Before - Legends A Mother's Gift/Only Darkness - Shmi and Anakin vignette series

Title: A Mother?s Gift
Author: VaderLVR64
Characters: Shmi and Anakin Skywalker
Timeframe: four years pre-TPM
Summary: A mother faces a hard truth and must find a way to help her son accept it.




A Mother?s Gift


It was the time of the Boonta Eve Festival and even the slaves of Tatooine found some small joy in the season. Though they were just as busy, their hands were occupied by labors that seemed light. Perhaps it was the fact that their usual work had been set aside in favor of preparations for the many festivities, or maybe it was merely because their hearts felt less burdened.

No matter the reason, the slaves found that smiles came more readily to their lips.

Shmi Skywalker found herself humming a tune from her childhood, a song her mother had sung to soothe her to sleep. Whenever she heard it, she thought of Tagira Skywalker?s soft, warm hands. Her mother?s face had faded in her memory, but she could still feel the touch of her hands. Shmi was startled from her reverie by two big blue eyes staring at her over the edge of the counter.

She did not need to see the tears that shimmered there to know her son was upset. Quickly rounding the counter, she embraced her son. Her hands ran swiftly over his small body, checking for injuries. Watto did not usually hit the child, but there had been times?

Finding nothing, she kissed his cheek in relief.

?What is it, Ani?? she asked softly, wiping away the single tear that had fallen despite his best efforts to hold it at bay.

Anakin seemed unable to speak, but instead threw his body into her embrace once more, his sweaty little arms holding tightly to her neck. At last he gave way to his sobs and soon her tunic was soaked.

But she remained where she was, kneeling on the dusty floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her son, who shuddered uncontrollably. Murmuring softly to him in the soothing language of her childhood, she held him close until the storm of tears passed.

Finally, she leaned back and then wiped his face clean with the hem of her tunic. When all trace of his tears except for his red and swollen eyes had been erased, she smiled at him.

?There,? she said. ?Now, tell me what is wrong.?

Long lashes fell down to shield his bright blue gaze. He worried his bottom lip with his small, white teeth.

?What if Watto sells you?? His voice was quiet and he still did not meet her eyes.

For a moment she felt as if her heart had stuttered in her chest, like a man who has taken a hard, unexpected clout to the head and somehow staggered back to his feet.

?What do you mean?? she asked, trying desperately to mask her own fear. Anakin was six years old and extremely intelligent for his age. He was well aware of their status and their lack of power or any right to decide their own fates.

?Lali?s mother was sold today,? he said, his breath hitching. ?Her master sold her to a slaver who took her off planet already!? At last he met her gaze. ?What if Watto sells you and I never see you again??

Shmi stared at her son, unsure of what to say. There were words of reassurance she could offer, but they would be empty promises that would be beyond her to keep. They were slaves and their destinies were not in their own hands. In her son?s question was her worst fear ? that they would be torn apart.

Her mind urged her to utter sham pledges, to say anything that would ease his fears. She wanted to let tomorrow?s troubles take care of themselves. Today?s joys were theirs, not to be blighted by futures that might not be.

But she had vowed never to lie to her son. She had so little to give him, but the truth was one gift it was in her power to bestow. So her heart told her that no matter how harsh and ugly, she had to give him the truth at least.

With a sigh she got to her feet and took his hand, leading him to a chair. She sat down and settled him in her lap. He rested in head on her shoulder, content to simply be with her for the moment. Shmi ran her fingers through his tousled hair, contemplating what she wanted to say.

 

How lovely and tender your portrayal of a mother's love! You really captured the essence of the relationship between Shmi and Anakin beautifully. Great viggie!

 

Ooh, lovely, Vadey. Especially in light of what happens later... . Li'l Ani is cute! Loved Shmi's praying to the various Goddesses, to help her son through. And that truth hurts, yet its the only gift she can give. Perrr-fect.

 

So sad!

The song she sang was beautiful and it was very interesting how she prayed to the goddesses from her childhood. I loved all the little details!

