy, Ani."

"Man," I correct her direly, "You must take care to remember that. I am a man now."

"Yes, of course," she laughs, "Forgive me if I look at you and I still see my little baby."

I groan again but it is deeply tempered with fondness rather than exasperation this time, "I really have missed you, Mom."

"And I you," she whispers, squeezing my hand, "So, what will you tell the Jedi?"

"About what? About Padme'?"

"Of course. I can't imagine you'll be able to keep it secret from them." The irony of that statement is not lost on me and almost brings forth a stunned laugh.

"If they were to know, I would be expelled from the Order."

"You can't be serious."

"I told you. Attachment is forbidden. As is possession. I can't be with Padme' and be a Jedi, Mom."

"What will you do?"

"I won't stay in the Order. I can't. But…I can't be with Padme' either."

"Ani, I don't understand."

I scoot closer and gather her hands into mine, knowing instinctively that she will understand the thing I'm about to confide in her. She's the one person in this entire world with whom I feel I can be totally honest without fear of judgment or rejection. I don't have to hide anything from her. It's not until this moment that I realize that I had used Chancellor Palpatine to fill the void she had left in my life.

"Do you know how you told me earlier that you wanted to keep me here with you but that you knew that doing so would be selfish?"

"Yes."

"It's the same for me. I want to be with Padme'. I always have. But being with her would selfish. I'd be serving my own needs, not hers."

"Have you told her that?"

"Not yet. But I will."

"You're going to break her heart soon, aren't you, Ani?" she surmises sadly.

"I'm going to do the right thing."

We converse a while longer until fatigue finally gets the best of her, and she falls asleep. After tucking her into bed, I step out into corridor beyond the bedroom and start heading towards the main room of the house when I detect the sound of voices and stop short. Cliegg, Beru and Padme' are already there, speaking to one another in laughing, familial tones. I'm struck by how easily Padme' has integrated herself into the Lars family, how seamlessly we've both been integrated into their family unit and without question too…as if we've always belonged. Despite all my protesting and insecurity about that…it feels good to be accepted by them.

And while I don't really want that to change because this sort of acceptance is something I've rarely known in my life experience, particularly with the Jedi, I know that my mother is right. I can't stay here indefinitely. I also know that I can't avoid Padme' indefinitely either.

I know that I should step out from the shadows and take her aside to have the conversation with her that I don't want to have, but I don't do that either. Not yet. Despite the resolve I displayed with my mother earlier, I am really in no hurry to end whatever it is that we've been building between us these past few days. I realize what the conclusion must be, but I also want to hold on to her…just a little while longer.

Spurred by that need, I slip from the back of the house and surreptitiously make my way back towards the mechanical shed. I'm careful to stay out of Threepio and R2's lines of sight because I know if they see me, I will be unable to shake them. While their loyalty is appreciated and I do enjoy their company (to a degree), right now, I just need a few hours alone, just a brief respite before I must turn everything upside down again. Unfortunately, my hopes of achieving that peace are dashed when I find Owen already there. I stop short at the sight of him.

"Did you come out here to hide too?" he asks when he sees me.

"Actually, no," I lie smoothly, "Mom fell asleep. I was hoping to make myself useful."

"I came by earlier to sit with her but, you were already there."

"Right." My hope that my laconic demeanor will drive him away proves fruitless. He merely stands there idly as I gather up the tools that I will need to work on the water ionizer.

"You mind if I stick around and give you hand?" he asks.

"It's your shed. Knock yourself out," I tell him before disappearing under the rusted machine. I'm not there a full two seconds before I hear him ask from somewhere above me, "Can I ask you a question?" It takes everything inside of me not to groan out loud.

After shuffling from beneath the machine, I favor him with a doleful look. "Can I stop you?"

Owen appears to debate the question before he shrugs. "Based on what you did to those Tuskens, I don't doubt that you could."

I roll to my feet with a tired sigh. "Is that why you're hovering right now? Do you think I'm a threat or something?" I demand in exasperation, "You don't have to be afraid of me!"

"I don't think you're a threat. As far as I'm concerned, those Tuskens got what was coming to them." I give a terse nod of agreement before he adds, "My only regret is that I wasn't able to go with you to bring her home…not that you needed my help."

"She was my responsibility. She's my mother."

"Our mother," Owen emphasizes, surprising me with his forcefulness, "She may not have given birth to me but she's pretty much the only mother I've ever known. My own mother died when I was very young, and I barely remember her."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not looking for pity," he says, "I just want you to understand that I love her too."

"I know that."

"You don't get to monopolize her."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Isn't it?" he challenges, "We've had to share her with your memory this whole time. The least you can do is be willing to share her with us!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that we've been living with your phantom for five years! It's a little hard to compete with the legend of Anakin Skywalker, powerful Jedi knight!"

"I see. You're angry because you couldn't bring her home," I deduce in disbelief, "and I did."

"My father took 30 men with him to get Shmi back! 30! I was one of them! And only four of us returned!" he grates, "You go alone and not do only do you come back without a scratch, you bring her home alive! And, to add insult to injury, you're just a kid!"

"And that disappoints you somehow?"

"I'm not disappointed she's alive! I'm grateful," he spits, "But of course, it would be you, the golden son, who would succeed where I failed!"

I can't help but laugh at his irritation, not because I find his reasoning ridiculous but because I understand his feelings very well. This whole time, I've been churning with jealousy towards him, viewing him as a rival, my mother's replacement son and resenting him for it. While, at the same time, he has been harboring the same jealousy towards me. Of course, he understands none of this and my laughter only serves to heighten his aggravation.

"You find that funny?"

"Not funny, per se, but certainly ironic. You've been harboring bitterness towards me for being the supposed 'favored son,' when I've been harboring bitterness towards you for the same reason!"

"What?"

"I actually accused her of replacing me with you."

The hostility in his expression is replaced with incredulity. "You didn't."

"I did. So, could it be possible that we're both way off base about this?"

"It's possible…" he admits grudgingly.

"Perhaps, we should start over." I thrust out my hand to him. "I'm Anakin Skywalker."

After a wary silence, he finally grasps my hand and shakes it firmly. "Owen Lars. I guess I'm your older brother."

I purse my lips at the thought. "I've never had a brother before."

And it's true. Within the Jedi Order, masters, knights and padawans have often referred to themselves as brothers and sisters, but I had never shared that sort of sibling like closeness with anyone until Ahsoka. I wouldn't even describe the attachment I feel for Obi-Wan (and I do feel attachment) as a bond of brothers but rather one of father and son. He's always been my mentor. In the deepest recesses of my heart, I can admit that I've never truly believed that he and I ever had the potential to be equals, though I've kept striving for that end for most of my life. This tentative, newfound relationship with Owen Lars feels different.

"I've never had a brother either," he tells me.

"Do you want one?"

"It's not the worst thing I can imagine." He grins at me then, as if he's warming to the idea. "I think I could grow to like you."

"I wouldn't be too hasty with that assessment."

"Oh yeah? Why is that?"

"I have a reputation for speaking my mind. Most find it offensive."

"I'm not most."

"Remember you said that," I warn him, "Are you the one who has been doing the repairs on the water ionizer?"

"As a matter of fact, I have. Why?"

"Because, big brother," I tell him with the beginnings of a slow grin, "you should know that you do substandard work. I'm appalled really. Now let me show you where you went wrong…"