Finished just in time again! Enjoy!

These chapter titles really kicked my butt. There's only about 300 words in the Huttese conlang, so I have a very limited selection for chapter titles. I tried to make them thematically relevant, but if they don't make sense, just know that I tried. The Complete Wermo's Guide to Huttese has been very helpful. Guess I'm a complete wermo!

ln(^_^)

Chapter 7: Lakeela Smeeleeya (Sad Smile)

"So you're not actually Anakin's father? I'm a bit confused, because Queen Amidala and her people seem to think you are, and Anakin acts like you are, but if Qui-Gon Jinn thought that Anakin is the Chosen One of prophecy, he couldn't have believed that."

"Why not?"

"The Chosen One is said to have no father. 'A Chosen One shall come, born of no father, and through him will ultimate balance in the Force be restored.'"

"The prophecy actually uses the words 'the Chosen One'?"

"…It's a translation of the original."

"…"

"Okay, fine, laugh if you want. We won't be laughing if your kid actually does turn out to be the subject of this prophecy."

"I'm sorry, Master Windu, I didn't mean to laugh at a serious issue. The name is just a touch…ironic."

"Fair enough."

"But if you don't mind my asking, why is it a bad thing if Anakin is the Chosen One?"

"Besides the fact that that boy could find trouble in an Ithorian monastery? Don't even think about poking me with that stick, Master Yoda."

"More to the prophecy there is, than the verse about the Chosen One. Dark times there are ahead, that lead us through the Chosen One must. If young Anakin the Chosen One is, closer than we feared is this darkness."

"I see."

"Are you sure Anakin's not your get?"

"Pretty sure."

"I mean, he does kind of look like you, with the blue eyes and fair complexion. Any chance…?"

"I'm afraid not, Master Windu. Anakin is the child of my heart, not of my body."

"Too bad."

"Didn't Master Jinn explain any of this to the Council? I told him that I wasn't Anakin's biological father, that as far as his mother and I knew, he had no father."

"Qui-Gon Jinn had a tendency not to elaborate in his reports to the Council. All he said was that he had encountered a vergence in the Force located around a boy, and that he believed this boy was conceived by the midi-chlorians. He made no mention of you or Anakin's mother. He didn't even tell us that Anakin was freed from slavery. Speaking of which, if Anakin was enslaved, how did Jinn come to have him? He didn't steal him, did he?"

"Fear this, do you, Mace?"

"I just want to know if Jinn has started some sort of intergalactic incident that would make the Hutts come after the Jedi Order. Knowing Jinn, this is not an unrealistic concern."

"Don't worry, Master Windu, the Hutts were not involved in Master Jinn acquiring Anakin. He won Anakin in the wager on the Boonta Eve Classic with our owner."

"…I'm not sure if that's better or worse."

"Surely it's better than the Hutts having a grudge against the Jedi?"

"The Hutts already hate the Jedi, there's nothing to be done about that. But if it ever got out that a Jedi Master is hopping around the Outer Rim engaging in sentient trafficking by staking property that doesn't belong to him in illegal high stakes gambling on podraces, which have been outlawed in the Republic because they're so dangerous, we'll never shake the bad press."

"Hm. I see your point. It would probably be especially bad if they found out that he maneuvered putting a nine-year-old slave boy into the race so he could bet on him."

"He WHAT?! You mean—Anakin—was in the podrace—Jinn bet on—what?"

"Well, Anakin built the pod; of course he was going to be the one to race it."

"…"

"Pale, you look, Mace. Perhaps lie down, you should. Very serious, aneurysms can be."

"Kriff. Okay. Leaving all that aside…Please tell me that you and Anakin are properly documented. People already think the Jedi are child stealers. The last thing we need is for flimsiwork to surface showing that we own an enslaved minor."

"We are now, on Naboo at least. The queen has been very helpful in getting Ani and me registered as refugees and eligible for naturalization and Republic citizenship in time."

"Kenobi, you're already a citizen of the Republic and a resident of Coruscant."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi was, once. The Order must have had me declared dead by now though. I'm sure it's much easier to establish a new identity through refugee status on a Mid-Rim planet than attempt to go through Coruscant's bureaucracy to prove I'm not actually dead."