 

Lovely vignette. I liked that Shmi didn't lie to Anakin and tell him they would never be parted. Poor kid. That must be very frightening for him to even think about. Excellent job with the characterizations!

 

This was lovely! Her fears for her son and her refusal to lie to him were so typical of a mother's love. and

 

Very nicely written! Everyone else already said what I enjoyed most about it, so I'll just chime in and say I enjoyed it!

 

AWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Too sweet yet sad!

Excellent job!

 

This was lovely! Sad, but touching.

 

LadyPadme Thank you, I always feel very humble when I write Shmi because I can only imagine what it must have cost her emotionally to let Anakin go.

ithesock I see Shmi as very spiritual in her own way. But then, I'm weird!

AnakinsHeir I've always loved mythology, so I had fun using that!

dianethx Dean Koontz has a character in one of his books and his mantra is "Never lie to the dog." Hubby and I have the same sort of mantra for the kids. "Don't lie to the kids. It will come back and bite you on the butt later." We're nothing if not practical!

LukesTheMan Thank you. I wanted to portray that unselfish love and hopefully I did.

SabyneAmberle And I'll just say THANK YOU!

Miana Kenobi I was in that type of mood! Thank you.

Jedi-Tiger-Lilly Sad and touching? I'll take it with a big thank you!

---

Title: Only Darkness
Author: VaderLVR64
Characters: Shmi and Anakin Skywalker, Watto
Summary: Shmi faces a demon against which she has no defense.
Notes: There is a mild spoiler in this story, nothing to do with Anakin and Padme or the events of ROTS, but something mentioned in the ROTS novelization about Anakin?s past. Written for the "Only darkness in things we love" Anakin/Vader challenge.


[b]Only Darkness [/b]


Shmi Skywalker sat at her son?s bedside patiently bathing his sweaty face. She ignored the tears running down her own cheeks, was not even really aware of them. She was focused only on her son and the fact that he was battling for his life.

He tossed and turned on his tiny cot, the fever stealing whatever healing that sleep might provide. Watto, of course, would not call a medic. A six year old slave boy was not valuable enough to waste the credits. And this little boy was a spirited imp who did not know how to be submissive.

It was up to her to save his life.

The fever was high and she could not seem to bring it down. She had tried every herbal remedy she knew, and still it raged. His face was flushed, making him look as if he?d spent days burning under the Tatooine suns.

?NO!?

Anakin?s voice broke the mournful silence as she waited for him to live or to die. If he died then so would she; there would be nothing left to live for if Anakin was not in her life.

He lifted up his hands as if to protect his face. He flinched away from her touch when she tried to soothe him with a cool cloth.

?No, Master Watto, please,? Anakin screamed. ?NO! Don't hit me! Mommy, it hurts!"

Her son?s voice became a keening wail that ripped through her, gouging out a hole in her heart that would never be healed. She knew what made him cry out as he struggled within the fever?s grip. She had heard him cry out just like this before, in the night when he dreamed.

Anakin dreamed almost every night.

Most of them were good dreams, happy dreams of what he would do when he escaped this planet and his bondage. But sometimes he dreamed of things that no child should know.

Two years ago, just one year after they had become the property of Watto, Anakin had angered the Toydarian. A childish prank that had somehow gone wrong, but Anakin would not apologize. The little alien had passed beyond anger into a rage that had frightened her.

And Anakin had suffered.

Watto had beaten the young boy so severely that he had actually parted with some of his precious credits to secure medical care for him. Even the hardened medic had blanched when he had seen the tiny body lying on the cot, blood trickling from his nose and both eyes swollen shut. A broken rib and three broken fingers as well as internal bruising had been the result of Watto?s frenzy.

Her son had recovered, but he had not forgotten. And he had not forgiven.

At times, Shmi had seen the shadow of his anger flash through his blue eyes. She had seen it and she had worried. But she had understood.

Helplessness had fed that anger, turned into something her son struggled with every day. She knew the beast well herself. What had be

 

Wow. Wow.

