A/N: The time spans occurring in the Tatooine chapters are sourced from looking at the natural light given by the sun(s) in the movie from scene to scene. Please don't forget to drop a review if you're so inclined, and/or to vote in the poll on my bio page for your favorite chapter! Planet-sized thanks to those who do.
Chapter 26. Separation
Absence is to love what wind is to fire;
it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.
— Roger de Bussy-Rabutin
I felt like a fourteen-year-old once again. Ten years ago, Qui-Gon Jinn stormed from Watto's junk shop in frustration, and I struggled initially to keep up with his long legs as we merged with the flow of street traffic. Today, I followed Anakin Skywalker's mad dash from the same shop, and my legs hadn't grown many inches in the intervening years.
We didn't give Watto the courtesy of a goodbye, but he called out after us anyways as we rushed from his store. He couldn't help getting in one last offer to Ani to help his former master with those deadbeats, just in case.
Once we were outbound, I suspect Anakin would've gladly jumped out and pulled the cart himself to make our travel progress faster. The wheeled labor droid moved as rapidly as he could under the human male's verbal whips, but no speed slower than a 0.1 class hyperdrive engine would satisfy Anakin's desire to get to the docking bay as quickly as possible.
Mere moments after our aircraft hummed with life, Anakin flew the starship out of the bay with a reckless speed that called back to his days as a podracing pilot. Two different, animated voices shouted at him over the comm— Mos Espa airspace control officers— in two different languages. I recognized the words for "moron", "idiot", and something else I won't repeat, in both Basic and Huttese.
As the ship carried us towards the outer districts of the city, the unmistakable sight of the very same racing stadium which hosted the Boonta Eve Classic came into view. Thinking he'd like to see the place of his tremendous victory once again, I drew attention to it with an encouraging, "Ani, look."
One would have thought I'd pointed out a bland hill. Anakin's hard eyes flickered to it only for a moment before he again fixed them on the route in front of us. It was clear where his priorities were.
Canyons gouged into the ground on our left. Everywhere else, wide desert stretched as far as the eye could see. Not for the first time, I felt surprise that any life at all could survive on such a barren, unforgiving land. Years of traveling to a multitude of planets around the galaxy, several of them with extreme biomes, didn't erase the instinctual familiarity of the lush water world I called home. I marveled in awe that my species could adapt to such a wide spectrum of planets.
"We'll pass Mos Eisley on our right," Anakin announced. "The armpit of the galaxy."
I blinked, not sure if I'd heard him correctly. "What was that?"
He shook his head and shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. "That's what it's known as." He eyed me with a sardonic smile. "Charming planet, isn't it?"
Wanting to do what I could to lighten the mood, I tilted my head in the direction of the view speeding by in my nearest window. "I don't see a lot of fisheries down there." Referencing my favorite and Anakin's least favorite dish, I finished with too-innocent an attitude, "Where do the people of Tatooine catch their guelee fish?"
I was relieved to see my sarcastic question brought a genuine grin to Anakin's face. "You're a long way from home, Padmé."
The last signs of Mos Eisley fell away as we traveled beyond the outskirts of the large spaceport. Our silence morphed into a weighted air of anticipation. At the velocity with which Anakin continued to drive the cruiser across the desert, the moisture farm we were searching for would be in our sights any minute now.
My eyes kept darting over to him. His locked arms were rods sticking out from his torso as his back pressed into the chair. He looked like a coil about to spring out of the cockpit. I could only hope he remembered to land the ship first.
{Must be difficult having sworn your life to the Jedi. Not being able to go to the places you like, or do the things you like—}
{Or be with people that I love.}
The tension and impatience currently radiating off Anakin gave no doubt as to how much the pending reunion meant to him. As I remembered our conversation on the freighter, my musing voice sounded too light, too casual to my remembering ears, and my conscious stung with shame. In vain, I tried to imagine leaving my mother behind, especially on a planet like this, forbidden from remaining attached to her even in memory. Just the concept made my heart revolt.
"Ten years of waiting and not knowing are going to end in less than ten minutes." Anakin exhaled a shaky breath. "I wonder if she'll even recognize me."
I smiled at this. "It took me a few seconds, but I eventually did." Then I dared the contact and put a hand on his forearm. I was not surprised to find it was trembling slightly underneath the thick, brown robe. More seriously, I assured, "She's your mother. Of course she'll know you."