"Well, true, but you're really not interested in reclaiming your identity?"

"Whatever for? I was twelve years old when I 'died,' and an Initiate of the Jedi Order. I don't have any assets to reclaim, nor any family. I suppose I could get Coruscant residency back, but I would rather be a resident of whatever system Anakin is a resident of."

"If change your mind you do, let us know, you will. Help you, we shall."

"Thank you, Master Yoda."

808

The minute Ani pulls his pod to a stop, he yanks his helmet off his head and tosses it away. Now that he is no longer concentrating on the race, he can feel the adulation and excitement of the crowd, so many, many people, all watching him. The pressure of their attention is overwhelming—he can feel it in his head and chest, trying to drown out his thoughts and making his head pound and his heart race.

In spite of the massive wave of energy pummeling Anakin, converging on him, he can feel one presence in particular moving closer, running. He stands and, mostly by instinct, as his vision is blurred with tears and brightness, he flings himself into Ben's arms.

Ben is right there to catch him, like he always is, heedless of yesterday's injuries. He gathers Anakin to his chest and Ani wraps both arms and legs around him. He feels Ben's large hand cover the back of his head, Ben's lips pressed to his temple, then Ben's mind brushing his. He shields Ani just enough that he is no longer overwhelmed by the crowd's emotions bombarding him, and guides Ani into the familiar practice of shielding himself.

When he senses that Ani has things under better control, Ben pulls away a bit and looks into his eyes, smiling bigger than Ani has ever seen him.

"I did it, Ben. I won!"

Suddenly Ani is being hoisted out of Ben's arms and onto Mister Qui-Gon's shoulder, well above the crowd because Mister Qui-Gon is so tall. Ani is no longer drowning in the sea of the crowd's emotions. He is buoyed up by them, so high that his head spins with delight. He has never felt anything like this before—he feels like he has the power to do anything in this moment.

At length, Mister Qui-Gon sets him down again and they fight their way through the throng to the hangar, where Mister Qui-Gon excuses himself to go find Watto. Padmé pulls Anakin into a hug. "We owe you everything, Ani," she says, voice tight with emotion. Anakin's heart gives a heavy thump as he hugs her back.

Then Ben is kneeling in front of him. He cups Anakin's face in warm, calloused hands. "You've given hope to those who have none," he says, tilting Ani's forehead against his. "I am so proud of you, Ani. So very proud." Ben kisses his forehead and pulls him into another embrace. Anakin throws his arms around Ben's neck, basking in the joy and affection he feels so clearly from the man that raised him. Anakin thinks this must be the best moment of his life.

The day is not over, however. Anakin is soon called away with Ben, Padmé and R2 to Watto's shop to gather up the parts Mister Qui-Gon needs. The tall man meets them with a brace of eopies and gravsleds to take the parts to the outskirts. Ani wishes that he could go with him and Padmé to help install the hyperdrive, but he can't leave the city limits or his transmitter will go off.

He hugs Padmé goodbye. It's odd, but even though he knows this is probably the last time he will ever see her, his Luck sense seems not to think so. He watches Padmé hug Ben goodbye, and for some reason, he wants to do the same.

Mister Qui-Gon is coming back into town after he delivers the parts so that he can wrap up some business, according to him. Ani thinks that he must mean selling the pod. Ben has offered to find a buyer for it so Mister Qui-Gon doesn't have to spend time searching.

Ani really wants to go with Ben, but he's so tired all of a sudden. His knees shake when he tries to stand, and he feels a little sick. Ben says something about an adrenaline crash, and that he's going to take Ani home so that he can take a nap like a baby. Ani isn't happy about it, but Ben will not be deterred, and since Ben ends up having to carry Ani more than halfway home, it was probably a good call.

Ani cuddles close to Ben, nuzzling into his neck like an akk pup. He feels warm and safe nestled in Ben's arms, surrounded by the light of Ben's presence like a campfire in the desert night. He is more than half asleep when Ben lays him down on their shared sleep pallet, but he still tries to cling to his father. Distantly, he hears Ben chuckle and feels him smooth back his hair to kiss his forehead.

