But for now, I'll have to rely on other methods, namely writing and editing something... well, maybe not exuberantly happy exactly, but at least not depressing. So - Shmi and young Owen, before Shmi's manumission.
Title: Shmi's Sons
Fandom: Star Wars (Disclaimer)
Categories: Gen, PG
Word Count: 480
Summary: Owen isn't Anakin, but he's still a special boy.
Owen isn't Anakin.
Shmi sees the differences every time he and Cliegg come to Watto's shop. Once Owen tells her that riding too quickly on his speeder scares him, and she thinks of Anakin beaming as he flies across the finish line in the fastest pod ever built. Owen doesn't have such fire. But it isn't fair to Owen to compare them that way. She thinks, too, that Cliegg will never have to fear seeing Owen lose control and smash against a canyon wall, or hearing that he's been hurt in some distant, unfathomable fight - but it isn't any more fair to Anakin to compare them that way.
Mostly, though, she thinks that Owen could be Anakin's brother, if Anakin had a brother. Sometimes when he turns just so, she sees Anakin's sandy hair, his bright eyes. When Owen tells Shmi earnestly that he's courting a girl named Beru Whitesun and plans to marry her as soon as it's financially possible (though he expects that won't be for some years), she hears Anakin saying that the outlander girl is the most beautiful girl in the universe and he's going to marry her someday. They would probably baffle each other, Owen being practical where Anakin is a dreamer, but she's sure they would love each other too.
One day Owen walks into the shop alone. Her heart lifts seeing him, but she's surprised - he's never come without Cliegg. Owen explains that he and his father have split up to search all the junk dealers more quickly. "He'll be by later," he assures her. "He has something he wants to ask you about."
"I don't like you being a slave," Owen says suddenly after Watto's gone to check the back lot. "It isn't right."
Owen's face still has some of its baby softness, and the familiar stubborn set of his jaw makes Shmi's heart ache. "You dear boy," she says, touching his hand.
He draws back and looks at the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude in your private affairs."
"You have nothing to be sorry about. It's just that you remind me of my son."
Owen's eyes lift slightly, lashes quivering. He opens his mouth, apparently lost for words. "I do?" he manages.
She smiles at him. "You're both children any mother would be proud to call her own."
Owen's cheeks flush at that, but Shmi thinks she sees a smile on the corners of his lips too. "That... means a lot to me. I hardly remember my mother, you know," he says. "But I imagine she was a lot like you." He stops, flushing redder and looking down again. "I should go. My father will be waiting." He hurries toward the door, no doubt flustered by his spontaneous declaration.
Owen isn't Anakin. But Shmi means what she said - she would be proud to call them both her sons.