Chapter 1: In which we learn about Anakin and Padmé, and the reasons that made them run away.

Anakin

The boy was only eighteen, yet he was taller than any other man in that room. He was handsome, too, oh so very much! Though no one besides his mother had ever told him that, so maybe he was unaware of the fact. And as a slave, Anakin Skywalker hadn't ever the chance to even look at himself in a mirror. And living on Tatooine, the chance of seeing a lake or a sea was more than unlikely, I may say impossible, if I wasn't afraid of Master Yoda's cane.

Every day he, Anakin, would wake up, annoyed at the sight in front of him: An ocean of bright, hot, yellow sand. Course and rough, he hated it.

He hated it like he hated having to slave away for a piece of scum they called Watto. He hated Watto as he hated the fact that his youth and whole life were passing him by.

But he didn't hate all those things as much as he hated another fact:

Like himself, his mother Shmi Skywalker was also a slave.

He couldn't stand it.

Watching her being mistreated, knowing she wasn't free. While he couldn't do anything about it. For the moment at least. He knew they weren't going to die as slaves. One day he would not only set his mother free, but himself, and every other slave.

No one deserved such horrible fate.

He was sure, even though he had never had it, that freedom was the single greatest thing in the world.

And he WOULD make sure everyone in his and every world could obtain it. And for those who took other people's freedom away… Anakin believed they deserved punishment.

It is probably obvious at this point that there were many dark feelings in the young man. Indeed, hate was something he was very well familiar with, but it certainly wasn't all there was to young Anakin Skywalker.

He had a great heart, and as it can also be noticed, a sense of heroism, though it was mostly still sleeping. But it would not only awake one day, it would snap! Shmi was sure of it, and she prayed she wouldn't be the cause of it. Which of course, she was.

Shmi's obligations weren't as terrible as the ones the slaves who spent their days under the suns; she mostly cleaned and cooked for Watto; and the slaver, as low as he was, could manage to treat her almost like a human being.

But on the day in which our adventure begins, he was being very short on her. Yelling at her, pushing her, overall treating her like a naughty child, when the woman was on her way to her fifties.

Anakin's blood was boiling as he saw such treatment; he tried with all his might to ignore the remarks, but his mother's sad face was paining him to no end. Watching her sweet eyes being crowded with tears broke him, he couldn't stay quiet anymore.

"She's doing the best she can!" Young Anakin cried. "Would you get off her back already!"

His loud tone of defiance as well as his words angered his master.

Watto flew to his side, standing right in his face. He simply laughed and reminded Anakin that his mother was his property, and he couldn't say anything about it.

Anakin agreed. There was not much he could say about it—nothing that he could in front of his mother—but there was one thing he could do. Punch the slaver in the face.

If it was that easy, why didn't he do that before, you might wonder?

Well, it can be said Anakin was a slow learner.

But let's cut the boy some slack. From birth he had been raised to obey, to keep his head down and his mouth shut. As a little boy they had tried to break his brave spirit, and they might have succeeded, if it weren't for the great love he felt for his dear mother. He wouldn't stand watch her being hurt, now that he was so grown up and strong.

Padmé

The young girl who stood before Prince Rush Clovis had many titles. The ones I can remember go like this: Princess Padmé Naberrie Amidala, Daughter of Naboo, Child of the Republic. I think those are all, I'm probably wrong.

But to the story-

In Tatooine, where this tale will unfold, she was simply known as Princess Naberrie, but since I don't like formalities, most of the time I will call her Padmé. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. She was very humble and sweet… Rush Clovis probably didn't think so, though…

Padmé had —at the same time Anakin was giving Watto a much deserved punch in the face— her big chocolate brown eyes set on the young prince. I say young because he didn't have any wrinkles, but he was Padmé's senior for about a decade, which she found very repulsive. Padmé was seven days away from turning eighteen.

And she had been brought to Tatooine, very much against her will, to find a husband.

Clovis was the tenth Prince she had seen that day, and you can be sure, he was the least lucky.

The fact that he was rejected was the least of Clovis's problems, as the teen princess had a blaster pointing at his dark face.

"Calm down, child!" Clovis cried in fear as he saw Padmé almost shoot at him.

As I explain why his words only angered her even more, you might learn something, People-Who-Call-Girls and Women-Child-Even-When-They-Are-Far-From-It.

We hate it.