Then Ani is alone in the desert night. The campfire is gone, but its warmth lingers in Ani's blood. Without the fire's light, the stars are brighter than he's ever seen them. They pulse and wink, calling to Ani, and Ani reaches for them, finding himself lifting off the sands and flying into the void, unmoored, unfettered. He drifts on the Wind between the stars, barely able to control his trajectory, even though he is trying.

Hardly even knowing how he got there, he finds himself suddenly caught between two stars, one black, one white. The black one pulls at him, yawns open like a mouth instead of a sphere, and Ani realizes it's not a star, but a black hole. It wants him, wants to devour him, crush him. He turns to the other star, the brightest he's ever seen, its cold, blazing white light searing his eyes, and strains with all his might to reach it, the black hole sucking at him all the while. Inch by inch he fights his way to the white star. The closer he gets, the more intense the heat from the star becomes—it burns, but somehow the fire in his blood is keeping the pain at bay.

He touches the white star. The pull from the black hole is unabated. He knows what he has to do to escape the darkness, but he knows that it will also mean pain, and change. He pushes his hand into the star. His arm follows, his shoulder, his torso—his whole body enters the star's searing heat. The flesh and bone melt away until he is only blood and spirit. The light of the star has somehow become his light, its heat his heat—he has become one with the star.

The light builds and builds in him, reaching every dark corner in the galaxy. The black hole folds in on itself with a shriek and disappears. Ani is relieved, but his star does not stop growing. It just keeps getting bigger and bigger, a supernova threatening to engulf the galaxy. Ani isn't sure how to stop it. The effort of his mind and spirit are not enough.

Ani finds his heart again, the only physical part of him left, and sets it beating, sending his blood flowing through the fire. The star is a body again, a body composed of light, but with defined edges that Anakin can pull back, reel them in close. Everything is peaceful once again. The galaxy is safe. Ani is safe. He can feel the warmth of the bonfire and the steady pulse of his heart and blood, lulling him back to sleep…

Ani wakes to the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He can tell even before he opens his eyes that it's Ben, by the size and weight of his hand and by his warm, firelight presence. "Ani, wake up. Master Jinn has returned. He has something he wants to say to you."

Ani comes fully alert then. He is glad that Mister Qui-Gon came back and asked Ben to wake him up so he could say goodbye. Ani would have been very disappointed to miss him before he left.

"Hi, Mister Qui-Gon!" Ani smiles when he sees the tall man standing in their little kitchen. "Did you sell the pod?"

"I did indeed, young one," he says, handing Ani a stack of wupiupi chips with a smile.

"Whoa!" Anakin has never held so much money in his life. "Ben, look at all the money we have!" he says, pushing it into Ben's hands. Ben laughs.

"And you have been freed."

Ani whirls back around to face Mister Qui-Gon. Did he just say— "What?"

Mister Qui-Gon smiles at him. "You are no longer enslaved, Anakin."

Anakin gapes at the man for a moment before slowly turning back to Ben. "Did you hear that?" he asks, almost timid with surprise.

Ben is smiling too. "Yes, Ani. You're free. And Master Jinn has told me that he would like to take you with him to train to become a Jedi."

Ani looks back at Mister Qui-Gon. "Really?"

"Yes. Our meeting was not a coincidence. Nothing happens by accident."

"You mean that I get to go with you in your starship?"

Mister Qui-Gon crouches down in front of Ani and places a hand on his shoulder. "Anakin, training to become a Jedi is not an easy challenge. And even if you succeed, it's a hard life."

Anakin nods seriously. He has watched Mister Qui-Gon the last two days. He knows now that the Jedi are not all-powerful. Mister Qui-Gon is capable and strong, but without the help of Anakin, a powerless slave boy, he would have failed in his mission. He also sees how alone the man is, how he has set out on a mission to save a whole system by himself. He remembers what Ben told him about there being only a few Jedi in a galaxy of trillions of people, and wonders if all Jedi must bear such heavy burdens alone, for the sake of doing as much good as they can.

