Disclaimer: All things Star Wars belong to Lucasfilm.
At the Homestead
by ami-padme
(ami_padme@yahoo.com)
Chapter 7
Padmé and Anakin finally returned from their long talk in the garage.
Anakin looked like hell.
Owen watched him closely. The fury
Anakin had worn all over his face when he first returned was gone. Now, he looked hollow and depressed. His arm was draped around Padmé's shoulder,
and he leaned against her heavily. It
made for an odd sight – Padmé was so slight and small, but she looked as though
she were the only thing holding him up, and keeping him on his feet.
Owen supposed it could have been worse.
Much worse. Anakin might have
needed her help, but he was holding on.
Dad was watching Anakin as well, trying to get a read on how he was
coping. Owen wasn't sure what his
father saw, but he was fidgeting uncomfortably in his hoverchair, and glancing
furtively at Owen and Beru. He wanted
their permission to proceed. Owen
frowned at him. Yes, there were
questions that they needed to deal with, but he was loath to push Anakin into
anything he wasn't ready for yet. Beru
apparently agreed, and Owen saw her give Dad the tiniest shake of her head.
Anakin didn't seem to notice their uneasiness.
He pulled away from Padmé and sunk heavily into one of the chairs in the
small sitting room. She remained
standing next to him.
To Owen's surprise, Anakin brought up the subject Dad wanted to address without
any prompting from them. "Have you
already decided on…" he swallowed hard "…on arrangements?"
"No, we haven't decided a thing," Dad said. "We weren't about to do anything without discussing it with
you first, son."
"Thank you," Anakin said sincerely.
"I appreciate that."
Owen waved him off. "You're her
son. You don't have to thank us."
Anakin glanced at Dad. "You must
have some sort of plans in mind though.
What would you have done if I weren't here?"
"Well…we would lay her to rest here on the farm," he answered. "With the other members of our
family. We were thinking of having a
short ceremony. Just us."
"Did you have any ideas?" Beru asked. "Or would our plans be all right?" She was anxious, though she tried not to
show it. Owen certainly understood why.
They did want to take Anakin's wishes into account, and didn't want to
make the situation any worse by getting into a disagreement over what to
do. But, they were also Shmi's family,
and they needed resolution, especially Dad.
If Anakin wanted to take his mother back to Coruscant and carry out some
Jedi ritual…or if he had some other plan where it would be impossible for them
to compromise…
Anakin didn't answer. He sighed and
shrunk in his chair a little. Padmé
squeezed his shoulder and said softly, "We don't have to make any
decisions right away. If you need time
to think about what you want, Anakin, you should take it. I'm sure they understand."
He was staring at the floor, and seemed to be very far away in his
thoughts. "You know," he
whispered, "she was really happy here." He closed his eyes, made the decision, and snapped them back
open. "This was her home. She belongs here. Whatever you have planned is fine."
Owen watched his father sigh with great relief. "Thank you, Anakin," he said. "We'll give her a proper rest."
"I haven't told you how grateful I am that you freed her," Anakin
said, his voice a whisper. "And
that she had something good in her life…before, before she…"
"I loved your mother. Don't feel
like you owe me a thing. I'm just sorry
that we weren't able to save –"
Anakin shook his head fiercely. Dad
never finished the sentence.
Owen stood up slowly. "We could
have the ceremony today, if that's all right with both of you." He actually knew it was fine with his
father; he waited for Anakin to answer.
His response was to stand as well, and say, "I want to – let me prepare
the grave."
"Of course," Owen replied.
"I'll show you where the tools are."
Anakin followed him closely into the main plaza. He grabbed two shovels, handing one to Anakin. He also grabbed four sand barriers. The two of them went back up through the
house and out into the farm.
Anakin wandered to a stop in front of the smaller headstone while Owen dropped
the barriers and his shovel on the spot next to his mother's grave, the spot
that would now be Shmi's. "How old
was she?" he asked.
