A free person has no value. At least, they don't need to know how many Wupiupis they'd sell for.
Anakin always hoped he would be able to forget as well. His worth -roughly twelve thousand Wupiupis, or eight thousand credits- isn't exactly impressive, but could buy a new speeder.
("Please don't let him sell me for a speeder, Mom!" A six-year-old cries)
Often, if anyone were to bargain for Anakin, Watto would raise the price almost double. Anakin knows it's not out of kindness or even that Watto thinks he's really worth that much.
It's all about the game of greed. How high can he go before the asker backs out?
But now, Anakin's free. He can forget all about numbers and factors like the mark under his hair from when Watto hit him over a broken turbine. Or constantly having to over or underestimate his own skills to avoid getting taken.
Free people get to make the offers and buy products. They get to search an item up and down before deciding if it's really worth the money. They make the prices.
And yet, Anakin can't seem to let his value go. Eight thousand Wupiupis, the number is burned into his head like the scars he earned from slavery.
Becoming a Jedi changed that number, though. After a long night of searching the Jedi Temple's archives, Anakin finds that a Pawadan once was given ransom of ten thousand credits, or sixteen thousand Wupiupis!
Anakin adjusts his own value to match, and there it remains until he's about to be knighted.
The number doesn't come up again until after Geonosis. Anakin lays on his cot, head and arm both throbbing painfully as he waits for the pain killers to kick in.
A slave with a missing arm would get two thousand cut from their value. But maybe, if he has a prosthetic…
No. The number will stay the same, even if he can go back to work as usual.
(He can't. He can't use this arm! He'll never fight again! He'll-)
His value is reduced to five thousand credits. It may go up half of that if he manages to get knighted, but the prosthetic will always keep him shy of his full worth. It will always hold him back.
"Ani?" A soft voice calls. One he didn't think he would hear.
"Padmé?!" Anakin rasps, struggling to sit up on his own and failing. Within moments, Padmé is holding him up. "Wha-"
"Lay down, Ani." Her gentle push is more than enough to send him back to the sheets. "We need to talk." She starts slowly, the usual strength leaving her voice. He can feel her frustration in response.
"Anakin, what are we?"
He stares, dumbfounded. "Uh…I…" Of she doesn't know, then how can he? They've been dancing around each other for so long that he can't quite figure out what they're letting count as friendship and what's not.
But he does know that she loves him. She said so herself, just before they kissed what he thought would be their last time.
"Do you take it back?" Anakin asks hesitantly. "Since we're not dead and all. Would…" He doesn't really want an answer because he knows what she'll say. It scared him but there's no hiding. "Would loving each other still ruin us?"
Padmé doesn't quite look at him. She's facing him, but her eyes travel to the space to his right.
"Anakin, I don't want to do that again." She sucks in a breath, then their eyes meet. "I never want to feel like I'll regret not loving you. I was so scared that you'd be gone without me even telling you."
He freezes in place. She was scared for him? Why? He's the Jedi. He's supposed to be the one capable of taking care of himself.
Though, his missing limb tells otherwise.
"Let's marry." Padmé says suddenly, her gaze sweeping the empty room. "We'll return to Naboo and make it official."
His jaw drops. "Wha-" A laugh cuts him off. Nerves run all through his body, his mind not quite connecting. "You…wait. Wait!" He sits up again, almost knocking their heads together in the process. "You want to-to marry me?!"
Padmé shushes him, but it doesn't stop his shock from turning to burning hope.
"Yes, I do. We'll keep it secret; just between us, the Nubian holy man, and two witnesses." Her face melts into something softer. "I know it's stupid, but I don't want to regret losing more time with you. I love you, Ani. Be my husband."
He doesn't answer. For the first time since his mother's death, he feels good. Happy.
Padmé waits, then worries her lip after too long. "So? Will you marry me?"
He leans close with his answer, his arm reaching up to-
Right. He lost that arm. Pushing away the ache it leaves, he tries again by scooting closer, successfully capturing her lips this time.
It's short, thanks to Padmé's laughter, but a second kiss makes up for it.
"Is that a yes?" She says it like she already knows the answer.
"Please." He breathes. "I want to grow old with you."
It physically hurts when she draws away. "Then I'll prepare. Get better, Ani."
"I promise."
It's not until well after she's left that Anakin realizes he's going to be a Senator -and former queen-'s husband.
He's worth about thirty thousand credits now!
"Anakin?" Obi-Wan's voice makes Anakin nearly jump out of his skin. He sighs, holding his heart.
"Since when have you been sneaking around?!" Anakin hisses in a whisper. It's much too late to be yelling.
Obi-Wan crosses his arms, defensive. "Ever since you started shrugging off lightsaber training with Ahsoka for…research?" The accusatory tone shifts into genuine confusion.
Anakin tries to shut the datapad off, his heart racing all over again, but it's quickly taken from him. "Obi-Wan! Give it-"
"Why are you researching kidnapped Jedi? You haven't been given a mission related to this."
He doesn't want to say it, so Anakin stays silent. It only makes Obi-Wan question further.
"Master Yaddle's kidnapping? Why did you search this so many times?"
Silence.
There's a sigh that usually means this is far too much trouble than it's worth. Anakin has heard it many times . "Anakin, why are you trying to find out her ransom? Master Yaddle is long gone."
"I know! I just…" He wouldn't get it. Obi-Wan didn't grow up the same way. All he's known is the Jedi and this temple. He's never been a slave.
But maybe, if Anakin explains…
Turning to face his former master, Anakin says, "I'm called the Hero with No Fear. I'm a poster boy for the war, basically."
Obi-Wan nods.
"And since we haven't really had a poster boy before…" Just say it. Obi-Wan will never let him go if he doesn't. "…I need to know how much I'm worth."
"Your worth?" Obi-Wan repeats.
"Yes. In credits. I would sell for thirty thousand before but with this new role…"
Obi-Wan's eyes go wide. "Anakin, there is no need to keep track of that! You're free from slavery!"
"I know that! I just…" Anakin sighs, a robotic hand coming up to rub at his tired eyes. "I need to know."
There's a long, awkward pause. "I don't know if this is healthy for you, Anakin."
"It is! I promise, I'm not obsessing over it! It just helps me stay grounded. That's all."
The second pause is even more tense, but it's broken when Obi-Wan finally nods. "Alright. Just be sure to get back on Ahsoka's training after this."
The relief is almost overwhelming. "Thank you. He hands the datapad over again and watches as Obi-Wan accesses an archive restricted from all but Jedi masters.
By the time Anakin returns to his shared quarters with Ahsoka, they've settled on forty-five thousand. And should the Separatists put any target directly on him, it would shoot to fifty thousand.
Darth Vader stands before the galaxy, stars flashing past his artificial vision.
He is no longer Anakin Skywalker. He no longer claims that life, nor the connections it holds. Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, the Jedi. They mean nothing to him. She means-
A sharp breath and the thought is gone.
The only one who matters now is his master. He will serve the Galactic Empire's ruler as if he were a god. He will be Darth Vader, Emporer Palatine's right hand and Sidious' apprentice.
His value is now one hundred thousand credits. A price only his master could pay.
And because of that, Darth Vader is entirely worthless.