"I understand. And I want to do it. I want to train so I can help people. I've dreamed of this." He turns from the Jedi to Ben. "Can I go, Ben?"

Ben looks at him seriously, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Anakin, this path has been placed before you. The choice is yours alone."

Anakin nods. "I want to do it."

Ben smooths his hair back and places a kiss on the top of his head. "Then let's go pack your things."

Anakin grins, but the smile slides from his face when he processes what Ben said. 'Your things,' he said, not 'our things.' "What about you?" Ani asks. "You're coming with us, aren't you, Ben?"

Ben bows his head, not meeting Ani's eyes as he clearly struggles for words. Ani's heart sinks before Mister Qui-Gon even speaks. "I tried to free Ben too, Ani," the man says, "but Watto wouldn't have it."

Anakin feels a pit open up in his stomach. Ben isn't free, like Ani. Ben is still a slave. Ben has to stay here while Ani flies away, maybe forever. "No," Ani whispers. "Ben, I don't want to leave you." His voice is hoarse from the sudden lump in his throat.

Ben kneels down in front of him, settles his hands on Ani's shoulders. "Our paths have run together for a time, and now it seems they must diverge. Life is full of partings, Ani," Ben reminds him. "You can't stop it, any more than you can stop the suns from setting. You must trust the Wind to take us to where it is best for us both to be. It is time for you to let me go."

This is what Ben has told him every time one of his friends or neighbors was sold away. The first time he heard it was when his mother was sold. But he somehow never thought he would hear Ben say it about himself. The lump in Ani's throat is so heavy he cannot speak. He just nods and throws his arms around Ben's neck, feels Ben's arms come around to hug him. "I love you," Ben whispers in his ear. "My every hope for your happiness goes with you, Ani."

At length, Ani wipes his face on Ben's shirt and finally lets go. "Now hurry," Ben says, his voice tight with repressed emotion. "Master Jinn does not have time to linger."

Ani nods again and runs to the room he shares with Ben. He gathers up his two changes of clothes, his toothbrush, his multitool, a little of the japor wood Ben had been teaching him to whittle. Then he gets stuck. He wants to bring a memento, but he doesn't have anything. The room isn't exactly bare, but he and Ben have so little that might work as a reminder of his life here.

Then Ben comes in, bringing with him a backpack to put Ani's things in. When his few belongings are tucked away, Ben places a package with a few mechanical parts in the bag as well. "What's that for?" Ani asks.

Ben only smiles. "You'll figure it out." Then he reaches behind his neck and removes his necklace.

The necklace is the only ornamentation Ben has, and he never takes it off, except for once to show Ani its secret. The necklace looks like nothing more than a complicated knot tied in a piece of twine, but the knot contains—and hides—a crystal. Ani's seen it. Ben told Ani that the crystal is sacred to him and the people he belonged to before he was a slave. It is the only piece of his childhood home he still carries.

Ben moves to put the necklace around Ani's neck, but Ani stops him. "No, Ben! This is yours. It's special to you. I can't take it!"

Ben holds the knot containing the crystal in his hand. "I want you to have it now, Ani. Crystals like this one are awake, and can sing to people who are Lucky. They can choose who they sing to, who is most compatible with them. The people who raised me believed crystals like this one are sacred because when the crystal chooses a being and bonds with them, it becomes like a part of that person's soul outside their body." Ben settles the necklace around Anakin's neck, places his palm over the crystal resting against his heart. "This crystal sang to me. It chose me a long time ago, and I have bonded with it over many years. It is a part of me, and I want you to carry it with you. When you hear it sing to you, you will know my thoughts are with you, and you are never really alone."

Anakin throws his arms around Ben again, burying his face in Ben's shoulder in an effort to keep from crying. He still doesn't know how he is supposed to let Ben go, but he feels a little better with the warmth from the crystal necklace lying against his skin.

