AN:

Cheire: I know you wanted my last story to have a happy ending, sorry about that! :D While I haven't completely decided yet where this story will end (I'm waiting to see what feels and flows right) I will keep what you want in mind, and try not to kill them off this time :D xoxo

Wild Wolves

As a friendly fire
Wasn't quite enough
You go and drop this
Bomb on us

The devil stood there
Drenched in sand
I'm here to give you a
Helping hand

"I'm so sorry to hear what you've been going through." Beru sympathized, placing two coffees and a glass of water on the dining table. "But I just know Ben will get your daughter back."

"Thanks." Padme's voice was faint – her mouth hid behind the coffee mug she just took a sip from.

"You can stay here as long as you like." Beru assured with a friendly smile.

Padme offered a vague nod. Her eyes were warm, displaying the gratitude she couldn't bring herself to verbally express. "I appreciate that."

"So," Beru turned to the boy, keeping her tone upbeat. "Luke right? Tell me about yourself. Have any hobbies?"

Luke coyly shrugged, and Padme placed a comforting arm over his shoulder, knowing it was difficult for them to interact normally these days.

"He uh – he likes ships a lot." Padme informed, feigning excitement to get her son to relax.

"Really?" The corners of Beru's mouth lifted. "Well, we've got a bunch of toys in the shed from when uh – well, they're just sitting there collecting dust, dying to be played with."

Luke offered her a shy but interested grin.

"That sounds nice, right?" Padme encouraged and Luke nodded.

"Go ahead!" Beru cheered. And Luke jumped up at the chance to go play.

Owen arrived home shortly after.

He was grumbling about the day he had as Beru got up to kiss him hello.

"Oh." He spoke once he saw Padme sitting at the table. "Hi."

"Hi," She breathed out. "I'm Pad–"

"I remember." He loosed off, plopping himself on the chair at the end of the table. He pulled off his boots, as Padme sat there awkwardly, waiting for Beru to return from getting him a drink from the kitchen. There was quite a contrast in the energies they gave off. Beru was warm and inviting. Owen wasn't as friendly – perhaps they were the yin to the other's yang.

"I'm sorry about your daughter." He eventually added. Padme remained quiet but her eyes met him with appreciation.

The next morning, Padme and Beru sat there with their morning coffees, watching Owen teach Luke how to use the vaporators to gather humidity in the air, as Owen described how moisture farming works by using garden farming analogies.

"Owen has an unusual approach to teaching." Padme lightly chuckled.

"Yeah." Beru nodded as she gazed at her husband imparting his wisdom like a man who takes pride in fatherhood. She paused for a moment, admiring how Luke looked up at his uncle, hanging onto every word. "...He always says you don't want a rose garden all year round. The fascination will fade over time. You gotta work for it to maintain its beauty. You need the weeds... " Beru may have casually let the words roll off her tongue, but Padme could see she really believed in Owen's insight. "You spend a day picking out the weeds and, by the end, the roses'll look that much brighter."

Padme contemplated that thought, her eyes drifted off. "...I've been trying to give my kids a rose garden." She pondered. "I should be teaching them to grow one."

"Babe, have you seen my – oh." Owen barged into the living room later that night. Padme was sitting on the couch with a glass of wine.

"Sorry Beru went to bed." Padme answered.

"I should do the same." He grunted out as he made his way to the armchair in the corner. "Been a long day."

"...I really appreciate everything you're doing for us, keeping Luke company, letting us stay." She finally said – the words came out like a puff of smoke.

"Thank Beru." He sighed, "She's always been sentimental about family."

There was an awkward silence. The only distraction was the faint sounds coming from the TV.

"I uh. . .I heard about your husband's death a few years ago." He mentioned after a beat. "I'm sorry."

And Padme felt a cold shiver pass through her before repositioning herself on the chair. "Guess I should say the same to you. You and Anakin were basically related–"

"–No." He cut her off. His voice a low gruff. "I hardly knew the guy."

He rested his head back. "With Shmi gone, there's really nothing connecting us." He clicked his tongue, breaking into a bitter chuckle. "Never reached out once."

Padme's body closed up, her hands clinging onto her opposite elbows, feeling the discomfort in an otherwise comfortable chair. "Well – sometimes life just. . .gets in the way."

