ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ʙʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ
ɪ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴜꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ

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𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴

For the seventh time in half an hour, Cordelia wondered if she was making a mistake. The worry had yet to set in when she was still back at the compound, when she had levitated two hundred-galleon canisters of water onto a flat-bed truck, when she had climbed in after them and pulled a torn sheet over to conceal herself. She had spent the time from midnight to before dawn, after the humiliation at the Skywalker residence the previous night, watching the changing of the guard and marking their paths, waiting until the trucks were set to leave for a supply run in the nearby town—she hadn't missed her chance.

The short ride across the golden dunes from the Atalian facility to Mos Espa gave her little time to dwell on her actions and the suspicion they would bring, but now, as she held both hands out in line with her shoulders, her elbows locked into her hips to stabilise the progression of the two canisters at her back, worry had made a home in her chest.

As she trudged along the still-vacant streets of the city in the moments before the first sun's rise, the princess began to wonder. What questions would they ask? How could she answer them? How could she explain how a child had moved two tanks of water that easily weighed half a ton? How could she explain how she'd even had access to such a wealth of water? She shook her head; if she moved quickly, they wouldn't be around to ask questions at all. Her only goal now was to help—it was the least she could do for them. Once that task was complete, it didn't matter what happened next.

Turning a corner, she huffed a shaky breath—born of both exertion and fear—as her eyes latched on to the sand-dome residence of the Skywalkers. The yellow glow of phosphorus lighting emitted softly through the open carved windows and Cordelia blinked in surprise as she realised that, in this ungodly hour before dawn, at least one of the pair was already awake.

Shame settled into the hollow beneath her ribs once more, shame at the depth of her ignorance. Not a single critical thought had entered her mind when she had offered him those credits, republic credits in the Outer Rim no less, and she would now be forced to bear the weight of that mistake each time she looked at him. The best she could do, both for him and her own fragile pride, was to leave her gift and then scamper back to the facility before her absence was noted.

She took the last steps to the edge of their door, her arms shaking as she set the crushing weight of the canisters down where they could be seen easily, in the shade of the building next to a stack of messily heaped rakes and shovels—to clear the entry in the event of a sandstorm, she supposed. She paused, her eyes trained on an uneven lining of limestone bricks, as the sound of laughter reached her ears.

Cordelia turned her head to the open window, watching as the tattered drape fluttering in the early morning breeze gave view to the two Skywalkers sitting at the crooked table, a meagre helping of breakfast before them but surrounded by fulfilling joy. Anakin had clearly told a joke that Shmi had attempted, and failed, not to find amusing, and her denial of her son's brazen sense of humour only made them laugh all the more. Shame punctured the young princess' lungs once more; shame, and jealousy.

It was no easy thing to admit she yearned for what they had. Laughter and warmth and loving arms to greet her at every day's end. She yearned for her father's approval and for her sister's smile. She yearned for her mother, a woman she had never known—a woman she had killed. Was she allowed to miss that which was gone because of her? Was it within her right to want that which was never destined for her? The priests and scholars would say no, that this was the fate weaved for her mother by the Moirai and beyond Cordelia's control, and that to deny that fact was to deny the almighty themselves.

But her own heart said differently, and no god had dominion over that. At least, not yet.

She turned to go, content with how much she had tortured herself in the span of thirty seconds, but yelped as the toe of her boot came into harsh contact with the aforementioned cluster of tools. The pile scattered with a loud crash and she shrank, her head jolting to gaze at the open doorway at the same moment that Anakin appeared within it. Their eyes met and she could do nothing but smile sheepishly.

At first, he could only look at her, but his gaze then trailed to the strewn devices and then to the two metallic tanks, glimmering beneath the rising suns. He tracked the condensation that escaped despite the insulation, and his eyes widened and his mouth fell agape. He reached out and ran a finger down the side, his eyes going impossibly wider. He turned to her, "Are those...?"

She couldn't find the words to answer him, so she merely nodded.

"And are they for-"

"You," She answered first. "Yes. I brought them for you and Shmi." She felt the need to speak then, to confirm that this was something she had done for him.