Before he knows it, he is following the Jedi out the door, leaving Ben in front of their tiny home. He feels Ben's eyes watching him as he walks away, and Ani can't help it. He breaks and runs back into his arms. Ben kneels and accepts him with a hug and a kiss to the cheek, but Ani can feel in the way he holds him that he is going to let him go again.

"I can't do it, Ben, I just can't do it. I can't leave you here like this." Ani pulls out of the hug to see Ben's face.

Ben strokes his cheek, blue eyes soft. "You can, Ani. You have won your freedom. Now give yourself leave to go."

"Will I ever see you again?"

Ben smiles softly. "What does the Wind tell you?"

Ani sniffles. "I hope so." He pauses to search his feelings, and isn't quite sure what he finds, but it feels positive. "Yes. I guess."

"Then we will see each other again." Ben tilts his forehead against Ani's in the gesture that has become customary for them over the years. Ani doesn't know where Ben learned this, as he has never seen anyone else do the same, but he's glad of it. It is comforting to feel his warmth, breathe him in.

"I will come back and free you, Ben. I promise."

Ben kisses his forehead and then looks him in the eyes. "Now, my son, be brave, and don't look back." He strokes Ani's cheek with calloused fingers one last time. "Don't look back."

Ani turns and goes. He listens to Ben and doesn't look back, though he can feel Ben's eyes on him all the way down the street. He does not turn around again, though each step feels like he is leaving an essential part of himself further and further behind.

He clutches the necklace over his chest, feeling like his emotions are all tangled around his heart, like the knot around the crystal.

Ben's…situation started with Jabba. Not surprising, Jabba was usually the one to start things—trends, feuds, arms races. It made it easy for Gardulla to copy him with just one or two tweaks so that she could pretend she came up with the idea herself. This was no different.

Jabba had gotten himself a new dancer, a Twi'lek girl that he liked so much he had the bright idea to keep her collared and chained to his chaise. Whenever he got bored he would rattle her leash and she would give him and the pool of slime he called his associates a show.

Ben had not seen this disgusting display, but Gardulla had, and of course she wanted one of her own. But not a Twi'lek dancer, oh no. She couldn't stoop to having the same thing as Jabba. She had to have something better than Jabba.

Which somehow ended up with Ben chained to Gardulla's chaise wearing a loincloth, a collar, a few pieces of tacky jewelry, and nothing else.

Where the logic was in this decision, Ben couldn't be sure, and he'd had plenty of time to ponder it while lounging on the cushions of Gardulla's chaise. He wasn't a dancer or musician that was there to be called upon to entertain—unless Gardulla decided she wanted him to fight a member of her court, which, while bound to be cathartic for Ben, would be counterproductive by most other measures. Gardulla had bragged many times about his success in the arena, so Ben supposed that she got some cachet for having a powerful fighter at her beck and call. Though Ben wouldn't necessarily consider himself that powerful. There were other gladiators in Gardulla's stable that had longer and more storied careers than Ben. However, Ben supposed that his youth and rare red hair may have made him a more attractive prospect than most of the other scarred, grizzled arena veterans.

He wasn't called upon for this purpose every day, which would have been truly unbearable. Not even most days, really. He had combat training and beast handling and still managed to eke out a little time to spend with Shmi and Anakin. He only had to do it when Gardulla had guests that she particularly wanted to impress.

So it wasn't so bad. Or at least, it could be worse. Sure, he had to spend long, tedious stretches of time in close proximity to Gardulla the Hutt and surrender the last shred of his dignity and all the other fighters were doing their very best to make his life hell whenever he showed his face near any of them because they still somehow envied him for receiving 'preferential' treatment from Gardulla, but this way at least Ben got to know some of what was going on in the outside world. What he heard at Gardulla's side was mostly Hutt business, which was without exception slimy, but it was something.