A clearly nervous Anakin met my eye. The corners of his lips curved up into a small smile of gratitude, and I felt the muscle of the arm beneath my hand relax. Then both of our gazes returned to the landscape outside the windows. We were nearing the coordinates Watto provided for us, and for this reason alone, Anakin slowed the ship. After a few more suspenseful seconds, the words fell out of his mouth in a breathy whisper. "There it is."
I finally retrieved my hand from his arm and leaned further in my chair to look below. A wide crater peered back up at us. From our altitude as we passed just off to the side of the site, I could see stairs, spots of green— plants— adorning the dwelling, and an industrial structure of some kind in the center of the excavated bowl. The rest of the residence must've been underground.
"It looks, it looks…" Anakin was mumbling, and I shifted my focus to him expectantly. Several different emotions took their turn on his face. "It looks… nice." I don't believe that word had ever been so weighted in its use before.
My eyes returned to the dry property below. I removed the filter instilled in me by a life raised on Naboo, and instead saw it through Anakin's, and even Shmi's, eyes. I compared it to the tiny apartment shared under and around a noisy, crowded anthill in the slave's quarters of Mos Espa. I imagined transitioning from the criminal world of the Hutts being just beyond your doorstep to being a day's ride on a speeder away. To go from having nothing to call yours to this large swath of land.
I smiled at my pilot. "It looks like a home."
Anakin looked back at me with poorly restricted bewilderment on his face. "It does."
After we finished our flyover, Anakin circled back around to land the cruiser some meters away from a domed entrance resting just beyond the crater's southern ridge. I silently approved of the courtesy. A landing and departing starship— especially one that moved with the urgency of one Anakin Skywalker— might kick up enough sand to blanket the inside of the crater if the wind fell just right.
I secured the gray cowl around my head and neck. As I followed Anakin through the narrow hallways towards the ramp at the rear of the aircraft, I pulled the hood of my cloak up before he had an opportunity to tell me to do so.
The suns were barely starting to dip in the sky as we crossed the sand and made our way to the hovel. Around us, mechanized stalks rose from the ground like white, isolated trees. I assumed them to be the vaporators that gave this farm its purpose.
I thought of the way Anakin knew of Shmi's absence before we'd reached Watto's shop. "Is she here?"
When I looked over at him, his forehead was furrowed— whether from concentration, or from squinting his eyes in reaction to brightness of the suns, I wasn't sure. "Her Force signature is all over this place." The lines in his brow deepened, and now I knew they were carved by frustration. "But I can't tell if I'm sensing her, or her echoes."
A series of beeps from behind us prompted me to turn. "Stay with the ship, Artoo." We needed a liaison with the comm link onboard should any message come through. I eyed Anakin again. This would be the worst possible time for Obi-Wan to summon him back to Coruscant.
Instead of continuing our direct line for the hovel, we mutually diverted towards a gray droid— a protocol model, by the looks of it— working on a non-sentient machine. There was a definite uptick in Anakin's pace as we drew nearer.
The droid turned at our approach. "Oh! Hello! How might I be of service? I am See—"
"Threepio?" Ani gazed in astonishment. The project he'd put together in another life for his mother was standing and talking right in front of him. I didn't miss the chance to witness the wide smile spreading across the young man's face.
"Oh, er." The recognition didn't come so quickly for our mechanical counterpart, but it arrived soon enough. "Oh! The maker! Oh, Master Ani! I knew you would return. I knew it!" His head swiveled just a little, and now I had the attention of his golden photo receptors. A facial recognition program embedded in his system put the context clues together in a nanosecond. "And Miss Padmé! Oh my."
I shouldn't have been surprised that he remembered my name— the memory chip in C-3PO's circuit board vastly surpassed my human one. But emotions aren't dictated by logic, and I felt a surge of endearment all the same, especially at his evident delight in seeing us. I, too, was happy to see Anakin's wonderful creation continuing to live on after so many years. It was odd seeing him with his coverings, however worn and sandblasted they looked. "Hello, Threepio."
"Bless my circuits, I'm so pleased to see you both!"
Maybe it was naive, but I wanted to take the fact that this protocol droid was out here doing presumably routine work as a sign that all might be well. I wanted to believe it was a normal day for the inhabitants of this homestead— a day which was about to become celebratory and joyous.
With a deliberate air, Anakin announced what I assume he'd waited ten long years to say. "I've come to see my mother."
