Anakin Skywalker was the son of the Force and in this universe the primordial power flowing through everything stayed to guide him. “Mom,” Anakin said, blue eyes glowing bright like a thousand suns. Blood was dripping from his legs, his hands, the knife he was holding. “Mom, I can free us.” THIS IS COPY PASTE ORIGINAL : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22880668/chapters/54686671
Shmi had always been able to feel other people's presence and it was only due to that ability that she had survived as long and as well as she had. She could be dead twice over, her body broken to no repair, but Shmi was still standing, her eyes averted, but alive. She could always tell when she needed to disappear into the shadows to avoid a beating, or when to step out of them so she'd make it to the next day.
And then, one morning, she woke up to find her own presence changed. She threw up the meager content of her empty stomach until she was heaving up acid.
No, no, no, no, she thought, screamed as loudly as she was allowed to. The other slaves in the quarter believed her to have finally broken, snapped like a cord stretched too far.
But Shmi's mind was clear, or at least all she could remember was. She didn't have any gaps in her memories and all the other slaves reassured her that she'd slept well through the night.
Everything in her screamed that they were speaking the truth, that nobody had stolen her away and forced themselves upon her, but there was no other possibility.
She'd managed to be spared some of the worst cruelties of this life for years, but even her luck had to run out someday.
Such was the life of a slave.
X
It took two months for the others to understand why Shmi had become hysteric so many nights ago. Their sometimes kind, sometimes pitiful looks were much too late then anyway and Shmi wasn't sure whether to resent or appreciate them.
"The Master doesn't know yet," their elder told her confidentially. "It's not too late. You don't have to keep it."
Shmi knew that, but yet she couldn't bring herself to consent.
Mine, something cooed. Mine, yours, ours, bright, precious child, so beautiful, keep it, keep him. I will ruin you.
"No," Shmi heard her own voice say. "I will raise my son."
The option of various choices, she had learned early on, did not always mean that you were actually allowed to pick.
X
Anakin was born during a sandstorm. It was a long and difficult birth, so painful that Shmi regretted al the choices she hadn't been able to make. Shmi spent the entire day in fear. She was scared of death, of hating her child of loving him too much, and yet-
Trust me, it breathed like a poisonous lover. He's a gift, but you have to let go of yourself and trust me, me, me.
Her son's eyes were the color of the sky, of dying stars and life and it sang in joy. Shmi hadn't cried in years, crying was a waste of water on Tatooine, but she wouldn't hold back the tears, just this once.
Change, it chanted. Balance. Freedom.
"Hope," Shmi whispered and pulled Anakin close to her chest.
X
Nothing and yet everything changed after Anakin's birth. Unlike most slave children, Anakin never fell sick due to the poor conditions they were living in, nor did any visible injuries stay for long. Only one pain wouldn't go away, no matter how many hours he rested in the shadows. Anakin suffered from terrible headaches, and it frustrated Shmi how long it took her to find the source of his misery.
"Listen to me," Shmi told him as another slave got punished and all of them were forced to watch. "Only to me and nobody else."
Shmi stayed calm and Anakin's head was clear. Even though he was standing behind her, Shmi felt as if they were lying on their dirty matt together, curled beneath a warm blanket.
I love you, Shmi promised. You'll be safe with me.
X
Anakin learned much faster than he should and Shmi could see how it worried the other slaves. They helped her keep Anakin's otherness secret either way, especially when it turned out that his presence benefitted them.
The guards and Masters became less harsh in his presence, left earlier, didn't ask as many questions and weren't as suspicious. More slaves stayed alive, stayed healthy and Shmi couldn't tell them why.
Change, it laughed, amused as if Shmi was an ignorant little insect, precious only for her colors.
Tell me, she begged, but got no reply in return.
And then Anakin began levitating objects, told guards to leave them alone and Shmi could only watch as the men turned around, dazed like they had spent too many hours in the sun.
"He's Force-sensitive!" A new arrival hissed when they saw Anakin working, his tools flying around his head. They were from one of the Core Worlds but had gotten kidnapped by pirates. "Like those Jedi!"
"This is what it's called?" Shmi asked and the other person nodded sharply.
