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❝𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰? ❞

❝𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯. ❞

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»»-----------►Ｆｏｒｃｅ

𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 a boy of many talents, and those talents often involved accidentally cutting himself on a sharp tool or a piece of metal.

At that moment, the little boy sat on his hovel's balcony, his arm outstretched in front of him, dark red blood seeping down his tan upper limb.

Like many other incidents, Anakin Skywalker had cut himself on accident after messing around with his pod out in his backyard.

Unlike his many escapades with cuts and bruises, the boy actually had someone other than his mother who offered to graciously help clean and disinfect his superficial wounds.

Qui-Gon Jinn sat across from the young Skywalker, attempting to wipe the blood from Anakin's cut, but the boy was not interested in anything to do with his wound, only the millions of stars in the galaxy above him.

He thought that they were beautiful, but nothing compared to Clarissé's beauty in his eyes. He thought she was the most beautiful thing in this whole galaxy. Somehow he knew that Clarissé would love to be out there with him, star gazing and talking about anything on her mind, but Padmé had pulled her outside before she even got the chance to accept the young boy's offer of going outside with him.

Something political was happening back on the Nubian yacht with the queen, and apparently Clarissé was specifically demanded to deal with it.

Anakin didn't understand it, and he probably never would.

And so the young boy sat, without his lovely Clarissé by his side, the empty spot next to him never feeling as empty as it was now.

The young boy still continued to crane his neck upwards, his bright eyes bulging as he looked at the sky, and all the galaxy's mysteries hidden somewhere deep in between the dark folds.

"Stay still, Ani," Qui-Gon reprimanded at the young boy's constant squirming, his body twisting back and forth with his head still up towards the sky, "Let me clean this cut."

"There are so many!" Anakin exclaimed at the dozens of planets and stars surrounding the two of them, "Do they all have a system of planets?"

I wish you could see this, Clarissé. You'd love it.

"Most of them," Qui-Gon replied with a slight smile on his weathered face as he examined Anakin's cut closely.

"Has anyone been to them all?" The young slave questioned innocently, his head tilting in a way that looked eerily similar to a certain green eyed girl.

Qui-Gon chuckled deeply at the question, his baritone voice booming softly across the balcony of the small hovel.

"Not likely."

The boy smiled at the thought, determined to prove it horribly wrong.

"I want to be the first to see them all... and I'd take Clarissé with me in a heartbeat," the young boy confessed as he dreamily imaged him and the young brunette on a dozen adventures around the galaxy, taking it by complete storm, "I'm going to marry her someday. I'm gonna make her my wife, and we're gonna have dozens of little girls, and maybe a little boy or two, since she wants a boy. That's my dream. To be with Clarissé forever. I never want to be without her."

Qui-Gon frowned in pure curiosity, wondering how in Force this little boy could fall in love with one little girl in a day.

Love did work in mysterious ways, after all.

Just like the Force.

After a moment, the Jedi began to smirk lightly, noticing how perfect the two were for each other, just through the wonderful ways of the Force alone.

But they could never be together, if Anakin were as special as Qui-Gon thought.

Anakin, from Qui-Gon's perspective, was a very powerful Force sensitive, perhaps even the strongest the older Jedi's saw. Anakin Skywalker was most likely the Chosen One. The one to bring balance to the light and dark side of the Force. Anakin would immediately be brought into the Jedi Temple to be trained. Once he became a Jedi Knight, attachments, therefore love, would no longer be allowed.

Qui-Gon didn't personally agree with the attachment rule, but he had to obey it to be apart of the Jedi Order.

Qui-Gon didn't know if he had the heart to separate the two younglings.

Something in the older Jedi told him that there would be a great disturbance in the Force if he did so.

"What do you like most about her?" The man couldn't help himself from asking, his tone overall holding a supportive tone to it as the two talked about their favorite curious little girl with otherworldly green eyes.

Anakin gave a lovesick sigh as he confessed, "I either can't decide what I like the most about her, or if I like everything. Besides, what's not to like? She's practically perfect, Mister Qui-Gon. Everything about her makes me smile, or laugh. Her green eyes hold an entire galaxy in them, Sir. A galaxy I never want to leave."

Qui-Gon chuckled slightly at the boy, still cleaning the minimal cut on his tiny arm.

What a romantic. Even at the young age of nine years old.

"You sound like you're in love, Anakin," Qui-Gon teased lightly, smirking knowingly as he did so.

Anakin sighed once more, daydreaming about the young Queen of Naboo once more.

"Maybe I am, Sir," the slave boy mumbled lovingly, his thoughts drifting off to Clarissé for the tenth time alone that hour.