Today was a bit more interesting than most, as Gardulla was negotiating with a Mandalorian mercenary on a contract she wanted to hire him for, but not tell him the full details of before he accepted—a tried and true method for beating down the price of a difficult job. Ben felt it was obvious that the armored man was angling for something more than just the wupiupi Gardulla was offering, but Gardulla either wasn't perceptive enough to pick up on that or thought that this 'lesser life form' should do as she wished simply because she wished it. If it were Ben negotiating with the man, he might have deescalated the situation and moved them to a more casual environment for a conversation where he might discern more about his ulterior motives, but Ben wasn't the negotiator here and he certainly wasn't going to speak up to give any kind of unsolicited help to the Hutt that owned him.

Instead, he lounged against the pillows and wampa furs with practiced indolence, all the while prepared to move the moment Gardulla pulled on his leash. When this whole farce began, Ben had tried to anticipate her desires and move as soon as she wanted him to, but he quickly discovered that it pleased her to drag him around on the chain, controlling him with the collar. He instead learned to fake inattention while being ready to move just quick enough that she couldn't do too much damage to his throat.

She had already shown him off plenty at the beginning of this little interview in order to impress the Mandalorian—though whether the Mando was actually impressed by this behavior was a dubious prospect at best, as Mandalorians in general had no love for the slave trade—so Ben was as relaxed as he ever could be around his owner for now. He knew that soon enough she would get frustrated with the negotiations and would yank Ben around to take out some of her irritation on him.

Perhaps he was too relaxed, or too focused on the conversation or on the inevitable abuse Gardulla would soon visit upon him. Maybe it was his exhaustion from the grueling training regime that was often followed by trying to tire Ani out enough that the toddler would go to bed. Whatever the reason, he didn't realize someone was there who shouldn't be until it was much too late.

Anakin streaked into Gardulla's throne room, clad in nothing but a shirt that was just barely long enough to preserve what modesty a two-year-old had, giggling like mad and heading straight for Ben as fast as his little legs could carry him.

There were no words to describe the terror that stopped Ben's heart dead in that moment. And yet, even though his mind was frozen in fear, his body instinctively leaped into action without his brain's input. Ben was off the chaise in less than a second, moving to intercept Anakin even as Gardulla roared in anger. Ben went to his knees and gathered the boy into his arms not a moment too soon; he felt the collar dig into his throat, cutting off his air as Gardulla dragged at his leash. This time though, he did not move to go to her. He was holding Ani, and he would not bring him to her.

Ben raised his mental shields around Anakin then, just in time before he felt Gardulla's whip come down on his bare back. He knew Ani had felt his terror, but he refused to let the child feel any of his pain. Ani's laughter had turned to whimpering as his joy at being so clever at finding Ben turned to fear.

The whip was laid on again and again, painting white-hot lines of pain on Ben's body. Wild with rage, Gardulla wasn't aiming, so she caught Ben's head and gave him glancing blows a few times, but enough of them landed that Ben started to feel blood trickle down his back. She was at the same time dragging back on his chain, making it very difficult for Ben to draw breath. Still, he resisted, crouching over Anakin and shielding the little boy with his body and mind. He prayed to the Force that he wouldn't pass out, letting it flow through him in an effort to stay conscious. He needed to be able to protect Anakin.

After what could not have been much more than a minute but felt more like hours to Ben, Gardulla paused in beating him. Her ire had not abated, but she had tired herself in her furious frenzy. Ben could feel Anakin's frightened panting against his chest, little hands clenched on his shoulders, and he wrapped the boy tighter in his arms. In the lull, the Mandalorian spoke.

"If you keep beating those kids in front of me, you can consider our association at an end."

Ben heard Gardulla suck in a breath, and for a moment, he thought that she would continue beating him just to spite the Mando for his temerity in issuing such an ultimatum, to show him that she owned these slaves and would not be told what to do with them. Instead, she laughed.

"I forget that you Mandalorians have a soft spot for children," she said, bass Huttese echoing in the tense silence. "Very well. I'm in a generous mood. I will defer their punishment. A sign of good faith in our dealings, yes?" The Mando stood silent. "Ojuj!" She signaled to her seneschal. "They will have no food for three days. Get the little brat out of my sight."