Shmi's fingernails dug into the palms of her hands, not yet drawing blood, but hurting enough to ground her.
Tell me, she demanded this time, furious and protective. Her son, it had said. If Anakin was hers, Shmi had the right to know. Tell me what he is.
Mine, yours, ours, the Force laughed, filled with pride. Half here, half there. More than any of you, less than me. Yours to cherish, love and raise, mine to guide, teach, and become.
Shmi's throat closed up. The wind was dancing around her legs, she could feel every single grain of sand on her skin, but at the same time she was standing in the other, that part of the universe Anakin was always half-submerged in.
She turned and-
"Mom?" He said, his voice wavering.
He took a step back, or perhaps just pushed her away further into the void. Wings of stained glass engulfed his body, protecting him from seeing the horror on her face, or perhaps keeping her save from him. It was like staring into the sun, seeing colors you could never quite replicate, the feeling of water running over your bruised hands.
For the first time in four years, Shmi could see what this other half of her son was and she had to admit that the Force had been right. Their son was beautiful.
No harm will come to him, Shmi demanded once more as reality warped again. Anakin stared up at her with his beautiful eyes that never seemed human enough. You will keep him safe or I will tear you apart.
Of course, Lucky One, they said, for harming him means harming me.
X
Anakin couldn't conceal his emotions like Shmi, no matter how much he tried to swallow them. He was too strong for that, too aware. Shmi knew he loved her and would do everything for her, no matter if she'd asked it of him or not.
"Mom," Anakin said, blue eyes glowing bright like a thousand suns.
Blood was dripping from his legs, his hands, the knife he was holding. "Mom, I can free us."
Shmi knew better than to be terrified, to show or feel any fear. Anakin's senses were fine-tuned to the people surrounding him. He had learned how to shield, but his primary defense was still Shmi. She had to be calm. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, to assess the situation. Her child was bleeding but shining with delight, the Force wrapped around him hummed with pride.
"Anakin, what did you do?"
Most of the time, Shmi felt like a single mother, raising her barely human son and keeping the primordial Force guiding him in check. But sometimes the Force took charge and Shmi was horribly out of control.
"I learned how to search for sickness!" The four-year-old proclaimed. "And then I found my transmitter and cut it out."
Anakin raised his hand and opened it, showing her a small metal piece.
It was his slave transmitter. Shmi knew what they looked like, though she hadn't been there when they put it in her son.
He was free.
"Yours is here," Anakin said confidently and put his small hand on her shoulder, smearing blood all over it.
"I can take it out."
She could be free. It wouldn't take long, they only needed to burn the blade to cleanse it. Her life was just within reach-
"Not yet," Shmi decided. "We need a plan first."
Flames erupted within her mind, Anakin's anger. It was too easy to get eternally lost in it. She soothed it with the few pleasant memories she had and pulled her son close.
"A few credits, food and shelter," she told him. "Then we can go."
Anakin bit his cheek and blew a raspberry. "Fine. We have to go though."
"And where?" Shmi asked.
"Away," Anakin replied, and rested his head against her shoulder, her lifeline, her shackles. "They're waiting for me. They're mine and they need me."
Shmi could feel the Force grin, wide and happy with razor-sharp teeth.
This, she realized, she wouldn't be able to deny her child and its guardian. The only option she had was following the two to remind Anakin that he needed to stop and take care of himself.
He might be half there, but he was half here too. Just human enough that the Force alone couldn't sate him.
X
Anakin took out her transmitter a week later, then those of the other slaves, one by one cutting through flesh to freedom. It should disturb her how fascinated Anakin was by the process. While the other slaves were all crying of happiness, celebrating their freedom, Anakin could hardly be torn away from the sight of life flowing beneath his fingertips. Each night they went to bed, her son acted as if high on spice and yet each morning he returned back to work, determined and focus.
What are you doing to him?
Humans. Pain. Pleasure. Destruction. Healing. Strength, all for us to consume, they sighed wistfully. Let him continue.
They thought of disabling the explosives at first, getting rid of them in the trash, but no matter how far away from instant death they were, they were not yet free, not completely.