Why? I'm not sure it's the same for everyone, but in my experience, it makes us feel small, unimportant, weaker somehow. And it hurts, especially if the person calling us that is a boy we like. You call a girl you like "child" and you make her feel like you're not and will not take her seriously. Again, maybe it's just me; don't trust me too much on it.

Well, like me, Padmé felt offended when Rush Clovis called her a child. He murdered the small chance he ever had of winning her heart. Instantly she knew they weren't equals, and those who aren't equals can't love each other.

"If you want to live," Padmé said, narrowing her beautiful eyes, lowering the hand that was holding the weapon. "Get out. Immediately."

"Princess Naberrie," he said, formally. Not wanting to give up just yet. "Please let me start over."

She sat on the Balcony of her personal room in the Palace, looking out at Tatooine's hot day, waiting for some air to play with her hair. Such air didn't come, and a few drops of sweat actually came to show on her forehead. Clovis got a little closer; she almost pointed her weapon at him again, but stopped when she noticed what he wanted to do. He offered her a handkerchief, with a smile that was actually kind and adoring.

She couldn't help a smile and accepted his gift.

"Thank you," she said, more softly.

He sat next to her, immediately taking advantage of the bit of trust she had giving him. He laid his hand on her shoulder and then, before she could react, his arms had found her waist.

"What are you..?!" she choked on her words as her astonishment and anger possessed her.

"My sweet child," he said, speaking at her ear, trying to seduce her. "I am not the fool you're trying to make of me."

She desperately wanted to prove that he was.

She tried to use the blaster but in her shock she had dropped it on the floor, and he had kicked it far from them.

"I've come a long way for a sweet and beautiful princess!" Clovis cried without releasing her from his grasp. "There is no sweetness in you, Young Amidala! But enough beauty to compensate for your lack of anything else!"

"Ah—arr!" she tried to say.

"What?" he laughed in her face.

"Artoo!" she finally cried.

Before Haughty Rush Clovis could inquire as to what that could mean, a little blue droid appeared behind his feet, releasing a number of angry beeps, then some quantity of fire on Clovis's lean leg.

The Prince immediately let go of Padmé, screaming in pain and fury. Before he could do anything else to her, R2-D2, Padmé's favorite droid for all the good reasons, chased Clovis around the room, in a persecution that Padmé found very amusing, making her laugh louder than she had in all the time she had spent on Tatooine.

From outside the room, a number of people, royalty and guards, heard Clovis's screams, which prompted them to break in, still fearing to interrupt the princess and her suitor.

"Oh, Force!" Sola Naberrie, a slightly older princess of Naboo and Padmé's sister cried in bewilderment.

"Padmé!" Ruwee Naberrie, the King of Naboo and Padmé's father cried, surprised while at the same time not so much.

"What?" Padmé asked, casually, holding back her previous laughter.

"Artoo, stop it!" Ruwee cried, unwilling to believe the droid kept chasing the Prince even when they were all watching.

The droid finally let the Prince alone, and at last also, Clovis stopped screaming.

Ruwee approached him with an apologetic look on his face. "Your Majesty," he said, slowly, very much embarrassed. "I'm so sorry! Are you alright? I'll call immediately for…"

"Listen!" Rush interrupted. He gazed angrily at Padmé's father and pointed his finger at him. "Your daughter," his words had too much scorn in them. "Is as much of a pain as she is beautiful! She's an absolute brat. Childish. Selfish. Annoying. You will never marry her, hear me well! Never will any worthy man love such a creature! You've traveled from Naboo in vain! There's no fool in the galaxy stupid enough to put up with such a girl!"

His words were starting to hurt Padmé but she tried to conceal it.

"Now wait a minute!" Ruwee tried to keep him from insulting his youngest daughter but Clovis was vent on spilling every last drop of his venom.

"I could've loved you," Rush now gazed at Padmé. "If only you were a woman. Stupid, silly child!"

"I know I lose nothing as you go!" Padmé cried, unable of keeping quiet any longer after being so insulted. "You are not the only prince in the galaxy—"

"But what will you do when they run out?" he snapped. "Do you think I am ignorant enough to not know I'm like the twentieth you've met since your seventeenth birthday?"

She turned crimson against her will. "Hey! I have not seen twenty…" she shut up as she remembered she had seen a lot more.

"Hear me out, Princess," Rush approached her, invading her personal space again, though as they weren't alone she was spared from feeling his breath close to her again. "You will never, EVER, find love. Good bye!"

Prince Rush Clovis stormed out.

There was a long moment of silence.

Sola was the first to try to break the awkwardness. "He wasn't even that cute," she said, trying to make her sister feel better. "You are better off without him. We all are."