Ben staggered to his feet as quickly as he dared, mindful of Ani still in his arms and his dizziness after his near asphyxiation. He looked past the spots swimming in his vision and his unfocused gaze landed on Shmi in the crowd of onlookers. Her white face was rigid as she swept forward and took her son from him, barely even daring to glance at Ben before leaving the room with all speed. Ben almost sagged with relief as soon as they were away.

Before he could, Gardulla yanked him back on his leash. This time he went to her as she dragged him in until he was nearly pressed up against her. She seized him by the hair and practically shook him at the Mandalorian.

"This one isn't so much a child as the other, eh, Mando? Old enough to beget that brat, anyway. He can do his duty until our business is concluded."

So Ben waited for the meeting to end, the now tight leash forcing him to lean against Gardulla's bloated side to get any air as his back throbbed and his head spun. By the time Gardulla dismissed him, he could barely stand. He could tell that the bleeding had slowed considerably from the dried blood that cracked on his skin each time he shifted, but the cushion he had been sitting on was spotted red from where it had been dripping down his back.

Shmi found him in the infirmary just as the medic finished dressing his back. She had Anakin in her arms, and Ben had the distinct impression that she had not let her child out of them since taking him from Ben hours ago. As soon as Ani saw Ben, he held his arms out to him in a silent demand for Ben to hold him. Ben obliged, ignoring his own pain and exhaustion to hold the child, stroking the dear little one's hair and back, letting him cling to him and bury his face against his shoulder.

"How is he?" he asked Shmi.

"He's fine," Shmi replied, but Ben could see in her eyes it wasn't quite true. Ani's uncharacteristic silence and the tears that had begun wetting Ben's shoulder were enough to tell him that though Anakin was unharmed physically, emotionally he was not okay. And that was without even considering the fear and confusion and aching sadness that Ben could sense from Ani through their bond.

Anakin refused to leave Ben's arms the rest of the evening, which was again unusual for him—he typically had a burst of energy in the evenings, running about to key himself up in an attempt to avoid sleep. He remained in Ben's lap through latemeal, where Shmi fed Anakin from her plate and tried unsuccessfully to give the rest of her food to Ben. When they finally made it back to their room in the slaves' quarters, Ben went to bed early with Ani. Lying down together on the sleep pallet made it easy for Ben to commune with Ani through their bond in the Force. He reassured the boy that he was fine, carefully walling off the lingering pain from the beating so Ani wouldn't pick up on it, and then helped Ani work through his more negative emotions.

Anakin soon drifted off, exhausted from the ordeal of that day, curled against Ben's chest in front and bracketed behind by his mother. Ben met Shmi's eyes over Anakin's head. "Are you all right?" she murmured, keeping her voice low.

"Yes, I'm fine," he responded. "It's nothing I haven't had before and much worse."

Shmi reached for him, hand hesitating over a weal on his upper arm that the medic hadn't deemed serious enough to bother treating. "You didn't eat. Gardulla said you're to have nothing for three days. You need to—"

Ben shook his head. "I can sustain myself with the Wind when needed. It's you I'm worried about, having to share your food with Ani for three days."

"Ani is two. He eats hardly anything. I will be fine. I would have enough for you too."

"It's not necessary," Ben said, covering her hand on his shoulder with his. "I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," she said, voice strained. "I wasn't paying close enough attention, and he got away from me. By the time I realized where he was headed—"

Ben squeezed her hand in his. "Now now, there's no need for that. I'm fine. And it's just as much my fault. Ani's bond with me is so strong and Ani is so…powerful. I wasn't shielding enough, and he followed our bond right to me. I didn't anticipate that he would use it to find me like that, not this soon, so young. I'm sorry too."

Shmi turned her hand in his and laced their fingers together, telling him wordlessly that there was nothing to forgive. Ben pressed the back of her hand against his heart, hoping she could feel his gratitude for her. She was so good to him and gifted him with such grace that he didn't deserve, given how inadequate a protector and teacher he was for her son. A simple apology could not convey the guilt Ben felt at not being enough for them. Ani was so special and strong in the Force—he needed someone to guide him, but all he had was a failed Jedi Initiate too unremarkable to catch the notice of a master, too angry and close to falling to be safely trained. For the millionth time, Ben wondered what the Force was even thinking putting Ani in his care when it was terribly clear that this child deserved so much better.