"Oh, um." To the best of its ability, the droid suddenly became flustered. In a split-second, that sinking, acidic feeling of concern crept its way back into my gut. "I think perhaps we better go indoors."
Anakin shared a look with me. His expression was grim. I tried to offer back all the comfort I could in our brief and wordless exchange.
Threepio led the way towards the hovel, chattering on about the workings of the vaporators as he did so. I didn't hear much of the explanation over how the farm worked— I was too focused on reading Anakin's body language. The tunnel of the hovel became rather dark fairly quickly, though a beacon of daylight shone from around the curved stairwell at the bottom. The droid didn't descend the steps gracefully or rapidly, hampered as he was by his joints. By the sound of his impatient exhales in front of me, I think Ani was resisting the urge to shove Threepio out of the way.
The steps were large, but the hem of my long cloak worked with me as I followed the advancing pair into the dwelling. My eyes scanned the abode quickly and settled on a figure coming to meet us at the landing below. He was brown haired and young— perhaps no older than Anakin or me— and dressed in the rough fabric that was the trademark of Tatooine's culture.
Threepio was enthusiastic in his introduction. "Master Owen, might I present two most important visitors!"
The man, evidently Owen, was regarding us with watchful, suspicious eyes. I got the impression this home didn't frequently incur random people dropping by.
"I'm Anakin Skywalker."
Immediately, the young man's face changed. Gone was the air of suspicion. Yet the hope I was desperately clinging to for Shmi's sake faltered. At the news of her son's arrival, Owen looked visibly sad and resigned. He began fiddling with the rag in his hands anxiously.
His voice matched his face. "Owen Lars." He gestured at the young, blonde woman who came to stand by his side. Her hair was parted down the middle, and neat buns sat upon the back of her head. "This is my girlfriend, Beru."
She regarded us with a shy but friendly smile. "Hello." Something in her hazel eyes made my tether to hope that much thinner.
I took my introduction into my own hands. "I'm Padmé."
Without cracking a smile, Owen directed his words to Anakin. "I guess I'm your stepbrother." My lips parted in a quiet gasp at this news. All this time, Anakin had a family on Tatooine. "I had a feeling you might show up one day." He fidgeted with the dirty towel in his grip that much more aimlessly.
I waited with one last hopeful breath for Owen to call out for the mother to join us from wherever she was in the home. He didn't.
There was no mood of celebration at our appearance. There was no beckoning of Shmi, no grins, no hugs, no happy tears.
As if ready to inspect the grounds himself with or without their permission, Anakin gravitated a few steps more into the home. I followed him with my eyes if not yet with my step. He asked his inquiry as he if already knew the answer but couldn't help himself. "Is my mother here?"
"No, she's not." The graveled voice came from an approaching man in a hover chair. A collection of bandages wrapped around his right thigh where the rest of the leg should've been. His features were too similar to Owen's for them not to be related. The years in the harsh desert climate had not been kind to his skin, but it was the pain etched around his eyes that aged him the most. "Cliegg Lars." He leaned forward in his chair and extended an open palm. Anakin met it for a quick shake. "Shmi is my wife." His breath noticeably caught, as if something about what he'd just said agonized him. Once again, there was no sign of celebrating the coming of their henceforth absent family member. Instead, he turned his chair back in the direction from where he'd come. "We should go inside. We have a lot to talk about."
I could only see the back of Anakin's head. It dipped low for a moment before he finally made to follow the older man.
Owen politely gestured for me to go on ahead, and I crossed in front of him and Beru to slowly catch up to Anakin. I could see we were heading towards a long table situated in an alcove opposite the stairs. Behind me, Cliegg's son asked, "How did you know where to find us?"
Ani looked over his shoulder to speak to the man even as he continued walking towards the table. "Watto."
"We just came from Mos Espa," I elaborated.
Low on Anakin's left, Cliegg shook his head. "I only regret I didn't find her sooner and get her out of there faster."
"Are you in the habit of marrying your slaves?"
The edge in Anakin's voice mirrored a lingering feeling of my own. Watto very clearly told us he sold Shmi to a moisture farmer.
Cliegg shook his head gravely. "It wasn't like that at all. I abhor the slave trade." The five of us gathered round the table. The chair at the head of it had already been removed, and the injured man maneuvered himself to the spot as if he'd already done it several times before.