"And some people are just cold." He quipped.

Padme finally made eye contact. "Him. . .or you?"

He could sense a little playful mockery.

"Fair enough." He grinned as his eyes leveled with hers – they exchanged a fonder glance now. Probably the first time he smiled at her during the two days she's been here. "Guess it goes both ways."

He let out a rough exhale, realizing he could've been a little warmer towards her. "You're a guest in my house. The least I can do is be accommodating."

And the desert brought
News from the west
This could be your biggest test
Grab your gun and your survival kit
We're gonna get through the very worst of this

"The boy's soft." Owen grumbled as he got into bed that night.

"Owen, come on. You like him and you know it." Beru teased lightly, rolling over to face him.

"Did I say I didn't like him? I just said he's soft." He shrugged, propping up his pillow to rest his back on it as he sat up. "He needs a father figure."

"He has Ben." She interjected.

Owen scoffed. "Yeah 'cause he did such a bang-up job with Anakin."

"That's not fair." Now Beru pulled herself up to lean against the headboard. "We don't know what went on."

"You're right." He huffed, rubbing his eyes. "Just pisses me off. . .what that guy did. Someone should've been able to control him."

"Well, you remember what Shmi used to say, you can't tame wild wolves, but you can try to understand them."

"Nah." He shook his head, going off. "That kid was mad, bad and dangerous to know. The kid she described was not the person we met."

"Well – think about it, you grew up with his mother's love. He didn't."

"Padme probably made up for that. If she overcompensated as much as she does with the boy." He derided. "...Look at the mess he left his kids. They don't deserve that... And what are Ben and Padme doing? Dragging them around, providing them no sense of stability."

"Owen." She warned gently. "Owen, it's not our place."

"Like hell it isn't. That's Shmi's grandson. And she was like a second mother to me... " He let out a deep breath, letting the tension exit his body. "Those kids were born into one of the most broken homes, barely have enough of one parent. . .when there are many couples out there, dying to give their all."

"Like us." She added weakly, almost hurt by his words. "Couples that plan for a future, buy toys that their unborn baby will never see?"

Owen, realizing it wasn't just his own feelings at stake, turned to his wife with apologetic mindfulness. "Oh Beru. I'm sorry."

She fidgeted. "You say it doesn't bother you that I lost the baby. . .but the way you're reacting to them–"

"–was insensitive." He stated firmly, wrapping his arm around her to pull her in for a hug. "...If it's in the cards, it'll happen. We'll keep trying. And if not, it's okay." He soothed, kissing her forehead. "Really... You are my family."

Padme lied awake in the guest room, struggling to get some sleep after tucking her son into bed. It was difficult to stay positive for Luke when Obi-Wan wasn't answering his comlink – and all she can think about is whether her daughter is safe.

She was very grateful for Owen and Beru, and the interest they took in their nephew. Owen was a little rough around the edges but he was a good man. And a good man who isn't necessary always nice is far better than a nice man who wasn't necessarily good. Luke was lucky enough to have a truly kind uncle and aunt, even if Owen has made it clear he wasn't very fond of Anakin. Perhaps it was brotherly rivalry. Obi-Wan and Anakin had that relationship at times.

Maybe Anakin was the problem. He didn't have their discipline. Owen and Obi-Wan both pride themselves on putting in hard work, exhibiting self-control and sacrificing for something bigger than them – for Obi-Wan it was the republic, for Owen it was his family.

Anakin was far more reckless, overindulgent – dare she say, selfish. And you know what they say, it's okay to be a dangerous man. But it's not okay if you're a dangerous man who can't control it. He wasn't cautious, he hated any form of limitation. He was always going to test the boundaries anyone else put forth. And she loved the wildness in him, even at times when she knew better.

As she heard Owen's grunts and Beru's moans through the wall as they made love that night, Padme wondered whether she should've opted for the simple life. Clearly they were fulfilled, in love, humble, happy... They didn't demand more or crave more other than to get what they earned. And they appreciated the life they built themselves.

And while Padme was never one to fall into the trap of greed, she was enticed by all the excitement surrounding Anakin.

