"Mom!" Padmé jolted awake to a scream in the room next to her. Ignoring her state of dress she rushed out of her bed, and looked into the neighboring room. Inside she saw Anakin thrashing in the bed crying out, "No! Mom, stay with me." The urge to comfort him warred with the memory of their conversation last night. That a relationship would be impossible. Her heart won though, and she stepped closer, just as Anakin calmed and his eyes fluttered open.
Anakin's face turned towards her studying her features, "Padmé?"
She winced, her attempt at a discreet exit foiled. So much for convincing him of her lack of feelings. "I heard you scream," she offered.
"It was nothing," Anakin mumbled, trying to hide his distress.
Unconvinced, Padmé sat on the edge of his bed. "Another nightmare?" she asked gently, hoping he'd attribute her concern to simple kindness. The irony stung her love for him was the very reason she couldn't be with him. She cared too much about Anakin's future for him to throw it away for her.
"No-" Anakin started.
Padmé reached for his hand, her intuition guiding her. She remembered the last time she had caught his nightmare it had also been about his mother. "It was about your mother, wasn't it?"
His eyes met hers, fear shimmering within them. The thought of leaving his mother enslaved at such a young age, the unknown years of hardship, tore at Padmé's heart. Padmé always had the comfort that her family was safe whenever she had been gone for a long time, but Anakin didn't. "Yes, but… Obi-Wan says dreams pass," he added quickly, as if to reassure her. "Don't worry."
"Do you believe that?" Padmé asked.
"I don't know," Anakin admitted, his voice heavy with despair. "I've had this dream for months. It never stops. I can barely sleep."
"Can't you just check on her?" Padmé asked, "Even if it was another Jedi?"
"No, and anyway Obi-Wan doesn't think she's in any danger," Anakin said, then added with less conviction, "I should trust him."
"But, you don't think he's right," Padmé observed.
"Yes, but-" Anakin started not knowing why he knew the dream was true. Anakin stood abruptly and walked to the balcony, his gaze fixed on the starlit sky.
Padmé followed, her worry growing. "What's wrong?"
"I promised her that I will come back and free her," he confessed, his voice raw. "It's been a decade, and now… she might be dying, or worse... dead."
"Then go see her. No one needs to know you were gone," Padmé asked.
He turned, his expression conflicted. "This mission is too important. My first solo mission."
Padmé saw through his excuse. He was protecting her, keeping her away from the people targeting her. "What if I go with you? You'd still be protecting me and fulfilling your mission," Padmé recommended.
"No," Anakin snapped, "That would just be me leading you straight to the danger."
"Just think about it," she pleaded softly, leaving him to the quiet solitude of the night.
Anakin's newfound sleep was shattered once again by the familiar grip of a nightmare. This time, Padmé's comforting presence was absent, leaving him to face the echoes of his fear alone. He wandered to the balcony, the first rays of dawn painting the Varykino landscape in soft hues of gold and rose. Perhaps meditation could offer some solace, some way to reconcile his dreams with Obi-Wan's reassurances. Maybe accepting Padmé's offer wouldn't be so reckless after all.
He sensed her before he could see her, Padmé's presence a gentle warmth at his back. She seemed poised to retreat, but Anakin spoke, his voice husky with a need he couldn't quite name. "Don't go."
"I didn't want to disturb you," she replied softly.
"Your presence… it's soothing," he admitted, remembering how it had eased the terror of his previous awakening. He turned to face her, a longing in his eyes that spoke of forbidden desires. Oh, to not be a Jedi, to be free to love Padmé, to see his mother again. But his Jedi path offered the chance to help countless others. He yearned for both, yet as Padmé had reminded him, it was an impossible choice.
"Another nightmare?" she inquired, her voice laced with concern.
"No," he lied, "I was just… thinking about your offer." He hoped she would make the decision easy, deny having given the offer.
"Will you take it?" Excitement flickered in her eyes. "I'd love to see your mother again."
"But it's too dangerous," he protested, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his desire and fear. He would have already left, if not for the risk it posed to Padmé.
"I'll have a disguise," Padmé reassured, "No one will expect me to be on Tatooine. It might even be safer."
He wrestled with his conscience. He was a Jedi, bound by duty, yet… Padmé's belief in him, the chance to see his mother again. To share this secret journey with Padmé. The one other person that could comfort him like his mother. It was too tempting. "I'll go," he finally conceded, his voice firm despite the tremor in his heart. "But only if you promise to stay out of danger."
The familiar bland ochre expanse of Tatooine filled the viewport as they exited hyperspace, a stark contrast to the vibrant blues and greens of Naboo. It mirrored the disparity Anakin had felt as a child, the harshness of his home planet juxtaposed against Padmé's radiant beauty. He was pulled from his reverie by her voice. "They haven't signaled any coordinates yet," Padmé observed.