So these are Ani's beginnings - beaten ruthlessly (Ugh, I hate Watto!) - I loved it that he couldn't forgive, or forget. And how Shmi's trying to desperately to 'save' him. Bravo! [How do you write these up so fast??!! How I envy you ]

 

You really seem to be able to get into Shmi's thoughts! I love these little peeks into her life.

 

Oh, wow. These are incredibly good. You really write mother-child relationships superbly. (As would be natural, eh? ) I remember your vig from when Shmi found out she was pregnant--that was very heartwrenching. And these two are wonderful, as well.

Yeah, Watto stinks. Just makes you want to beat him with bat. Four years old! I remember that bit in the novelization, too--good job here, showing how it has burrowed into his psyche, slowing spreading poison. Poor Shmi! She tries so hard. Slavery sucks.

 

That was heartbreaking! Now I want to add Watto to my hit list. Palpatine already has a place of honor on it!

 

How come you never hug me like that? Oh yeah, Dad can't sell you.

Loved it. And can I borrow $10?

Just kidding. But not really.

 

Princess_ArulmozhiWell, the second one was written a while back for a challenge. And thank you for reading. I'm such a huge fan of your work that I get a goofy grin on my face when I see you've liked something I've written!

LukesTheMan I love Shmi! So I love writing her, too.

maychorian Yes, it was inspired by that bit in the novel. Although he was portrayed much differently in Tatooine Ghost. Ugh, continuity!

AnakinsHeirI think after reading ROTS you'll have to stand in line.

VadersMistress Come here and I'll give you a hug! But not $10.

And thank you to those who nominated this little viggie for an award! I was shocked and pleased.

 

Just putting all my Shmi vignettes together!


A short vignette featuring Shmi Skywalker, just before the birth of her son.

My Chosen One

Shmi found herself walking slowly these days down the dusty streets of Mos Espa. The heat, as always, was suffocating, but to a woman nine months pregnant it was devastating. She caressed her belly as if to reassure the child within that she held him no grudge for her discomfort and trudged onward. Her small hovel had not seemed this far away yesterday, but she knew it was the burden her body carried that made it seem so. She would be so glad when this little one arrived! It seemed she had been carrying this baby forever and she was so anxious to greet this little miracle that she could barely stand any more delay. At last she spied her doorway, and a sigh of relief escaped her. Finally!

She entered her humble home and began to put away the few purchases she had made. Doing extra work on the side had enabled her to put aside a few coins. While these coins could have been used to satisfy the strange cravings she felt every now and then, she had stubbornly saved them to purchase a few things for the baby. She sat down heavily and rubbed her rough hand back and forth across the mound of her belly. She felt the child within her move in response to her touch. Although he, or she, was running out of room Shmi could sometimes distinguish a foot or a knee and would playfully push against it. The baby, it seemed, enjoyed the game and would push back. At times it felt as if he (for some reason she persisted in thinking of this baby as he) presented his back to her so that she could rub it soothingly as he slumbered in his increasingly cramped quarters.

Sometime during the night Shmi woke up and felt a tightening that began in her back and radiated forward across her belly. It wasn?t painful yet, but was uncomfortable enough to wake her up. She sat up, trying to ease the discomfort by changing her position, but to no avail. Deciding that nothing would be served by fighting the discomfort she stood up and leaned against a wall, letting the widely spaced contractions flow over her in waves. The pain in her back had eased once she had stood up, so she continued to lean against that wall, taking comfort in the solid feel of it against her arms and forehead. The wall felt cool, a welcome relief against her flushed face.

How long she leaned against that wall, she didn?t know. Time no longer seemed to have any business with her; it had dropped her in this void and disappeared. She wished for only two things now, that she had someone to help her and that her baby would be healthy and whole. And so she labored, alone in the dark with only her thoughts and unborn child as companions.

A stealthy scratching at her door made her raise her head. She made her way slowly, so very slowly, to the door and opened it. A stranger stood there, a kindly looking old woman. She was as bent with age as Shmi was with pain, and so the two women looked at each other eye-to-eye, both burdened. The woman reached out a wizened hand, spotted and gnarled, and gently brushed Shmi?s cheek. ?The Force has led me here,? she said, obviously puzzled.

