ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴛᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ in which Anakin and the rest of the slaves lived, the sandstorm was already starting to roll in. We had to have been only walking for a couple minutes--ten at the most--yet we were already being pelted with intense wind and swirls of sand, making it hard to walk straight or even see clearly.
Thankfully, Anakin seemed to know where he was going. He led us to a row of apartments, with door after door built into the sandstone structure. All of the apartments looked mostly the same to me, with their monotonous structure, but Anakin easily knew which home was his. We reached the metal door, and he pressed a button on the keypad next to it, causing the door to hiss open. Anakin was the first one in, shaking excess sand off of his hair. "Mom!" He called. "Mom, I'm home!"
As a pretty woman with tightly-tied brown hair rounded the corner into the entryway, she blinked in surprise, taking in our large group.
"Ah! Dissen cozy," Jar Jar remarked.
Anakin noticed his mother's confused expression as Qui-Gon, the last of our group, settled into the entryway and shut the door cautiously behind him. "These are my friends, mom!" Anakin enthused, introducing us. "This is Padmé, and her friend Emeré. And that's Jar Jar."
"Hello," Jar Jar said enthusiastically, and I bowed, smiling at her.
"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn," the Jedi Knight said, stepping forward to introduce himself as Anakin turned to Padmé eagerly.
"I'm building a droid! Wanna see?" Anakin grinned and grabbed Padmé's arm. "Come on, I'll show you 3PO!"
As the two ran off, R2D2 keenly following, I turned back to Anakin's bewildered and overwhelmed-looking mother. "Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter from the incoming sandstorm."
Qui-Gon smiled at her and pulled the fruit Anakin had bought us earlier from his pocket, along with some food capsules he'd brought from the ship. "I have enough food for a meal, as a thank you for hosting us."
The woman looked positively delighted, and I could see why--from the thinness of her stature and the sullenness of her face, it looked like she hadn't had a proper meal in days. "Oh, thank you," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She took the food thankfully from Qui-Gon and led us toward the kitchen, smiling back at us. "I'm Shmi, by the way. Shmi Skywalker. I'm sorry if I was rude earlier, I was just a bit shocked to see you all here." She laughed a little. "I don't think I'll ever get used to Anakin's surprises."
"Don't worry about it," I told her. "Anakin's hospitality came as a bit of a shock to us as well."
Shmi squeezed through a small archway that led to a small but cozy kitchen, complete with a couple of appliances and a little bit of counter space--just enough to prepare a meal in. She set the food carefully down onto the counter and smiled over at us. "Don't worry. Not everyone in the spaceport is conniving or dangerous. You do come across decent people every now and then. And my Ani... he sure is special."
"Special, indeed," Qui-Gon agreed. A little beep sounded from his belt, a sound I recognized to come from his com-link. He pulled the little machine off of his belt and examined it quickly before turning back to Shmi. "If you would excuse me for just a moment."
The woman nodded, and Qui-Gon fixated his blue eyes on me for just a moment, sending me a private message. Stay here, he seemed to say.
I nodded in reply, then turned to Shmi. Qui-Gon's message could only mean one thing... there were developments from the ship, which meant I had to keep Anakin's mother distracted. "Here," I said, touching her shoulder. "I'll help you with dinner."
Shmi smiled gratefully at me as Qui-Gon made his way into the next room for some privacy.
Anakin's mom turned out to be a very pleasant, wonderful woman. As we prepared dinner together, we chatted, discussing our lives growing up. Eventually the subject turned to slavery, and Shmi enlightened me with her own story.
"I grew up in slavery, too," she admitted as we added some water to Qui-Gon's food capsules. "It was a fate I didn't wish on my son, but I'm afraid it was unavoidable." She shook her head, sighing sadly.
"I'm sorry," I told her. "It sounds like you had a very rough upbringing. No one deserves to be a slave."
Shmi sighed, staring down at the counter. "No," she agreed. "But it was a fate I couldn't escape. My parents and I were abducted by pirates and forced into slavery when I was just three years old."
I inhaled sharply. "That's awful. I'm so sorry."
"I've gotten used to it." Shmi smiled sadly, beginning to chop up Anakin's fruit. "At least I got to explore the universe as I did so. Me and my family had to have been moved at least every other year when I was young." She shook her head again. "Anakin's been stuck here since he was three, poor boy. All he wants is to see the world."
My heart ached. Anakin's longing was a familiar feeling to me. I turned to Shmi. "If you could free him--let him go, explore the universe, grow up outside of slavery, even if it meant you'd never see him again... would you?"
Shmi smiled. "In a heartbeat." She sighed in contentment, as if imagining her son living the life he deserved. She began to smile, but her feeling of positivity was short-lived. "But I'm afraid it's impossible." She dropped her head again, continuing to chop the fruit.
I smiled wryly, turning my head down as well to help her with the fruit. That was another key difference between me and the boy. At least Anakin's mother cared about him--so much so that she'd be willing to sacrifice her own happiness for his. My father had never cared about me for who I was... only who I could be. And my mother... she hadn't seemed to care at all.
"Well, if I know anything from how I grew up, it's that nothing's impossible," I assured Shmi. "There may still be hope yet for you and your son."
Shmi smiled again, but this time, it didn't reach her eyes. "That's a nice thought."