"Ani," the motherly voice of Shmi Skywalker carried over to the balcony, "bedtime!"

Anakin quickly stood up from his spot on the balcony, not wanting to disappoint his beloved mother, but he soon stopped right in his tracks as he felt a small needle prick his tender, sensitive skin.

"Ouch..." he whispered, putting his arm up to his face and lightly blowing on it to relieve him of the small sting on his arm.

Qui-Gon took a clean handkerchief from his Jedi robes, holding it up to the small bead of blood and patting it dry, doing it as gently as he could.

"There we are..." the older Jedi trailed off, looking at the blood sample with a satisfied grin upon his face, "good as new."

"Ani!" Shmi started to get anxious and frustrated at her nine year old son who still had a slight grin on his face due to his constant thoughts of Clarissé Amidala-Naberrie, "I'm not going to tell you again!"

Qui-Gon didn't pay much attention to the motherly warning as he continued to scrap the dried blood on Anakin's arm onto a small comlink chip.

"What are you doing?" The little boy asked with slight interest, his thoughts still at a very kind young girl.

"Checking your blood for infections," the Jedi answered, creating the answer out of thin air.

It was silent for a moment before Qui-Gon bid, "You have a big day tomorrow... Goodnight."

Anakin smiled, before hopping off the balcony and running into his home, with the intention of going to sleep, no doubt dreaming about Clarissé.

After the boy had left, Qui-Gon pulled out his comlink and immediately called his apprentice, determined to find out just how special Anakin Skywalker truly was.

"Obi-Wan..." the Jedi Master trailed off, his voice holding a question in them.

"Yes, Master?" The ambitious young Padawan asked, hoping to help his Master in anyway possible.

"I need an analysis of this blood sample I'm sending you."

Obi-Wan was clearly confused at this as he trailed, "Wait a minute..."

"I need a mid-chlorian count," the Jedi specified, confirming what Obi-Wan was thinking.

A moment passed before Obi-Wan excitedly exclaimed, "The reading's off the chart! Over twenty thousand. Even Master Yoda doesn't have a mid-chlorian count that high!"

"No Jedi has..." Qui-Gon whispered, his mind whirling at the results he was hoping to get.

"What does that mean, Master?" The faithful apprentice asked, his head also spinning with the new record for highest mid-chlorian count.

"I'm not sure..." the apprentice's master mumbled. The man truly did not know what it meant, but he had a great idea of what it could mean.

The older Jedi shut off his comlink, ending the call with Obi-Wan.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating what to do with this turn of events.

How will I explain this to Anakin? I don't want him to panic. And how will I explain to him that Clarissé and him can never be together again. I can't scare him away. The Jedi Order will need him if we are to succeed in taking out all the Sith.

Qui-Gon soon felt a presence enter the balcony. They were female, he could tell, and she was very timid to fully make herself known, instead attempting to stay by the doorway so she could quickly duck back in if the older Jedi suspected she was watching him.

Shmi Skywalker, the mother of the supposed Chosen One, stood in her hovel, her hair peeking out of the archway to the balcony, causing her dark hair to spill over her shoulders in waves.

Qui-Gon turned around towards the archway, locking eyes with the blushing, bashful and embarrassed Shmi, her own dark eyes quickly falling to the floor, shameful that she got caught.

The older woman couldn't help it though. She had heard the Jedi in her home talking about her baby boy having special Force-like abilities. She was proud of them, of course, but she was worried that his powers would require him to be trained, and taken away from her.

Anakin was all Shmi Skywalker had left.

The middle aged woman quickly ducked back into her home, an embarrassed blush still brushing her tan cheeks.

The Jedi Master in the situation sighed heavily, still deciding on what to do with the young, talented Anakin Skywalker.

How in Force are we going to do this?

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❝𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄 . . . 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐘 . . . 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 . . . ❞ a soft voice called out to me as bright sunlight streamed through the tightly closed blinds.

"Clarissé..." the feminine voice pressed harder, lightly grabbing me by the shoulder and shaking me as gently as they could.

I groaned as I snuggled into the soft bedsheets once more, the fluffy pillow pressing tightly in my head, my long chestnut hair spilling out onto the white fabric. I had taken my braids out for bedtime, the ribbons used to tie it together around my wrists.

"Clarissé Alora Amidala Naberrie! Get up!" The nice sounding voice quickly turned stern as they yelled for me to get out of bed.

Over my dead body would that ever happen.

I swatted the person, who was probably Padmé, away with my delicate hand.

That must have really pissed my sister off, for the next thing I knew, I was being dragged by my feet out of the bed.

"No!" I slightly giggled and shrieked, clawing at the messy, tangled bedsheets with my fingernails, the hard nail almost ripping them apart.