He laughed, a breathy, disbelieving sound, placing his whole palm against the cool metal and then wiping the water across his face. His smile was solar, as bright as the twin suns that would soon blaze across the sky. He turned to her, motionless for a moment, before he swept her into a joustled embrace. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as he shook them both from side to side, not yet strong enough to pick her up and spin her around—but he would be, someday. He promised himself that.

Cori returned his affection after a single unsure moment, her small hands clasping around his back as she hugged him so tightly she thought she might not be able to let go.

"Ani?" She heard Shmi call from within and then saw her poke her head past the threshold a moment later. The same disbelief reflected in her expression as she beheld the sight.

"Mom, look!" Anakin said with a giddy smile. "Look what Cori brought!"

He skipped to one of the containers, trying to lift it up to show the woman but was barely able to move it an inch. He heaved once more, confused by how she had brought them both here if he couldn't even lift one. Shmi watched with quiet eyes, a knowingness in them that worried the young girl slightly.

"Let's all lift together," The mother said, putting their attention elsewhere as the trio lifted each canister up one by one and carried them into the sandstone house. Cori tried not to let the exertion show as they heaved the last one down, lest her ruse be discovered, but she gratefully accepted a glass of water—a full glass—when Shmi offered it.

She turned to see Anakin staring expressionlessly at the containers, his palm pressed against the cold metal. She looked across from her at the table to Shmi, and saw the same vacant eyes, as though this were a dream and both were terrified it would end.

Shmi turned to look at the young girl, who could never truly understand what she had done for them. "Thank you."

Cori could do nothing but nod, her eyes welling with tears at the sheer adoration on the faces of the two Skywalkers. Anakin looked hurriedly at his mother, a giddy excitement in his vibrating limbs. "Mom, you know what this means! We won't have to trade water from Watto for like, a month!"

Shmi laughed, "You know what else it means? We'll have enough spare peggats for you to buy that part you need."

Anakin gasped, his eyes widening and his feet shifting about of their own accord as he let out whoops of joy. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Cori found herself laughing at his reaction, despite having no idea what they were talking about. Anakin spun to face her upon hearing the sound, his elated joy never dimming. "You have to come with me!"

"Where?" She asked, never a moment of refusal.

Anakin grinned as Shmi handed him a small pouch full of clinking coins, "To the market! I found a merchant with a second-hand power convertor they're willing to sell, it's the last part I need for my pod racer!"

"Okay!" She replied, jumping to her feet. She stilled as a weight fell against her back, and she chided herself at having forgotten. "Wait, there's one more thing."

She beckoned Anakin back over, unslinging the rucksack from her back and pulling the drawstrings open so he could look inside. Nestled in the dark interior was a powered-off shuttling droid, designed to bustle moving parts and verbal orders underfoot from one side of the compound to the other. This droid had clearly had a run-in, its conveyor wheels had fallen off-rim and its bodice had been con-caved. That was how she had found it in the early hours of the morning; it was useless now, but she'd decided to take it with her so Anakin could salvage the voice box he needed for his protocol droid.

She relayed this train of thought to her friend, and watched as he lifted the small droid out of the back with a softness to his touch. He smiled at the little thing the way one might smile at a fallen bird, cradling the small creature in your hands and gently placing it back in its nest. He didn't speak a word to her as he placed the little thing on his workbench, but when he smiled at her she found herself smiling back.

He grasped her hand and all but pulled her out the door, and the two set off running with boisterous laughter towards the market.

· : ˚ ☽ ⋆ ♛ ⋆ ☾ ˚ : ·

"Just a bit further," Anakin assured her as he weaved them through the suffocating compactness of the early-morning market; the two children narrowly avoided being crushed several times over, and both breathed a sigh of relief as they finally reached a quieter part of the sector.