I positioned myself next to Anakin, who sat opposite of Owen. Beru was the only one who did not immediately join us in her seat. "I'll get us something to drink."
Cliegg was still looking ardently at Ani. "I went to that shop looking for a rare part. No one had it in Mos Eisley. Watto is a scoundrel, but you know better than anyone— he gets his claws on stock that no one else does. When I saw your mother… I couldn't even remember what I'd traveled all that way for. I made more trips to Mos Espa in those two weeks than I'd ever made in my life."
The implication of love at first sight should have resonated as romantic. Instead, I— and no doubt Ani— registered the deep sense of grief in Cliegg's timber.
Owen, perhaps coming to the additional defense of his father, leaned forward in his chair and firmly affirmed, "We nearly went bankrupt getting her away from Watto. It almost cost us the farm." For such a modestly dressed man, there was a passionate authenticity in his voice that would have humbled Coruscant's best orators. "We'd do it all over again."
I eyed the two men opposite me. I didn't need a Force ability or to know Shmi hadn't just been adopted by these people. She was dearly, fiercely loved.
There was a long moment of poignant silence. We tensely listened as Beru poured drinks into cups nearby. I gathered that the kitchen was located just off the opening in the corner of the room she'd departed through. As the seconds ticked by, I found the thickness of my cloak too cumbersome for my narrow spot. Standing once more, I undid the clasp, lowered the hood, and removed my cowl.
Anakin sat straighter in his seat and swallowed. He didn't have the patience to wait for Beru's return and no one could blame him for it. "What happened to her?"
Cliegg's unfocused eyes drifted to the center of the table. "It was just before dawn. They came out of nowhere— a hunting party of Tuskens Raiders." Anakin stiffened visibly at my side. The title was unknown to me, but my stomach nevertheless churned at his reaction to it. "Your mother had gone out early like she always did to collect mushrooms that grow off the vaporators."
Always did. Past tense. Cloak now draped over the back of my chair, I sat in it and scooted closer to the table. My hands folded in my lap as I listened to Cliegg's tale with growing trepidation.
Anakin was a statue on my left. His eyes were shielded from everyone as they remained fixated on the table. No one touched Beru's kindly brought drinks that she'd placed in the center. "From the tracks, she was about halfway home… when they took her. These Tuskens walk like men, but they're vicious, mindless monsters." This, Ani reacted to. His jaw clenched so hard I thought it would break, and his breathing became more labored. "Thirty of us went out after her, four of us came back." My chest tightened at hearing of this loss of valiant life. "I'd be out there with them, but after I lost my leg, I just couldn't ride anymore un-until I heal. I don't want to give up on her, but she's been gone a month." Sorrow leaked out of Cliegg in the crease of his eyes, the hitch of his breath, and the way every movement seemed to be a burden that had nothing to do with his leg. "There's little hope she's lasted this long."
My eyes glued themselves to Anakin's face. I watched him process these gruesome words and immediately reject them. He came to a stand with apparent purpose and started to move away from the table. In the pit of my heart, I already knew what was happening, and my insides began to scream.
"Where are you going?" Owen released the question, the answer to which would've been obvious to anyone who knew Anakin.
The resulting tone was adamant. Exasperated. "To find my mother."
Cliegg's face was compassionate. He was probably the only other person who could acutely understand the desperate need as deeply as Anakin. But his words were firm. "Your mother's dead, son. Accept it."
The facts Cliegg laid bare were far worse than anything I had dared imagine, and logic was, horrifically, on the side of his argument. But I was all too aware of Anakin's continued nightmares. I couldn't believe the same mythical, benevolent Force that aided the Jedi would torment him with visions of his mother calling to him after she'd already passed.
Anakin's determined stare returned to Cliegg. "Do you have transportation you can lend me?"
The beseeching man put his left arm on table to turn even more in Ani's direction. He continued to dole out the very first fatherly advice he'd ever given his stepson. "Don't forfeit your life to save someone who's already gone."
The plea fell on deaf ears and a stubborn heart. "I'm going after her. Do you have transport I can use or not?"
"I have a speeder," Owen offered. His voice didn't sound optimistic. "But—
"But?"
"The fuel lines inside the engine ruptured."
Anakin squared himself opposite his newly found sibling. "Do you have the parts?"
"Yes," Owen amended. "But it's a complicated fix. It's a full day's job to take the bike apart and put it back together."
Anakin shook his head. "Not for me."