Padmé had her head down.

"Really, my dear, don't let him affect you," Sola insisted. "Of course you're going to find love!"

"It's easy for you to say," Padmé tried hard to not sniff. "You're already married!"

The princess' father approached both, looking sad. "Padmé, you will have a husband," he stated, in a tone that neither girl liked. "My dear, we cannot wait much longer… Prince Rush Clovis was our last hope!"

"Father!" both girls cried.

"Padmé, you must be married by your eighteen birthday. It's a law!"

"A very stupid law!" Padmé fought.

"A law nonetheless," the King of Naboo said. "Forgive me, but I gave you enough time to find a man of your choice. I brought every eligible Prince in the galaxy and you refused and scared every single one! My poor Princess! I must choose a husband for you now."

Padmé instantly shook her head, tears crowding in her eyes, her face turning purple as she tried to hold them back. "You can't! Oh, father, you wouldn't!"

"I have to," he stated, clearly hating himself as he spoke.

"But, who?" Padmé asked with fear.

"You mustn't refuse," he said. "As a princess, you have obligations that come with all your privileges. You must obey. Oh don't challenge me, please!"

"Father, to whom are you planning on giving me?"

The man stepped back, trembling, unable to face his young daughter as he answered:

"I have three royals who had offered to marry you. I refused them before because I wanted to give you the chance to choose a prince of your liking. I know they'd fly to Naboo and marry you in a heartbeat, without even a second thought."

"Who are they?!" Padmé demanded, all patience she had departing her.

"The first," he said, reluctantly and ashamed. "Is the middle son of the King of Coruscant: Palo of Coruscant. I don't think you've met him. He's close to your age, an artist, and according to some females, handsome enough."

"He has a reputation of being a womanizer," Sola said causing Padmé to instantly dislike him.

"Sola," Ruwee said. "Shut up." He then went on. "Then there's the Archduke of our Home of Naboo. You know, you're mother's brother in law..."

"Eww!" Padmé and Sola exclaimed.

"Sheev Palpatine?" Padmé was shocked. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"And why not? You're not related by blood. You've known him all your life…"

"He's old enough to have lived like five of my lives!"

"Padmé." He pleaded. "He's a nice man."

"I hate him!"

"Since when?"

"The last twenty seconds in which he had the chance of being my husband!"

"The last one," Ruwee said tiredly, never sounding more afraid and reluctant than at that moment, "is the current Lord of Tatooine. The owner of the Palace in which we are right now."

Padmé almost passed out. Then she felt like throwing up. "You hate me," she said, almost out of breath. "Or you're kidding? Father, Jabba the Hutt? I'd rather be thrown in jail for breaking the law! I'd rather die! Or kill! Or even Clovis…"

"Really?"

"No," she quickly fixed her exaggeration "I just… I just don't want to marry. No one! I like how I am right now. I don't see why I have to change it!"

"It's the law—"

"I don't want to hear! I want to go home! I want to see mother! If she knew what you're planning—or only she heard your suggestions, she would kill you!"

"Your mother understands the law. Or if she doesn't, she at least follows it."

"Get out of my room!" she couldn't help her bitter tears even when they embarrassed her. "Everyone! Out! I want to be alone! Leave, leave!"

Sola, Ruwee and the guards obeyed her.

When Ruwee was by the door, he quietly said, "If you don't make a choice, I'll be forced to do it for you. Padmé, one way or another, you'll be getting married in seven days. Accept it, darling. I hope one day you can forgive me," he sighed, saw his weeping daughter, and left.

Anakin

He felt the hot sand under his running feet, the strong twin suns that burned on his tanned skin, and he did nothing but run as he heard his mother's pleading cries: "Run, Ani! Run and don't look back!" she looked behind Watto's shoulders, as her son ran to freedom.

Padmé

"I love you, Artoo," Padmé said as she kissed the top of the blue droid's head, shedding a tear of relief as much as of fear. She bided him goodbye, waving her white hand as she stood from the balcony.

"Careful, Artoo!" she whispered and thought maybe the droid couldn't hear her. He was helping her out of the Palace, giving her a metal string from which she was hanging. She trembled, fearing the great height but very much determinate. She breathed out in relief when she could feel the floor. From outside. Moons of Naboo, it worked! She was actually out! She ran to freedom.

The twin suns had hidden, night had come in Tatooine, and Anakin and Padmé both ran, finding strange happiness amidst fear, unaware of their future meeting.