"This way," He said, leading them down a narrow street that opened into a wider atrium nestled amongst looming stone walls. She found several vendor stalls littered throughout, each with a colourful tented roof and tables upon tables of mechanical wares, electrical devices, and all other assorted odds and ends she could imagine. She wondered what kind of sales strategy it was to hide your stall in the back end of the market where few thought to look, but quickly realised as she watched scuttle droids scamper back and forth across the sanded floors and astromechs glide about, that this sheltered alcove was the only place suited for the delicately exposed mechanics of the machinery.

Anakin made a beeline for the centre stall, which was attended by a being whose origins she couldn't place.

"Duros!" Anakin exclaimed as he released her hand to grasp the pouch of peggats in his pocket. The creature turned, its dozens of eyes widening in what she assumed—or hoped—was joy. It spoke in a chittering stutter that left her hopelessly confused as to the tone of the conversation, but Anakin seemed to know exactly what was said as he laughed.

"Do you still have that power cell on hold for me? I've got enough to buy it off you now!" He asked, infectious joy in his eyes and his hands that shook with excitement by his sides.

The merchant chippered a reply and reached beneath the bench they stood before, pulling an oil-stained rectangular container out and plopping it onto the counter. He fished a palm-sized cylindrical device out amid the other junk and handed it over to the young boy, who exchanged the majority of the coin pouch in return.

"Is that what you needed?" She asked, sceptical of how small the thing was.

He nodded, but his eyes drifted back to the box once more. "Do you mind if I grab some other stuff too?" He asked the clerk, who seemed to shrug in response.

Anakin forked over another fistful of coins and grabbed a handful of items from the box; a pair of tred wheels, circuitry, and a sheet of some kind of reflective sheet metal. Lastly, he fished a thin braided black cord from the box, a contemplative look in his eyes as he pocketed the items into his rucksack.

He turned to her with a smile and a nod, waving goodbye to the merchant as he reached for her hand again like it was instinct. He led them back up the narrow alley, back into the wide sunlit streets of Mos Espa.

He reached for her hand on instinct as he counted the remaining peggats in his little bag, muttering in Huttese. "Fwanna. K'wanna. Kita. Goba! Yes, I have enough!"

"Enough for what?" She inquired.

"Ruby bliel! Come on, you'll love it!" He began pulling her excitedly across the square, and she laughed following beside him as they ducked and weaved their way to a small pop-up diner beneath the shade of one of Mos Espa's few desert trees.

Anakin squirmed his way up to the counter, slapping the handful of coins onto the bench. "Two ruby bliels, please."

The man serving gave them a sidelong stare but wordlessly took the peggats and slid two opaque cups towards them. Anakin grabbed both and turned back to her, passing one along. She looked quizzically at the frothing red liquid, shimmering beneath the arid sun. She sniffed the brim of the cup, her senses suddenly under assault from the sickly sweet fragrance of the drink. Anakin stared at her from where he'd already finished his, a ring of red residue around his mouth.

He rolled his eyes, tipping the cup towards her lips. "Don't be a baby, just try it."

She stabilised the liquid quickly, before any could spill on her clothes. She shot him a glare but raised the cup to her lips and took a sip. At first, she couldn't quite determine the flavour of the beverage, only that there definitely was one. After a moment, a fizzing began on her tongue and she giggled as the pleasant sweetness overcame her. Anakin was laughing quietly beside her as she downed the rest of the cup, and she just knew it took all of his willpower to refrain from an 'I told you so'.

"What's in that?" She asked with a laugh.

"Ben'do fruit and sirricca sugar," He answered, mimicking an eruption with his hands. "When you put them together, they make a fizzy explosion!"

She laughed as he took the empty cup from her hand and passed them back to the counter, wiping his face of the remnants. "Come on, we should head back home before it gets really busy."

"Why?"

"Because it's like a buffet for pickpockets."

"Ah," She replied lamely, wiping the residue off her own face as followed closely behind her friend as he lead them back through the throngs of the marketplace and back towards the Skywalker residence.

"So," She began as she watched him adjust the rucksack on his back. "Is the extra stuff you bought for your racer too?"