Barely two hours later, Anakin was putting the finishing touches on the rustic speeder. I'd worriedly hovered around him and Owen as they worked— well, as the blond brother worked, and his brunette counterpart mostly watched in awe— but had ventured down below again to help Beru in the kitchen. She'd had the wise idea to prepare food and a flask of water for Anakin. It was not an easy feat to tear myself from his side, but I knew that once that bike was fixed, Anakin was leaving— without or without the culinary supplies. For once, it wouldn't matter to him that he hadn't eaten anything in hours. I didn't have much hope that he'd stop to consume anything we packed for him during his search for his mother, but I wouldn't let him leave with nothing.
As I watched Beru begin to tuck the already plentiful meal into its preservation container, I only bit my lip for a moment before prompting, "Can you add more?"
Beru lifted her benign eyes at me with a smile. "Does he have that big of an appetite?"
Well, yes. But that wasn't why I'd asked her to add more food. "So that there's something for Shmi. Just in case."
The young girl looked at me with eyes of condolence. Dutifully, though without apparent heart, she added additional rations.
Cliegg entered on his hover chair and came to a stop further along the alley way of the elongated kitchen. He regarded us thoughtfully. It seemed he didn't know what to say for a moment, until, "He's taller than we expected."
"Yes," I mumbled. A ghost of a smile appeared on my cheeks. "He gets that reaction a lot."
"And I keep growing."
I spun at the sound of Anakin's low voice and my heart leaped into my throat. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against it with one arm. I had only been out of his presence for a few minutes, but my body exalted the sight of him like it had been weeks.
Owen was awkwardly standing behind him higher on the curved staircase. Anakin dropped his arm, and his stepbrother moved passed him and then me to stand by Beru. He wiped his hands, black with oily grease, on a rag his girlfriend passed to him. "How will you know where to start? The Tuskens—" his face darkened at the word, "—are bound to have moved camp since the rescue party found them."
"The Force will guide me. It's been calling me to her for weeks."
The trio didn't seem to know what to make of that, and Anakin was clearly under no motivation to explain. He took a single step forward and picked the food bundle and flask off the counter. This was it.
The words blurted out of my mouth without thought from my mind or protest from my heart. "Let me come with you."
Anakin froze in the doorway. His impassioned eyes bore into mine with all the intensity of Tatooine's suns. "No," he breathed. "That's not an option." He stared at me for an extended moment, his eyes trailing over my face like he was memorizing every curve. My lips parted, but emotion was blocking my airway and no words made it out. Those exquisite eyes didn't leave me as he directed his next remarks to the others. "Watch over her. She's important to me."
The arms of my heart reached out to him, but he'd already turned. Briskly, he made his way up to the dining area. I didn't take my eyes off of him until the tip of his last boot disappeared up the staircase.
That can't be it. That can't be our goodbye.
I heard Beru's voice from over my shoulder. "The Force has been calling to him? What did he mean?"
I tore my eyes away from the archway to look at the young woman. She'd asked the question, but they were all staring at me. I knew why.
"Anakin has had—" I paused, averse to using the term 'nightmares' in front of this particular group of people who obviously adored Shmi, "—dreams about his mother." I shifted in my stance, uncomfortable discussing Anakin's visions without him there. He could explain them so much better than I. "He's… seen her."
Shmi's husband looked optimistic, and an energy returned to him as he asked, "Alive?"
I felt a wave of guilt. I never should have begun an explanation at all. There was a fine line between excusing Anakin's behavior and giving the others unfounded hope.
"Yes, but," I shook my head, at a loss for how to answer truthfully without adding to their heartache.
{She is suffering, Padmé.}
I swallowed, and finally concluded, "Anakin knows it is very important he finds her… quickly."
My face and tone must have given away what my words only hinted at. Cliegg's chin trembled, and his chin dropped into his chest. "Oh, oh, Shmi…"
Beru raised a hand to cover her mouth, and Owen looked away from us to stare past me towards the steps.
Almost of their own accord, my eyes drifted down to Cliegg's leg, and my mood began to shift from mournful concern to growing panic. "How many did you say went out after her?"
Cliegg looked up at me, agony coloring his face. "Thirty."
"And," I swallowed. I suddenly needed to know exactly what Anakin was facing. "How many came back?"
"Four."
Something in Cliegg's gaze ran my blood cold. He, and the others, were looking at me the way I'd been looking at them at the table earlier. Sorrowful. Empathetic.