Her whole life she was an avid rule-follower, she held herself to high standards. Integrity meant everything, and she never wanted to compromise her values. But she had spent her whole life being the adult in the room. Any adolescent rebelliousness was reserved for her job, finding new and creative ways to serve and protect her people, her planet. It was all she knew.

The idea of having any personal passions was an after-thought. And when she did ever think about settling down, she imagined it would be with someone like the men she knew in Naboo. The diplomats, the politicians, the prim and proper, refined men that come from "good families" as they called it (usually meant wealthy) – the ones all the good girls married – the cookie-cutter molds. And it wasn't very appealing to her. Padme had much more romantic ideals than to be enticed by money or lifestyle.

She just wanted something more out of life – something different, authentic, intimate. She craved adventure. In higher societies, like the one she worked in, marriage looked like a transaction, an agreement devoid of passion. And she didn't want that. She wanted what her parents had, what Owen and Beru had – to be married for no reason other than mutual love and respect.

She should've known her and Anakin's love would never be truly fulfilled. All the signs were there and yet she jumped in with both feet, allured by his wild heart leading hers astray. She took the risk and explored the unknown – probably romanticized it more than she should have. But so few know what it feels like to be loved by someone whose flame burned so bright, and what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that burning passion.

Anakin was hardly a safe choice. You never knew what you were going to get from one day to the next with him. And she had to admit that Owen was right, sometimes he was so cold. When he hated, he hated hard.

But when he loved, he loved harder. And she remembered it vividly, like it was yesterday.

There's something to be said about a dangerous man whose hands had enough strength, power and aggression in them to choke, crush and kill another and yet could handle her with such care, delicately worshipping her.

She reluctantly pictured him hovering over her. His rugged handsomeness, his soft, mischievous smirk that formed the most knee-buckling smile lines, and his delicately defined bone structure made her weak. His dark blonde fringe beautifully fell across his forehead, his piercing blue eyes gazed at her with gentleness yet intensity – from his eyes comes honesty, a meaningful promise that he will nurture her as he seizes her.

He begins unbuttoning her blouse, letting it fall to her sides, exposing her breasts. His fingers ever so gently tracing every edge and curve of her body. The subtlety of his touch left a palpable trail – it was almost too much. She closed her eyes as an exhale left her lips in a dim haze. The sound of her own breath surrendering was deafening.

He could perfectly balance rough and gentle rhythms – sometimes he possessed her fiercely. He grabbed her thighs, spread her legs for his writhing hips to wriggle in between, positioning her the way he wanted, taking ownership of her. But then, he caressed her gently. His hand lightly cradled her neck like he was shielding the most vulnerable, sensitive parts of her from harm, as he stole kisses.

When he loves you and his red hot fiery sun shines on you, you really feel it – you are the most important person in the room, and his blind obsession makes him completely, loyally devoted to you. But when he's mad, the light is gone... you're left out in the cold – he can cast one hell of a shadow.

He let her know she was his – and only his – and his rageful passion makes her yearn to be his, to be engulfed in his fire, to be made love to the way only he knew how. He made her want no one but him. The tip of his throbbing erection barely slides over her entrance in between her legs, teasing her, tempting her. Her fingers now splayed across his back, clawing into him. He had her pleading, crying, begging for him to take her.

She would always succumb to him. Not even wild wolves in Tatooine could get her to stop. Because asking to be immersed in the pleasure that only he could give was the same as asking to feel alive.

So give her danger, give her risk, because she'd rather give into him and all the uncertainty that came with it, than to have picked a different path, a safer, stable road, and know exactly what life would look like from here on out.

Maybe that's what this memory is all about – to remind her that she still has some of that fire in her, to believe her daughter will be home soon, to fight against the Empire, to build the future she wants for her children. She was never one to run away from a challenge before and she certainly wasn't going to back down now.

Although, as far as Anakin goes, now, after 10 years of loneliness (10 years with the absence of the man with whom she shared all the sparks in the world) she worshipped and cursed the day she married him.

And my soul is a dark place
But I know your love
I know your love

And my soul is a lonely one
And I'm not alone
I'm not alone

Wild wolves always stare me out
I'm not running
I'm not running away

Athlete - Wild Wolves