"They probably won't unless we ask," Anakin replied, a touch of bitterness in his tone. "Things are… informal here. You land, hope no one steals your ship, and go about your business."
"As lovely as I remember," Padmé quipped, her sarcasm barely masking her unease.
Anxiety gnawed at Anakin as they descended. Was his mother alright? At least he had Padmé by his side, her presence a soothing balm on his raw nerves. He would never admit it, but he was grateful she had defied logic and joined him. She understood him in a way only his mother seemed to. He spotted the outskirts of Mos Espa and landed near Watto's junkshop, a short walk from their destination. As they disembarked, a dockworker intercepted them. "You can't just drop in uninvited," the man grumbled.
Anakin met his gaze calmly, a subtle wave of his hand accompanying his words. "It's a good thing you invited us then."
The worker's expression shifted, a smile replacing his frown. "Yes, it's a good thing I invited you then!"
Padmé shook her head as they walked away. "Anakin, you're terrible."
"The port isn't exactly bustling," he shrugged, his hand instinctively reaching for hers. He held it tight, guiding her through the familiar streets, acutely aware of the dangers lurking in every shadow. Padmé, accustomed to the civility of Naboo, was vulnerable here.
"Do you think he was involved?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
"Watto?"
"Yes, he was your former master, right?" she clarified.
A surge of protectiveness, mixed with simmering anger, coursed through Anakin. He would tear Watto apart if he had harmed his mother. Yet, he knew the Toydarian, while greedy and harsh, wouldn't intentionally let Shmi die – a dead slave was a worthless slave. "I doubt it," he replied, his voice tight. "But if he did… I'll pluck out his wings myself."
Hesitation gripped Anakin at the entrance of the junkshop, memories of his childhood spent working amidst the dusty clutter flooding his mind. He glanced back at Padmé, remembering their first encounter within these very walls. Stepping inside, he found Watto hunched over a disassembled droid. "Not that one!" Watto barked at a scurrying pit droid before his gaze fell upon his visitors. "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for Shmi Skywalker," Anakin stated directly, his voice tight with anticipation.
Watto squinted, recognition dawning on his face. "Ani? Is that you?"
Anakin's response was to take the droid from Watto's grasp, his nimble fingers instinctively repairing the malfunctioning circuits. It was a skill honed from years of servitude, a talent that had always set him apart. He handed the now-functioning droid back to Watto, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. "You are Ani," Watto said.
"Hello, Watto," Anakin responded.
"Weehoo!" the Toydarian crowed when he noticed the lightsaber. "A Jedi! Waddya know? Hey, maybe you could help with some deadbeats who owe me a lot of money..."
"My mother," Anakin insisted, his patience waning.
"Oh yeah, Shmi. She's not mine no more. I sold her," Watto replied nonchalantly.
Panic clawed at Anakin's throat. While Watto had been a slave owner, at least he knew the Toydarian's cruelty had limits. Now, his mother could be in the hands of someone far worse. Padmé's hand found his, her touch a grounding force amidst the swirling fear. "Sold her?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper.
"Sorry Ani. Business is business," Watto shrugged. "Sold her to a moisture farmer… Lars, I think. Heard he freed and married her. Isn't that something?"
Relief washed over Anakin, tempered by a lingering concern. He knew of slavers who freed their slaves only to trap them in loveless marriages. Still, it meant his mother was likely alive. "Do you know where she is?"
"Somewhere near Mos Eisley. He comes here sometimes," Watto offered vaguely.
"I need a more precise location," Anakin pressed, frustration rising.
Watto shrugged, but Padmé intervened before Anakin could get more frustrated. "You must keep records."
"Yeah, sure, I can check those," Watto conceded, leading them to the back of the shop. Thankfully, the records contained coordinates for the Lars homestead. Anakin wasted no time, dragging Padmé out of the shop with a newfound sense of purpose. He hoped to never set foot in this place again. He vaguely heard Watto call out, "Stay a while, Ani," but he ignored the Toydarian, his focus solely on reaching his mother.
As they reached Padmé's star skiff, she couldn't help but feel a surge of relief for Shmi. Sabé's earlier attempt to locate and rescue her had been unsuccessful, leaving Padmé with a lingering worry. Now, knowing Shmi had found a new life, even if on this desolate planet, brought a sense of peace. Seeing the apprehension etched on Anakin's face as he prepared for takeoff, she offered, "Ani, isn't it wonderful that Shmi was freed?"
He glanced back from the pilot's seat, his expression clouded. "She might not be truly free, you know."
"But Watto said Cliegg freed and married her," Padmé countered, confused.
"Married is where the problem might be," Anakin responded, his voice tight.
Realization dawned on Padmé. "You think she was forced into the marriage?" It was one of the many times her privileged upbringing had made her naive.