"This isn't the end of it, is it?" Shmi whispered.

Ben sighed. "No. Gardulla had to make a concession in front of a Mandalorian, of all people. She will find some other way to punish us. I will try to redirect her anger to me, so that she might spare Anakin. We must be careful to keep him away from her." Gardulla disliked children and wouldn't hesitate to visit cruel abuses on them, but as long as they were out of her sight and hearing, she typically didn't spare them a thought.

Shmi frowned. "You don't need to think about that right now. Focus on healing, rest."

Ben grinned. "I'm always thinking about how to protect Anakin. It's a full-time job."

That night was not a restful one for Ben, nor were many of the nights after, as he waited for their owner's cruelty to come down on them again. She made them wait for more than a month before her retribution was finally revealed, and it turned out to be a far more bitter punishment than Ben had feared.

One otherwise unremarkable day, a messenger came from the major domo to the head trainer. Ben could not hear what was whispered in his ear, but he knew by the way the head trainer looked at him who it was about, and that it was not good.

The head trainer called him over and Ben went, palms sweating and heart hammering and not quite understanding why his fight or flight response had suddenly kicked in. Not until the trainer told him, not unkindly, the messenger's news.

Ben realized then that he had made a mistake. He had thought that Gardulla would try to punish him or Ani for the fiasco in the reception room. He had not thought that she would find a way to punish all of them in one fell swoop in the worst way.

The head trainer let him go for the day, a thing nearly unheard of, but these were exceptional circumstances, and he likely knew that Ben would go even if he forbade it. Ben ran for Shmi before it was too late.

He found her in their room, trying to comfort a confused and upset Anakin. Ben's heart seized at the sight of a small bag packed with Shmi's few belongings.

"It's true?" he asked, feeling like something in his chest was dying. Shmi nodded. "Who? Where?"

Shmi swallowed, then said in a strained voice, "I don't know. No one does."

Ben glanced at the boy on the bed. "Anakin?"

Shmi shook her head, squeezing her red-rimmed eyes shut. "He has to stay," she said, voice breaking. "I can't bring him."

The next moment Ben had her in his arms. She hid her face against his chest, and Ben could sense her desperately trying to regain some composure. Ben rubbed her back, giving her whatever comfort he could while he was still able to be there for her. They stood there, leaning on each other as the minutes counted down until Shmi would have to go. They said nothing, for nothing needed to be said. They had made all their promises to each other long before this.

Anakin whined to be held, and they broke apart, wiping their eyes. Ben grabbed Shmi's bag and Shmi picked up her son, cuddling him close to her for the last time. They walked together to the palace gate, where they were met by the major domo, a regretful look on his face. Ben would have to thank the man and the head trainer later for giving him the heads up. A speeder was already waiting, a Rodian driver inside. Ben handed Shmi's bag off so it could be checked.

Shmi then gave Ani to Ben, but lingered a moment longer. "You'll be a good boy for Ben, won't you, Ani?" she said, cupping her son's face. Ani only looked at her, tears dripping down his cheeks, confusion and sadness swirling in the Force around him. He didn't fully understand what was happening, not yet, but he could sense his mother's and Ben's emotions, and as they were upset, so was he. He was so very young that it might take him a few more years to understand the reason why his mother would not return, that she had been sold because all she was to her owner was property that no longer pleased.

"I love you," Shmi whispered, and kissed Anakin on the forehead. Then she drew Ben's head down and did the same to him. Ben pressed his forehead against hers and they took a long, deep breath together before finally breaking apart.

"Take care of each other," she bid them, then climbed into the waiting speeder, sitting stiffly by the driver. The Rodian put the speeder in gear, and as quickly as that, Shmi was borne away from their little family. Ben felt like his heart was being pulled out of his chest as he watched the speeder disappear into the distance, as though Shmi had taken a part of it with her.

Ben felt down to the very smallest pieces of his breaking heart that it would be a lifetime before he saw his dear friend again.