TO THE STARS

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A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one, but it wouldn't leave me alone, ha.

Anakin never became a Jedi he stayed on Tatooine.

Reviews/votes are just as good as Anakin's kisses. Enjoy ♡

 Enjoy ♡

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┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

Nights at the Skywalker's homestead were what they looked forward to the most.

The chasm above unveiled billions of stars laced across the velvet black skies. Often, it reminded them of an entire galaxy beyond the dustbowl of Tatooine. Up there they would be free to be anyone they desired. Aspire to dreams long held within their souls. Especially after a particularly grueling day in Wattos junkshop run by their smarmy Toydarian owner.

At night the city was quiet, softened by the golden lights that illuminated the adomed edifices spread across the silicate plains. The way the winds rolled the granule sands was like the first breath before dawn. Nestling in her hair. Brushing back curls of burnished sienna, akin to the undulated crags the twin suns burned down behind.

"What do you think it's like flying up there, in the stars?" The lacquer of her honeyed gaze widened in wonder; a reflection of her spirit as her lips parted in reverence. "It has to be positively beautiful."

A rich, deep voice that had long crescendoed from boyish adolescence answered, "An old spacer once told me, you don't have to accept what you're given." Taut arms forged from technical prowess crossed behind an unruly head of golden curls. "One day, we're going to leave this planet, Kie. I've dreamt it so many times."

"Ever the optimist, Anakin." She sighed, breathing in hints of funnel flower and desert plumb tangling off the winds from the Dune Sea outlined in the horizon. "Kit and Wald have a bet going that you'll become a pilot for the Republic."

Anakin scoffed. Dark azure eyes glimmered with disdain. "Fat chance. Can hardly stand the kriffing poodoos when they do dock."

A soft laugh slipped past her lips as her thumb fiddled nervously with the pocket of her russet pants. "Tell me this is not because one of the captains hit on me."

A low growl resonated in his throat and hinted at jealousy. "Don't remind me. Watto had me sorting scraps for a full cycle. Could hardly see straight after."

"Better than a lashing." she shrugged.

"Yeah, mom wasn't too thrilled." He mumbled almost shamefully.

"She wouldn't even let me come over for two standard days." She could still picture the resilient middle-aged matron. The rigors of work did little to hide those weathered, sharp eyes directed at her son. Hands placed pointedly on the swell of her hips with a clink of mladong bracelets binding her wrists. The usual soft-spoken woman whose dark hair had been pulled back from a severe forehead hardened in reprimanding. Until the storm that was of Shmi Skywalker passed, Kieda had stayed in her own quarters.

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