"Yes!" Padmé yelled right back at me, tugging me down to land hard on the stone floor beneath the couch Padmé and I had slept on last night. Qui-Gon had slept on the floor in Anakin's room, insisting that he found the floor more comfortable.

Indirá had contacted me last night, wondering if we had found the parts for our transport. I had told her we had, but we would have to spend the night to retrieve them. She was strangely worried throughout the entire conversation, almost as if something had happened while I was away.

I chose to ignore it for the most part. 

I looked up to find the upside down face of my seething sister staring straight into my eyes, her dark brown irises laced with a fiery anger.

I audibly gulped at the look in her eyes, all signs of laughter vanishing from my voice box.

A beat had passed before a ghost of a smile appeared on Padmé's tan face, her wonderful cheekbones curving up.

I greatly grinned as her pink lips widened into a full grin, her teeth popping out behind her curved lip.

She suddenly pounced on me, tickling my mid drift while smiling ferociously.

"Padmé!" I laughed, my breath running out quickly as I started to attempt to slap her away, the tickling becoming too much for my small body, "Stop it! I can't breathe!"

"Too bad, Clarie," she giggled, finally getting off of me and stopping the insufferable tickling fight we engaged in, "You deserved that."

I jokingly rolled my green eyes at her, crossing my arms across my chest while slightly jutting my hip out to prove a point.

"Fine," I sighed in dejection, "Maybe I did deserve that."

Padmé laughed heartily, tugging me by the arm into her warm, loving embrace.

"Can you ever forgive me, Clarissé? My dear, wonderful little sister. The magnificent Queen Amidala of Naboo," Padmé joked, her head hung down in fake shame and her dark brown eyes playfully widening to create what most would call the "puppy dog eyes". My sister even went as far as to stick her bottom lip out, making it tremble slightly for more dramatic effect.

I looked up at my older brunette sister, narrowing my eyes in consideration, my black pupils surely shrinking due to the pressure in between my eyes.

"Hmm..." I trailed off, pulling away from the hug and putting my small chin in my petite hand, "I might forgive you if you call me the greatest little sister in the whole galaxy!"

Padmé smirked as she replied, "Clarissé Alora Amidala Naberrie is the best little sister ever."

I widely smiled, my pearly teeth showing in all their glory. I uncrossed my arms and quickly jumped back into the loving arms of my older sister, nuzzling my head into her warm mid section.

Padmé laughed as she asked, "Do you forgive me now?"

"Maybe," I partially agreed, still tightly holding onto her warm, caring arms. She soothed my curly chestnut hair down, just like put mother used to do when I got nightmares as a little girl.

The action made me miss my family back on Naboo greatly. I could imagine them back at home now.

Mother would be in the kitchen making our favorite hsuberry pie, the berries picked from the tree out in our spacious backyard. Mother would be whisking the batter away into a pure liquid. Father would be playing the grand piano in our small parlor; every Nubian has one. He always was incredible at the fingered controlled instrument. Sola would be setting the table with Darred, cracking jokes with her future husband. Padmé and I, if we were there, would be in our shared bedroom, finishing up a game of Crackle Snap. It was a game Padmé and I had created on a dreary grey afternoon a few years ago. With nothing else to do, we got some of my cracking marbles from my hidden treasures box. We started playing guessing games with them, and when one of us got one wrong, we were required to throw it on the ground, causing a mini firework show in our bedroom. And so, our favorite game was born. It was simple, but fun nonetheless.

I didn't notice, but small tears started to prick my eyes, my memories and feelings for my family flooding back into my already stressed mind.

"I miss them," I found myself whispering, my voice so soft it was almost carried away into the air, "Mother and Father. Sola and Darred. I miss them so much."

At this point, I had started to silently cry, my tears falling down my puffy cheeks in graceful streaks.

Padmé sensed that I was sobbing, and quickly started to rub my back in comfort, her fingertips leaving behind a soothing feeling.

"Shh..." she gently shushed me, her voice imprinting itself into my ringing ears, "It's okay. I know you miss them, Clarie."

"We'll see them again."

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A/N: Okay, so I really wanted to incorporate the whole podrace in this chapter, but I really wanted you guys to get another update. And so, this came out. I think this chapter came out fine, but I literally took a day or two to write it, so who knows how well it turned out.

For today's fun fact, Clarissé is extremely close to her father, Ruwee Naberrie. Before Clarie was Queen of Naboo, her and her father would play the piano in their parlor for hours, never stopping or taking a break while always finding comfort in the other's piano playing.

And that's all folks! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I'm hoping that we're done with it for this weekend. Goodbye!

Word Count: 2840 words