Gardulla the Hutt's palace was a fortress, impossible to conquer from outside. But from within the palace walls, it was almost too easy. Nobody paid too much attention to the slaves who were running through the halls. They weren't dangerous as none of them were armed.
Anakin hid with the other children, knives and rocks flying above their heads as their only defense. Shmi and the others turned on the explosives, forcefully taking over the building they hadn't ever been allowed to leave. The hallways were painted in blood, and not one of them died.
You're so strong, Rich One, the Force praised her. Now take our son where he belongs.
X
They raided the treasury, sharing the wealth equally between them. Slaves weren't greedy by necessity and so Shmi and Anakin had just the amount they needed to get off Tatooine. Some of the free left with them, others had decided to stay on planet and in the castle.
"We're gonna take all these bastards out," the free woman in charge promised, grinning. "We have weapons and money. They won't see us coming. May the Stars guide you through the night."
"May the desert hide your tracks," Shmi replied and squeezed Anakin's hand.
Her son was already staring ahead, putting the past behind him.
X
Anakin guided them from one planet to the next, picking which ships they should board and leave. They lingered on Naboo a little longer than necessary, enjoying the mild climate and the abundance of water.
"We're gonna be back," Anakin said as they watched the planet become smaller and smaller.
Shmi recognized his tone of voice as the one she'd come to understand as significant. She wouldn't go as far as to call it prophetic, but she knew her son spoke the truth.
"Tell me a story!" Anakin then insisted, four years old still and captivated by the legends their people told each other at night.
X
When they arrived on Coruscant, Anakin hesitated.
"It's loud," he said as Shmi picked him up, walking into the direction of the Jedi temple. "And there's no balance."
Shmi was fairly sure that those words weren't enough to explain how the world felt to Anakin, so she tried her best to calm him and keep him isolated from all these foreign signatures. She hoped the Jedi would be able to help them. Anakin's powers grew by the day and she wasn't sure how much longer she alone would be enough to contain them.
X
One moment everything was silent, then Obi-Wan's mind fractured into a thousand impressions. He barely registered his knees hitting the ground, his Master's worry. The world around Obi-Wan was so loud, seemed to be screaming at him as it tore down his shields. As soon as Obi-Wan had repaired one wall, another broke. No matter how fast he worked, he couldn't keep up. If he didn't fix them now, he'd drown, burn, choke on the power that had kept him alive all these years.
"Let him through!" A woman shouted.
Something slammed into Obi-Wan, sent him crashing down to the floor. He landed flat on his back as someone crawled on top of him. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and saw the future.
On autopilot he wrapped his arms around the child, foreheads touching and-
Anakin, bright one, heart, soul, the warrior, I missed you, mine, mine, mine-
The silence didn't return, but the chaos stopped as it was taken over by warmth, love, and protectiveness.
"Hello, dear one," Obi-Wan said, and a weight he hadn't even noticed carrying for all his life suddenly lifted from his shoulders.
"Been waiting for you," Anakin cried, tears running over his round cheeks. "For so, so long, it hurt."
"I know, I'm sorry, I'm here. I'm never leaving you again."
Rationally, Obi-Wan knew he shouldn't make such declarations, but the Force was humming in approval and he wouldn't take back his words for anything. He belonged right here at Anakin's side and nobody would tear them apart again.
He could feel the other Jedi in the hall staring at them and Obi-Wan had never cared less. He'd leave it all if necessary
Let them come, they hissed. Let them try. They won't survive. There will be Balance. There will be you and you are ours.
Mine, Anakin hummed, a thousand eyes fixated on Obi-Wan. Yours. He could feel Anakin's feathers wrap around him, cutting into his skin like a childish attempt of giving Obi-Wan a part of himself as a gift to strengthen their bond.
Ours, Obi-Wan replied and picked Anakin up, barely feeling any pain from the golden fire-dripping feathers sticking out of his back. His wounds would heal once Anakin learnt.
"Master," Obi-Wan called out to Qui-Gon. "We need to talk to the Council."
His Master hastened to follow the two of them and Anakin giggled into the crook of Obi-Wan's neck.