He clasped the nape of his neck sheepishly, "Well, not exactly-"

The ground trembled as a thunderous explosion rocked the marketplace; Anakin threw them both to the ground on instinct, shielding her with his arms as they frantically looked for the source of the chaos. There was a chorus of screams as blaster fire suddenly rang out through the morning air and a lone Devaronian male sprinted through the square, blindly firing shots over his shoulder as he clutched a briefcase to his chest. The shots missed their invisible marks and struck into the crowd; the screams grew louder still as a stray bolt struck a nearby generator which erupted into a plume of ashen smoke and burning flames that stained the pale sky.

Anakin swore in Huttese as he recognised the building the bolt had struck. Cordelia's eyes widened in similar horror as she realised that the shot had taken out all power to the medical centre.

Anakin jumped to his feet and she followed closely behind them as they pushed their way through the scrambling screams of the crowd to reach the spluttering machine, desperately clinging to life as stray sparks escaped through the destroyed mechanism.

Anakin swore again and Cordelia echoed his sentiment as they pried the control panel open and found the inner workings entirely destroyed, wires had been liquified under the heat of the exploding power core and despite her utter lack of mechanical know-how, even the young princess realised there was no salvaging it.

Anakin suddenly looked up, his head angled toward the rear wall of the building as though recalling something. He grasped her hand amid the still-raining chaos and gunfire and pulled her quickly towards the back end of the structure.

"Yes!" Anakin whooped as they found another generator nestled in the corner of the adjacent walls; likely a backup for this very situation.

The young boy unclipped the faceplate of the control board with a triumphant grin, but his once elated expression fell to the opposite extreme as they beheld what lay within—or rather, what didn't. "No!"

"What is it?" She asked, crouching close to his side so she could see what he was looking at. A gaping cylindrical hole lay in the centre, a power source of some kind was seemingly absent.

"I guess that's why it didn't take over when the main one broke." She murmured, eyes flickering over her shoulder to ensure they weren't in harm's way.

Anakin didn't answer her as he pondered, his fingers tapping a senseless rhythm on the casing of the generator. She watched him as he thought, a thousand flashes dancing across his eyes like lightning over the desert sand. She couldn't even begin to understand the thoughts that were occurring to him as he stared at the broken metal husk before them, the rapid fire of synapses that governed all that he was.

"Anakin," She said softly, "Can you fix it?"

A loud crash, the sound of a merchant's stall being destroyed in the warpath behind them, startled him back to the present and he rubbed his eyes with his oil-stained fingers. "I- I think so, but..."

He trailed off, his eyes straying to the discarded rucksack lying between them that held their haul. He bit his lip until the skin turned white, until it almost drew blood—if an altar were anywhere to be found, perhaps she could have prayed to her gods for the lives at stake, perhaps blood could have appeased them. But the only god to be found was in the heart of an eleven-year-old boy, and the deft assurance in his hands as he took his hard-won prize—the power cell he had coveted for his own dreams—and began fashioning it to power the hospital generator.

Her eyes widened, "Anakin-"

"I know," He said, eyes narrowed in concentration as he maneuvered the sparking wires around the cell. "It's the only way."

"But you need it." She trailed, heart sinking.

He sighed, falling back onto the sand as the generator spluttered and whirled precariously for a moment before flaring to life with an electrical hum. "They need it more."

· : ˚ ☽ ⋆ ♛ ⋆ ☾ ˚ : ·

It was a sombre path back to the Skywalker residence, Anakin's mind awhirl with thoughts that he kept wholly to himself, leaving Cordelia to walk silently beside him. Shmi was waiting for them in the doorway, her calloused palm going to her heart in relief as she saw them appear like wandering ghosts on the horizon.

"Children," She cried, rushing forward to envelop them both in her arms as they reached the edge of the property. Cori returned the older woman's hug, but Anakin remained silently in his mind.

"I heard the explosion, I was worried something terrible had happened."

"We're alright," Cordelia soothed the mother, explaining. "There was a scuffle of some sort, the generator for the hospital was destroyed but Anakin managed to repair the backup."

"Oh goodness," Shmi said as the trio migrated inside. "How?"

