Better than a Slave’s Life
By Beni_hime_scream
Disclaimer: all characters and places belong to George Lucas. No credits were made from this story – I do it purely for love.
Rating: G
Genre: Missing Scene
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The howling wind picked up the omnipresent sand and hurled it against the adobe walls of the Skywalker slave hut in a natural sand blaster, as the latest sandstorm ripped through Mos Espa.
Inside, Shmi Skywalker sat down at her workstation and activated her aeromagnifier. Picking up a computer part, preparing to clean it, she realized it was already clean, and in better repair than she’d left it! She smiled and shook her head as she placed it with the finished ones and selected another.
It wasn’t the first time that one or more pieces had mysteriously cleaned themselves; Shmi knew what had happened. Unable to sleep, Anakin had crept out of bed and started tinkering. Perhaps she should be unhappy with him for sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night, but he was so sweet and thoughtful that somehow she couldn’t.
Her smile widened as she pictured Ani, cheeks and hands smudged with grease, hunched over his latest projects. And what projects they were!
This time it was a protocol droid ‘to help out around the house!’ and, more to her chagrin, a podracer –both constructed entirely out of castoff parts, or pieces Watto deemed worthless.
She didn’t think she’d mind the droid so much – might even welcome the help on days when she felt like the proverbial mother who’s work was never done. But the podracer. That was a bantha of a different color. She closed her eyes against the memory of the last crash. How easily it could’ve claimed her sons’ young life! He hadn’t even finished that race, but she’d been overjoyed when he’d walked away practically unscathed.
Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to discourage him! Anakin had such an uncanny skill with all things mechanical it was almost unreal. And he wasn’t selfish with that skill, either. Apart from his duties at Wotto’s Junk Shop, and his projects, he had befriended Jira, an elderly fruit seller. He was helping her find a cooling unit for her booth. He also liked to help Shmi.
How she enjoyed and treasured that bonding time with her son, when they would sit and clean and tinker with parts, talking and laughing and dreaming together. It was on one such occasion that he told her of a dream in which he’d been a Jedi and freed all the slaves on Tatooine. It wasn’t the first time he’d talked to her about the Jedi. She remembered the mixture of awe, reverence and excitement that had shone brightly in his blue eyes as they spoke of the famed knights of justice. His ultimate, secret dream was to become one himself.
She wanted that for him more than anything! Maybe it was impossible, but so were the circumstances of his conception! After all, her Ani deserved so much better than a slave’s life.
Shmi’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar tingling sensation at the back of her neck that she had come to learn meant that Ani was coming. With rag still in hand, she stood, and went to greet him.
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