"A little less than a month," Owen answered. "The birth and delivery were very
difficult. My mother died just before
she did."
Anakin's face was set in grief.
"What did you do…after that?"
"Well…I…" Owen stumbled for
the words. Honestly, he still didn't
know how he and his father had gotten through that. But that wasn't what Anakin needed to hear now, and Owen was
willing to commiserate if it would help his stepbrother cope.
Anakin, though, had already shrugged off his own question, and readied his
shovel instead. "Right here?"
he asked, gesturing to the general area where Owen was standing. Owen picked up his own shovel and nodded,
and together they started digging.
Soon, they were pushing the barriers into the ground, forming a small
wall along the sides of the grave, so that the sand wouldn't slide back down into
it.
"Weren't you angry?" Anakin asked after a long silence.
"I was," Owen answered.
"There wasn't really anyone to be angry with – my mother was sick
and there was nothing we could do for either of them – but that didn't do much
to stop me. I was mad at everyone and
everything for a long time. Now, I do
have someone to blame. And I can't do a
damn thing about it." He shook his
head. "Those Tuskens…the worst
part is, I know they're not done.
There'll be no one here to fight them the next time they come."
Anakin spiked his shovel hard into the sand with a grunt. He left it there, standing straight up out
of the ground.
"Anakin?"
"They won't come back," he said with effort.
Owen came close to asking, "What do you mean?" but managed to stop
himself short. He wasn't prepared to
ask Anakin exactly what had happened when he found Shmi, and the look in
Anakin's eyes clearly said that he wasn't ready to talk about it. Owen was sure Anakin had made them pay for
at least part of what they had done, to Shmi, to his father, and to
everyone in the community. So, he
simply said, "Good," and left it at that. Anakin wrenched his shovel out, and they got back to their task.
"You couldn't have been very old when your mother died," Anakin said.
"No, I wasn't."
Anakin stepped down into the growing hole, and kept digging, lifting the sand
up and over the barriers. "I guess
it must have been hard for you, when your father married my mother."
"Not at all." Owen jumped
down, joining Anakin. "I mean,
there was a part of me that was sad. I
guess I'll always be sad. But it was so
good to see Dad happy again. Anything
was worth that. Besides, your mother
was wonderful. She made everything
easy. I was glad when they got
married."
"What kind of wedding did they have?" Anakin asked.
"They went to a cleric who lives in Anchorhead. It was a simple ceremony."
"Did you stand for her?"
"Technically, no," Owen said.
"I had to act as her witness for official reasons, but I was there
for my father."
"So then who –?"
"She didn't want anyone, really. She
wanted you as her witness, even in your absence…she felt that it was such a
family role that she didn't want one of her friends doing it in your
place." Anakin grimaced and looked
away. "It was a wonderful day, she
was very happy. So was Dad. I don't know what he'll do now."
"He has you," Anakin said, "and you're lucky to have your
father. That must help in getting
through something like this. Both
times."
Owen spared Anakin a curious glance as he checked the walls of the grave one
last time to make sure they would continue to hold. He knew that Anakin had never known his father…all Shmi had said
was that it was just her and her son, until he had left for Coruscant. "It does help. Won't your Master be able to help you?"
Anakin paused again, letting the sand fall off his shovel and back into the
hole. "I'm sure he'll try
to." He hastily added, "Yes,
he'll help, of course he will."
Owen didn't know what to make of Anakin's answer, or his tone, but didn't press
him. They now had to throw the sand
pretty high to clear it out of the grave.
They would be done soon.
"I hope you know you and Padmé are welcome to stay as long as you
want. We're actually hoping that you'll
stay. This isn't how we wanted to meet
you."
"This isn't how I wanted to come home," he said bluntly. "I don't know if we can stay. Maybe, for a short while…I'm certainly in no
hurry to get back. And your family has
been very kind to us."
"You are family, Anakin.
You just didn't know it."
Owen thought, briefly, that he saw a small smile cross Anakin's face. It passed, and the two tried to finish their
work.