Chapter Text
Anakin was born and bred a slave.
His mother had been one all her life, after all, and Anakin was resigned to the same fate as well. In all his eight years, he had known only a few constants — hunger, exhaustion and sand. There had never been a day where his belly was ever really full or when he could take an hour for a nap when he felt his limbs slacken or his eyelids flutter. And there had never been a day where Anakin did not feel utter contempt at the feeling of scorching, coarse sand. It was everywhere. Stuck to his toes, in his eyes when the wind blew, in his mouth when he tripped and fell. On some nights, he swore he felt it within his bed.
But he knew that despite it all, his life could have been much worse.
His master wasn’t the worst one out there, not by a long shot. Watto was a lot of things, manipulative, selfish and just a pain to be around, but sometimes on days when Anakin was particularly fast with his jobs, he’d let him go back home sooner to his mother and that was something he could not be faulted for. Working for Watto wasn’t too bad, Anakin enjoyed it a lot more than working for his previous master, and their house was far nicer too. So as much as he liked to complain to himself, he was careful not to in front of Watto, only allowing himself to slip a few innocent jokes which, for the most part, went over Watto’s head anyway.
Every evening, after spending the day gruelling in Watto’s workshop, Anakin would scurry through the sand-laden streets back home. He’d barge through the entrance and run through the small kitchen into the arms of his mother. And he would clutch onto her and feel as though he could make it. Make it through another day, listen to Watto while he fluttered his little wings above Anakin as the child did all the jobs he didn’t want to bother with, eat another filling of whatever bland and unsatisfying bowl of the closest thing to food his mother could provide. His mother made it feel as though he could make it through another day of almost anything.
She was his reason for going on, and he knew that he was hers too. There had never been anyone but them both, no other family. No father. No one but them and he was content with that too.
So one night, after another bowl of food which just tempered his appetite enough that his stomach would silence itself for a little while, Anakin climbed into his bed. His day had been the same as the last, and the one before that too and his young bones felt a little sore. It took little for him to fall asleep and when he did, he was thrust into another life entirely.
It was as though that first night, she had exploded into his dreams like a supernova. A beacon calling to him. And follow he did. Whatever dream he was having, Anakin was completely enamoured. He found himself in a single room, far larger than the entirety of his hut and placed somewhere other than Tatooine if the lush greenery he could peak from just outside the open pillars were anything to go by.
But it wasn’t the extravagance of the room, with his tall ceilings decorated in painted flowers or the finery of the chairs and tables that caught his eye. It was the little baby girl wrapped in a soft pink blanket, her eyes closed and held in the arms of someone whose face was blurred. But the way the woman — for the long hair and gentle humming, he knew it was a woman — held the baby and comforted her, he knew instinctively it was her mother. He stumbled closer, his bare, dirty feet ghosting across the floor and he cringed for a moment, turning back to see the dirty prints left behind in his wake only to see none. Still, he tiptoed the rest of the way, careful as he approached the woman and her bundled baby and when, after a few moments, was not screamed at, leaned over the woman’s shoulder to take a look at the baby girl.
She was a pink thing, he noted, with chubby cheeks and long eyelashes. But the feature that stood out the most was the tufts of pure white hair that grew from her scalp. White hair on a human was incredibly rare, and Anakin had never seen one before so his curiosity was great as he leaned in even further. It was then, though, that the baby girl opened her eyes and he was struck with a brilliant gold and the suddenness of it all was enough to startle him backward.
As though she sensed him, the baby wailed and Anakin cringed further backing away before the mother shushed the baby.
“Shh little Sitara. My little star, there is nothing in the universe that could ever hurt you. Not while I’m here with you.”
When Anakin woke the next morning, he felt as though the entire world had shifted on itself. He woke up energetically before his mother could shake him awake as usual and instead startled her in the kitchen. His usual breakfast suddenly tasted far better than it ever had and he happily walked into Watto’s shop and did his work humming the same tune he had heard in his dreams the night before.
His mother was a little confused by his sudden desire to head to bed early that night but didn’t question it as he lay in bed and she kissed his forehead. He had been excited all day, determined for the day to move faster so he could return to his dream only for anxiety to creep in now he was so close.
What if he didn’t dream of her tonight? What if he didn’t dream at all? Anakin had never dreamt before last night, so perhaps that had been an accident, a fluke. Maybe he’d never dream again.
The idea of it settled into his stomach and sleep came hard that night. But eventually, his eyes fluttered closed and a moment later, he was there again, in the same room as before. This time, there was no woman and for a moment, he thought the baby was gone too. But then he saw her, a glimpse of white flashing across the sunlight, and the baby was in a crib across the room.
He stepped to her, as he did last time but she did not stir from her sleep. Whatever she was dreaming of, it caused the smallest giggles to erupt from her mouth and Anakin couldn’t help but smile.
He stayed there for the rest of his dream, watching her throughout the day as she woke and was fed and played with, all until she fell asleep again. Each night, Anakin would fall asleep and be transported into her world, Sitara’s. Each night, he dreamt of her life, of how her day had transpired and each morning when he awoke, he was rejuvenated, happy in his life.
For the next year, Anakin watched as she grew. She turned a year old and managed to stand on chubby legs and then, eventually, take her first steps. He learned early on that he had no influence in her life, he only saw what she saw, and lived in his dreams as she did during the day. He felt the love she felt too. Saw it in the way her mother sang to her and her father held her.
Anakin, too, grew some more. He was still one of the shorter children of his group of friends but still, an inch or two had been added to his height in the past year. His secret project was well underway now too, C-3PO, as he had named the droid, could not only be a great help to his mother who desperately needed it but could be his ticket off of this sand pit of a planet and just maybe, one step closer to Sitara.
But then one day, long after his ninth birthday, Anakin’s world shifted once again.
Padme, that was her name. First, a handmaiden, then a queen but an angel always. And though she was five years older, and they were both still children, Anakin knew she would be the one he would follow anywhere.
They parted ways, Padme returning to Naboo and him on his own path to becoming a Jedi. In the ten years during his training, he continued to dream and watched as he and Sitara grew more. He became a fighter, a warrior. His power in the light of the Force grew incredibly strong and his bond with the girl in his dreams only grew stronger too. He saw her days go by, saw as her hair grew so long that it passed her hips and when she ran around her palace, it flew behind her in a shocking white. They were neither who they were when he first dreamt of her though he still wondered if one day he’d find her in person.
And then he and Padme were reunited again and the love he felt only grew tenfold and the girl in his dreams slowly faded in his waking hours. The day Padme told him she loved him, Anakin could scarcely remember his dream that night. He knew he still saw Sitara, for the night belonged to her, and he could still feel the remnants of his dreams even if he could not remember them.
But when he and Padme married, that longing he felt to find that girl no longer lingered the way it did.
When Padme told him she was pregnant, that girl became barely an afterthought. His world had found its new axis and it was no longer Sitara.
And then his dreams shifted to something horrible, and he felt himself slipping through the cracks in his quest to save his wife, damning everyone instead. He lost Padme, his children, and the closest person he had to a brother.
There was no more axis, no more world. No longer did he dream of that little girl with the white hair. No longer did he dream at all.
Anakin was dead.