Shmi gave her a tight smile, concentrating on yet another wave of pain. ?Well, no matter who or what led you here, I have need of your help,? she whispered and indicated her burgeoning belly.

?Ah, a little one anxious to make an appearance in this galaxy!? and in her voice Shmi heard something that told her the old woman was no longer puzzled. Her questions had been answered and she now knew what she had wanted to know. ?Come, let?s see where we?re at! You look healthy enough, but it?s not wise to give birth alone. Too many hands needed and you?ll be too busy with your own work to tend to the babe.? Her voice was now crisp and efficient. She gently moved Shmi aside and shuffled into the room.

Shmi looked at her in astonishment for a few moments and then made her way back to wall, seeking its refreshing cooln

 

This is a little plot bunny that came to me when I was reading a bio of Queen Victoria, whose ascension to the throne and long rule was supposedly foretold by a gypsy. This is a different old woman than in the first viggie above. I thought I could just keep all the Shmi viggies on one thread. I wrote it quickly because it just seemed to leap onto the page. Shmi is a favorite character of mine and I've always wondered what raising Anakin might have been like...



He?ll Know Greatness

Shmi wandered the marketplace, looking for bargains to purchase with the few coins she had to her name. Just ahead of her, five year old Anakin happily wandered through the legs of the various species surrounding him. He stopped and pointed to a brightly colored stall, strewn with scarves and baubles that glittered in the suns. He looked back to his mother with a question in his blue eyes.

Shmi smiled and nodded. He grinned and ran toward the stall as fast as his short legs could carry him. He looked back expectantly at his mother, and raised a chubby little hand to beckon her. She laughed. ?I?m coming, Ani! I?m not as fast as you are.?

Anakin smiled, satisfied that she was joining him, and turned to look at the prisms of color now surrounding him. He tried to reach the light beams, laughing when they slipped through his grasp. The lights shone on his face, illuminating it with a variety of colors until the prisms turned once more, leaving his face awash in crimson.

Shmi came into the booth at that moment, and the sight of her son?s face covered in the red light stole her breath away for a moment. She felt a frisson of dread skip along her spine, but then laughed at her own foolishness as the prisms swayed in the slight breeze yet again and Anakin?s face was covered in a sea of blue.

The old woman minding the booth hobbled toward them. She was bent with age and worry but her lined face was currently creased with a wide smile as she considered the little boy looking with wonder at her wares.

?He?s beautiful,? she wheezed.

Shmi smiled and nodded her thanks. Anakin seemed to draw those around him. His bright smile, his easy laughter, and his generous spirit seemed to make beings of all species want to be near him. His face merely seemed to be an added bonus to those drawn to him, his outer beauty being a reflection of the inner goodness that dwelled in the little boy.

?Anakin, say hello to the nice lady,? Shmi instructed him gently.

Anakin turned toward her with a bright smile. Then his smile faltered and he drew closer. He walked up to her and then touched her face with his small fingers. He traced some of the wrinkles lining her face and then pulled back and gave her a shy smile. ?You glow,? he said quietly.

Shmi was startled both at his words and his actions. He seemed far more mature than his peers. This was yet another incident that proved her son was different than the average five year old human child. The old woman, to Shmi?s shock, did not seem surprised at his words or his actions.

She nodded proudly to the little boy and then touched his face just as he had touched hers. ?You glow, too, little one.? She touched his forehead and then breathed deeply. ?You burn with it.?

Anakin closed his eyes under her touch, as if she was a beloved relative and he had nothing to fear. Shmi had long since learned to trust her son?s instincts, young as he was, and let the old woman keep her hands on his face.

Anakin opened his blue eyes and met the faded gaze of the old woman. ?It hurts sometimes,? he whispered.

?It?s very strong in you, boy, very strong. You must learn to leash it and control it.? She nodded solemnly to make sure he realized the import of her words.

Anakin cocked his head to the side and then shook his head. He touched his chest and then brought her gnarled hand to place it over his heart. ?Here?it burns here. Too strong, I?m too small for it right now.? And then he shook himself, as if wondering where the words had come from. In an instant he