"With the power cell," Anakin mumbled, plonking down at the dining table.

"Oh, Ani..." Shmi murmured, understanding in an instant. "I'm sorry, my love."

"S'okay," He replied glumly, his brittle, dirt-flecked fingernails tracing lines on the worn table. "Just means we gotta go back to plan B."

"Ani," The woman said, a sharp edge to her tone that made Cordelia's head turn in confusion.

"I have to, Ma." Anakin pleaded. "You heard what Watto said, what he'll do if i don't win that race."

"The race won't matter if you aren't alive to see it, Ani." Shmi shot back, her hands balled up in the skirt of her grey dress.

"It's not a big deal, I've gone further." He argued, evident he'd already made up his mind.

"Um," Cori interrupted, her hand meekly raised to their attention. "What's going on?"

Anakin's eyes flickered to hers, before returning to the pattern at his finger. Shmi sighed, looking to the young girl with sad eyes. "Our master, Watto, has placed a large wager on the upcoming pod race this weekend and has promise... unpleasant consequences if Ani doesn't win."

"And I would win," Anakin interjected, a fire in his eyes. " 'Cept Sebulba always cheats somehow and the only way to get ahead of that is with some serious upgrades to my pod. Upgrades that need a power cell."

"A power cell like the one you just gave away." She asked, already knowing the answer but feeling the need to make sure she fully understood the situation. A part of her wanted to offer to just outright buy another, but it was like Anakin had said—her credits were worth nothing on Tatooine.

"Yeah," he answered. "But I know where another one is, and I should be able to get it before the race."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem," Shmi said sharply, cutting Anakin off before he could answer himself. "Is that the power cell is at a trading outpost that is two days away—two days there, and two days back."

"Which isn't in time for the race." Cordelia realised.

"Only if you take the trade route," Anakin muttered. Shmi shot him a harsh glare, her lips pursed in a hard line, worry creasing her brow.

Cordelia looked between them in confusion, "Is there another route?"

"Yeah," Anakin replied slowly, watching his mum to see if she'd interrupt again. "It's a straight shot to the outpost, a day and a half there and back. The problem is that it goes through Tusken Raider territory."

"Oh," She said lamely, her mind whirling with what she knew of the desert species. They were nomads, residing in tribes that rarely interacted. They were viciously protective of their territory and detested all outsiders, regarding them as trespassers on Tatooine as a whole. It would be a dangerous trip, no doubt, if the quickest route was directly through their land.

"And you're certain there's no other way?"

"Nothing I can think of," Anakin shrugged. Shmi, for all her worry and protest, didn't seem to have another solution either.

Cordelia met her friend's eyes. "I'm coming with you."

Anakin blinked. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"No."

"Yes."

"Alright," Shmi halted their squabble. Her eyes were soft and wide as she looked between them, contemplating quietly. "Perhaps, it would be best if you didn't go alone, Ani."

"Mum!" Anakin protested. "It's dangerous, she could get hurt-"

"So could you," Shmi said sternly, stopping Cordelia from rebuking that she was far from helpless when it came to protecting herself. "Which is why it would make me feel much better if there were two of you, looking out for one another so neither of you gets hurt."

Anakin huffed, seemingly wanting to argue but was speechless in the face of his mother's worry. He sighed, looking up to meet the smug green eyes of his friend as she simply whispered, "Yes way."

author's note:

wassup

I've been sitting on this chapter, unable to write the last few paragraphs for ages and now that it's finally bloody done, it feels wrong to hold onto it any longer (even tho nothing else is written) so here we are!

we're finally getting into some of the action that these two literal children are capable of getting into, instead of the sad existential crisis that both of them go through on a daily basis - don't worry the crisis will still be there, but now there are explosions going on too.

as for the beans themselves, we're starting to see the basis of a friendship that acts as an escape from their respective shitty lives and how that safety they created for each other as children stays with them the rest of their lives which is fun.

anyways, i can't think of anything else to say so let me know what you thought and i'll see you (hopefully) soon <3