𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎

𝐓𝐄𝐍

    "I've come to see my mother," Anakin says, quickly dampening the bright mood. Astrid felt the hair on the back of her neck stand at his brooding and dark stare.

    "Oh dear..." the droid practically frowned, "I'm so terribly sorry, Master Ani."

    Astrid and Padme share a look of wariness. Padme speaks up, "Threepio, what's happened?"

    It shifts awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say. The air around them suddenly became thick and suffocating. "I think you better come inside," the droid insisted.

    So they listened, moving through the main entrance, into a large courtyard. It was deathly silent, enough to hear a screw drop from Threepio, but Astrid was too afraid to break it. Her eyes land on Anakin's curled fist as he stomps beside the droid desperate for his mother.

    Padme leans into Astrid's ear, "what do you think has happened?"

    "I don't know," the girl frowned, thinking back to what Anakin had told her about the nightmares. She could only pray they weren't true. Again, she could feel the frustration of the boy–he had traveled a long distance to find his mother only to be pointed in another direction each time. There was also a large amount of dread, it settled heavily in her stomach, creating a weightful pit.

    "Master Lars–Master Owen," Threepio called out, "there are visitors here to see you."

    After a moment of shifting into a tense silence, the sandy doors slid open. A young man and woman approach, both with light hair and a slight sunburn. They were obviously together with the way the man held the woman to his side.

   "I'm Anakin Skywalker," Anakin steps forward, his face blank of any emotions, "I'm here to look for my mother."

    "Owen Lars," the young man said, shaking Anakin's hand. Everything suddenly felt so awkward. "Skywalker, you said? Huh, I–uh, guess I'm your stepbrother. This is my girlfriend, Beru."

    "Hello," the girlfriend waves shyly. The girls put on their kindest smiles and give her a nod.

    "I'm Astrid," the Apollonian shakes her hand, in the most diplomatic voice she could muster at the moment. "This is Padme."

    "Hello, it's lovely meeting you," the Nabooian says.

    "I had a feeling you might show up one day," Owen says, looking at the bright sun beating down on them. The way the words were spoken, there was a bitter twist to it like he wanted nothing more than to kick Anakin out of the homestead.

    Anakin, picking up on this, spoke more to the point, "is my mother here?"

    "No," another gruff voice spoke from the doorway, "no, she's not." An older man joined them, who Astrid assumed to be Shmi's husband. Her eyes widened for a split second before forcing them to go normal when she noticed the blood-soaked bandages wrapping a nub and his leg. "Cliegg Lars, Shmi is my wife," Astrid could see the way his face dropped as if mourning, "I assume you're her boy the Jedi took." A large pause, "you all should come inside, we have much to talk about."

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    "THEY CAME JUST BEFORE DAWN," Cliegg frowns, his eyes clouded over with grief and loss. The six of them were seated around the small dining table–Astrid was practically on Anakin's lap. But no one complained, it was too grim of a mood as Cliegg continued his story. "Out of nowhere...I've never...I've never seen anything like it."

    "Who came?" Anakin's hand fumbles under the table to find Astrid's, and when he does, he grips it so tightly that Astrid almost feels pain.

    "Hunting party. Tusken Warriors. Your mother had Your mother had gone out early, like she always did, to pick mushrooms that grow on the vaporators. From the tracks, she was about halfway home when they took her."