"Emeré."
Both Shmi and I turned to see Qui-Gon standing in the archway, his eyes urgent. He had just finished putting his comm back in his pocket, meaning he was done talking to Obi-Wan, but whatever it was they had discussed had been important, based on the look in Qui-Gon's eyes.
I glanced from Shmi to the Jedi Knight, torn between wanting to help finish dinner and cheer up Shmi, and wanting to follow my responsibilities as a Jedi Padawan. Shmi noticed my hesitation and nudged me.
"Go," she insisted "I'll be fine." I shot her one last look, but yet, she still smiled. "Go!"
Finally, I nodded, and made my way over to Qui-Gon. As I left, I turned to Jar Jar, who I'd noticed had been examining Shmi's previous supply of food in the fridge. Before he could steal any and make the Skywalkers' lives even worse, I snapped my fingers at him. "Jar Jar. Help Miss Skywalker with dinner, will you?"
Jar Jar looked shocked. "Mesa?"
"Yes, yousa," I replied. "Now, go. I have to talk to Qui-Gon."
I shot Shmi one last smile before disappearing around the corner, following Qui-Gon to a more private room. As soon as I was sure Shmi couldn't hear us, I turned to the Jedi. "What is it? What happened?"
"I've just gotten done communicating with Obi-Wan. The Queen has received a transmission from Governor Sio Bibble," Qui-Gon informed me seriously. "Obi-Wan says it was an urgent plea for help, and that the Queen is growing anxious."
I shook my head. "They didn't respond, did they? Governor Sio would be the last person to tell P- the Queen to come back." I quickly corrected myself before I could let Padmé's name slip, only hoping Qui-Gon hadn't noticed. "It sounds like a bait to establish a connection trace."
Qui-Gon nodded. "You're quite right, young Padawan. Obi-Wan has told them not to respond for the time being, but the Queen is only growing more worried. We're running out of time to get to Coruscant and stop this invasion."
I swallowed hard, deep in thought. My thoughts were muddled, however, especially after my talk with Shmi. I was feeling sadly reminiscent of my life on Naboo, thinking in displeasure of my parents. On top of that, Obi-Wan was fresh on my mind as well, and I couldn't help but wish he was here with me on this mission, too. Something about him always made my mind clear and sharp... made me so certain, so determined.
No, I told myself. I can't. No attachment. No allowing myself a path to the dark side.
"Emeré?" Qui-Gon was leaning over in concern, trying to look me in the eye. "Emeré, I sense confusion emanating from you in waves. Are you sure you don't need a break? Some sleep, perhaps?"
"I'm fine," I insisted, but I spoke much too quickly. Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow momentarily... I could tell he didn't believe me.
"I'm sorry," I told him softly, deciding to tell him at least half the truth. "Just being here... it's that Anakin reminds me so much of myself, and it's taking me back to a dark place in my life."
Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled momentarily, as if putting the final piece of a puzzle together. "Ah," he breathed. "It makes so much more sense now."
I frowned. "I'm sorry, but what does?"
The Jedi merely shook his head. "It's unimportant. What is important is finishing what we came here to do. As soon as this storm blows past, we need to leave this place, and work out a way to get the parts we need for our ship."
I nodded. "In the meantime, I'll brainstorm possibilities."
Qui-Gon regarded me with a smile. "Wonderful." He hesitated for a moment. "You know, when I first met you, and you wouldn't stop bickering with Obi-Wan, I wasn't sure what to make of you. But I now see why Kera regards you so highly." He patted me on the shoulder before walking off. "You're going to make a great Jedi Knight."
Coming from Qui-Gon, that compliment shook me to my very core, sending a fiery feeling of pride and delight throughout every nerve of my body. Blood rushed to my face, heating up my cheeks. "Thank you, Master."
He didn't say anything in reply, but I wasn't paying attention, anyway. That was all I'd needed--a serious, constructive comment from someone who cared about me--to clear my mind. Qui-Gon believed in me, Kera believed in me... I wasn't letting a tiny little crush get in the way of that. My attachment was not going to prevent me from reaching my ambitions.
But what if that isn't your ambition?
That tiny voice in the back of my head was really starting to annoy me. I wasn't throwing away my dream of becoming a Jedi Knight for some twenty year old red-head I'd just met.
Love makes people do reckless things.
I rolled my eyes. A friendship... a crush... whatever it was I felt for Obi-Wan. It wasn't love. I could easily squash it.
Keep telling yourself that.
"Shut up," I told myself.
The voice was gone, and I sighed in relief. But it had made one thing abundantly clear. As much as I'd hoped it might... distance from that stupid apprentice was not making things better.
✧✧✧
Hey everyone! Here we are, back for chapter eleven! I really enjoyed writing this chapter--I loved writing about Emeré bonding with Shmi and even with Qui-Gon... it's been so fun expanding her story and relationships with others! On top of that, though, Emeré is just getting more and more confused and full of turmoil, especially over Obi-Wan... you'll have to see where that takes her!
Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to leave a vote or comment what you thought of it! I appreciate all of you who have been voting on my story so far, and even those who have just been reading it! This story is already at 100 reads which is so crazy to me :) Thanks to all of you! See you next chapter!
~ ᴋᴀᴛᴇʟʏɴ ~