As if I was suddenly the bereaved.
They didn't expect Anakin to come back.
A thankfully empty cup on the counter was knocked over by my wayward hand as I spun. It clattered behind me, but I didn't stop to pick it up. A default politeness made me sputter an "Excuse me," as I quickly ran up the steps.
Once in the atrium, I lifted the blue hem on my skirt as I ran up the stairs, praying with all my might that he hadn't already left. My ears listened for any sound of a bike's engine.
I raced through the surface hovel and out onto the landscape. Desperate eyes searched the horizon in front of me. They found him standing to my left, the twin suns refueling their golden child in a bath of orange light.
Anakin had stood with his back to the hovel, facing the sunset, but he turned at my appearance. Perhaps he was calling on the Force to direct him which way to start his search. Perhaps he already had his answer and was mentally preparing himself. Or, maybe, he'd been waiting for me, knowing I'd surely come to get a more personal goodbye than what was offered in the kitchen in front of the others.
I still wasn't ready to see him face the dangers by himself. I began walking towards Anakin, ready to join if he said the word. I had a small but efficient blaster aboard the cruiser— I could have it in my hand in under two minutes if I ran. Just before I came to a stop before him, my eyes darted to the speeder. It would be a tight fit, but two could make it work, if we sat close together. But then— his mother, where would she sit…?
As if he could read my thoughts, Anakin interjected on to them, "You're going to have to stay here." But then he misread the cause of my anxiety. "These are good people, Padmé. You'll be safe."
My own safety was the furthest thing from my mind.
Four survivors, from a rescue party of thirty. Even being a Jedi in training, the odds facing Anakin…
'Come back to me,' I wanted to plead. 'Come back, come back, I haven't told you yet—' I stopped myself before the words I'd been pushing down since Varykino spilled from my lips. I couldn't let them out, not now, not when he needed the upmost clarity of mind.
Unable and unwilling to let the words loose, I poured all the emotions I could and could not voice into one desperate prayer of his name. "Anakin," I exclaimed, rushing forward into him. The embrace from my podrace victory dream became reality as I stood on the tips of my toes to encircle my arms around him as much as possible. I pressed myself into him. He was warm, lean, and so very much alive. I hated myself for not being able to stop from breathing in the scent of him as if for the last time.
Anakin's arms had come around me without hesitation the second I'd stepped towards him, and they enveloped me low at the back as he clung me to him with just as much, if not even more, vigor. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, his nose embedded in my hair. I heard and felt him inhale deeply— like his lungs had just learned how.
In the back of mind, possibly where my soul met my body, a distinct voice pressed me to see how right it felt to be in Anakin's arms.
Slowly, we pulled apart. I knew the sooner he left the sooner he could return, but my hands didn't understand the logic, and they struggled to detach. At first, they only moved from his back to his shoulders, then to his upper arms, then his forearms. I suppressed another wave of panic as I realized my hands understood a possibility a second before the rest of my brain did.
What if this is the last time I touch him?
His progression was similar to mine, and our eyes stayed locked as we gradually separated. I saw a hardened look of resolution on his face, but he gave me the softest of smiles, and I tried to give him a reassuring one in return. Finally, he turned to stalk towards the speeder. So strong was the urge to follow him that I actually made myself take several steps backwards in the opposite direction.
Over his shoulder, he called, "I won't be long."
Such a simple phrase was something one would say to their wife as they left to run an errand. It was something a person would say when they were leaving work and wanted to let their partner know they were heading home to them.
Neither of these scenarios described us, but what mattered was that he sounded confident and his words were a promise, and Anakin was deadly serious about his promises. I let out a rattled sigh, not trusting my voice to properly answer him. I was still resisting the push to follow. To tell him he wasn't the funny little boy I'd always know from Tatooine. To tell him he was important to me, too. To tell him he'd turned my galaxy upside down in a matter of days and I didn't know how to reset it back to how it had been anymore.
I bit down on my lips until I almost drew blood. I wouldn't do that to Anakin. Not now.
But my heart had other plans, and a fierce battle waged within me. In a momentary lapse of control, my logical brain was roughly shoved aside as my feelings raced to the surface. But Anakin had already mounted the speeder, and— just as I was opening my mouth to call out to him— he became a rapidly moving blur. Within moments, he was no more than a black dot on the horizon, and I was alone.