"I've heard of it happening many times before," Anakin answered grimly.
Their conversation was cut short as Anakin expertly maneuvered the skiff, gliding low over the undulating dunes. Padmé peered through the viewport and spotted a solitary structure in the distance. "Look, there!" she exclaimed, pointing towards the humble dwelling. Anakin landed the skiff nearby, and as the ramp lowered, Padmé instructed Artoo, "Stay with the ship." She then followed Anakin towards the hut, her curiosity piqued by the sight of a dusty protocol droid tinkering with a sensor nearby.
As they approached, the droid straightened and greeted them in a flustered tone. "Oh, hello. How might I be of service? I am See-"
Recognition dawned simultaneously on Anakin and Padmé. "Threepio?" Anakin exclaimed.
"Oh my!" the droid exclaimed, and he began to shake violently. "Oh, my maker! Master Anakin! I knew you would return! I knew you would! And this must be Miss Padmé!"
"Hello, Threepio," Padmé replied politely, amused by the droid's enthusiastic outburst.
"I've come to see my mother," Anakin explained, his gaze searching the surroundings.
Threepio, his agitation subsiding, gestured towards the hut. "Oh yes, come in."
Shmi hummed softly as she washed dishes, the familiar rhythm of her task a comforting constant. The sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention, and she turned to see Threepio ushering in a young man and woman. "Mistress Shmi," the droid announced formally, "there is someone here for you."
Ignoring any protocol, the young man rushed towards Shmi, a beaming smile lighting up his face. He enveloped her in a tight hug, his voice thick with emotion. "You're safe. Thank the Force."
"Ani," she breathed, her heart overflowing with joy as she recognized her son. She clung to him, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Her gaze then shifted to the woman, recognizing Padmé, the former Queen's handmaiden.
"I've wanted to see you for so long," Anakin confessed, pulling back slightly. "But I couldn't."
"I know," Shmi replied, her voice laced with understanding. "Your Jedi friend told me about… no attachments."
"Obi-Wan sent someone?" Anakin asked, a flicker of hope igniting within him.
"No, Dooku came himself," Shmi responded.
Padmé, who had been observing the reunion with a gentle smile, stiffened at the mention of the Count's name. "Count Dooku?" she interjected, her voice sharp. "What did he want?"
"Nothing," Shmi assured her, stepping away from Anakin to explain. "He rescued me from the Tuskens when they… took me."
"What?" Anakin exclaimed, his concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, thanks to Dooku," Shmi affirmed. "He also has a message for you." She disappeared into the bedroom, returning with a small holo-projector.
As she did, Padmé turned to Anakin, her expression thoughtful. "I thought Dooku was trying to kill me, but… maybe he didn't. Perhaps I was wrong about him."
"Why would Dooku try to kill you?" Shmi inquired, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"I don't know," Padmé admitted. "Perhaps because of my political stance in the Senate."
"You're a Senator?" Shmi asked, surprised.
"I forgot you only knew me as a handmaiden," Padmé chuckled. "I was Queen in disguise when we were on Tatooine."
"He seemed… kind," Shmi murmured, activating the holo-projector.
Dooku's image materialized, his posture regal and his voice calm. "Hello, Anakin Skywalker. I am Count Dooku, Qui-Gon's former Master. While on Tatooine, I learned of Shmi's abduction and felt compelled to help. I instructed your mother to deliver this message should you return. The Jedi may forbid you from contacting me, but I would welcome communication. You can find me on Geonosis, where I am working on a project. Feel free to bring anyone you trusted to Tatooine. I know the Separatists are there, but just inform them that you were invited by me. I hope to see you soon, and may the Force be with you, Anakin."
The image faded, leaving a charged silence in its wake. Padmé was the first to speak, her voice filled with determination. "This is a perfect opportunity. I must go. If I can prove the Separatists are open for diplomacy, I could defeat the Military Creation Act."
"You just said that he was trying to kill you," Anakin countered, his protectiveness flaring. "You can't just walk into danger." Shmi could tell that his words held a depth of emotion that transcended their mission, hinting at a deeper concern for her well-being.
"You should at least stay to meet your stepbrother and stepfather, Anakin," Shmi interjected, sensing the tension between them.
"How do you like him?" Anakin asked, his gaze searching his mother's face. He was asking more than just about Cliegg; he needed reassurance that she wasn't trapped in an unwanted marriage.
Shmi understood his unspoken question. "Cliegg is wonderful, Ani. Trust me."
Anakin still seemed apprehensive, but he nodded, letting the subject drop for now. The reunion with his mother, who was safe, the revelation of Dooku's message, his feelings for Padmé, and the prospect of Padmé venturing into potential danger – it was all too much to process at once. He needed time, and probably a motherly conversation with Shmi.