luminous beings we are
Summary: In a different life, their meeting would have been fate. OneShot- Luke Skywalker. (Luke, Leia, Ben and a day on Borleias.)
Set: story-unrelated (chronologically, somewhere between Episode 6 and 7)
Warning: -
Disclaimer: Standards apply.
"Uncle Luke."
Green. So much green. He hadn't seen these many shades of green since Endor, and… It was fascinating. Being able to look at a jungle and actually think oh, wow, was quite different to looking at a jungle and thinking Force, I am going to die here.
Borleias' rainforest was marvelous.
"Uncle Luke?"
The scents. And the sounds. And the images: the huge trees, the colorful flours twining around the trunks that were so thick three grown man would be needed to span them completely. The sky was of a misty blue, with clouds already gathering at the edges of the forest. It would rain, soon.
"Uncle Luke!"
This time, Ben tugged at his tunic, insistent. Luke tore himself away from his observations and turned to his seven-year-old nephew.
"Yes?"
„Mama's there."
Luke followed the child's pointing finger, and indeed. A group of people had exited the Alderaan Biotics Facility and was now standing in the humid forest air, still discussing vividly. One of the people was Leia Organa Solo: not the tallest person in the group, nor was she the most striking. But still, she stood out, shining in the Force like a beacon.
"You are right," Luke said to Ben, smiling down at him. "I think they're almost done talking. What do you think?"
"I think so, too," the boy said, dark hair, dark eyes and a serene expression. While he looked like his father, his character came more after his mother's. They shared the Force sensitivity, too, both attuned to even the slightest fluctuations of the Force. But unlike Leia, Ben was trained.
Or, at least, had begun training.
Luke never was sure whether he really managed to instruct his nephew according to the Jedi Codex, or whether he was just winging it. There was so little information, and so much history. His travels with Lor San Tekka had given him a large pool of insight into the Codex, but he would never be sure about all of it. Maybe he was way off, and there simply was nobody left to tell him otherwise.
It was especially difficult with Ben.
Leia had confided in Luke that she had felt occasional shadows within him, stray thoughts, flashes of darkness. Luke had felt them, too, but neither one of them knew what to make of it. They could just teach him to the best of their abilities and hope for the best, he supposed.
Trust in the Force.
At his only slightly ironic sigh, Leia, standing out of hearing range but still sensing them, turned. A smile bloomed on her face and she said something to the people surrounding her. One bowed, slightly, one, an elder man, much more deeply and respectful. The others shook her hand.
As she walked across the park's gravel paths towards where Luke and Ben were waiting the sun came out, bathing the park in a curtain of light.
"Hey, love," she said, leaning down to kiss her son. He let her, reaching out to hug her, briefly, and then disengaged quickly. Seven years, Luke mused. How fast children grew.
"Luke."
"Leia." He leaned in to kiss her cheek, smiling. "Are you done here?"
"Thank the Force, yes," she returned, smiling, as well. "It took longer than I expected, but I'm through. And hungry as a rancor. What about you, Ben?"
The boy voiced his approval, emphatically.
Leia laughed.
"There was a place at the space port," Luke offered. "Alderaanian."
"Sounds great! Ben?"
The boy nodded and stretched out his hand. Leia took it, and off they were, laughing. She threw a glance back at Luke, her Force presence at the other end of their twin bond blindingly beautiful.
"What are you waiting for!"
The landing pad of Borleias space port was full of life and noise.
On Tatooine, even the space port had been grey and drab and sand, cowering huts and heat-cracked duracrete. And why was it that he still compared everything to Tatooine? He had not been there for decades. Luke smirked at himself. You can take a farm boy off Tatooine, but you can't take Tatooine out of a farm boy. Han, and his endless barrage of teasing. Well, they had grown far beyond the naïve farm boy and the sarcastic smuggler they had been when they first had met. Han was a respected businessman and Luke a Jedi Master, and determined to teach his best friend's son and his own nephew everything he had learned. And his sister was a member of the New Republic, a respected senator and politician, and still as bright and sharp as the first day he had met her.
"So have you decided?"
Ben had deserted their table after dessert and had left them some precious time to talk. Leia spooned cream into her caf, seemingly unconcerned. He could sense her emotions over their bond: she was happy for him, and conflicted, same as she always felt when they breached this topic. Because him settling down meant he would be beginning to teach, as they had discussed many times in the past, and him beginning to teach would mean that he would start instructing Ben. And that would mean that she would have to let go of her son, six years and three months years and a beautiful, bright beacon in the Force.
"I think," Luke replied, slowly turning a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. "I keep coming back to one place."
"Where?"
He smiled, aware that there was only little humor in his face just now, balancing it with love. "I think I am taking your advice on the nature of the location."
Leia's eye brows wandered up. She took a sip of her beverage and smiled. "That's probably the best."
They shared a quick smile. For a minute, they did not talk, just sat there, looking at their surroundings. A circle of kids on the far side of the landing pad opened up and Ben merged with them in a way only kids seemed to be able to.
"And you are sure that you–"
"Yes." She said it without force, just with a quiet conviction. "I'm good at what I am doing, Luke, just as you are, as well. And someone has to keep an eye on this Galactic Republic, right?"
"You always were the responsible one of the two of us."
She laughed, quietly, and then her voice trailed off. "Sometimes I wish…"
"I know." Luke touched her hand gently. "But you are good at what you're doing, Leia. And the new republic needs people like you."
"The galaxy doesn't need us at all."
"No. But the people need us. They need you. They need to see you as a member of the Galactic Senate. Their trust in you will carry them."
Leia leaned back, relaxing, and took another sip of her caf. Luke felt her clear her mind, and steeled himself at the teasing edge her presence took on.
"So," she said, smirking. "Han told me there was nothing between you and Gaeriel Captison."
Despite the warning he railed at her sudden change of topic, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks. "Han is right."
Leia laughed, a high, pretty sound. "The day you would agree with him, who thought it would come!" She sobered up again almost as quickly as her amusement had come. "Are you alright, Luke?"
He dragged a spoon through his hot chocolate, considering her words. "I guess. Now I am. Staying with her would have endangered her even more."
"That shouldn't –"
"Leia," he said, softly. "Don't. Both of us know how this works."
This time she touched his hand; soothing and familiar.
Then, she sobered up. "Our shuttle is leaving soon. I'll go and settle our bill at the hotel. Will you get Ben? We can meet at the bay."
"Will do."
On the other side of the loading dock, Ben was now completely engrossed in some game or other.
How long would he be able to play like that, Luke wondered. Ben was a sweet child, patient and kind. But he also was prone to heated outbursts and flashes of anger that, quite frankly, scared Leia. Luke was at least eighty percent sure that Ben's temper was not of the vicious, dark sort but just – well, how did Han call it? Boys will be boys. Leia was more afraid, even though she hid her worries. Luke could still feel them, and had promised himself to protect Ben from anything and anyone – even from himself. He could not afford to make a mistake with his training if it meant losing Leia's beloved son.
Ben was his beloved nephew, as well.
That probably meant he would have to guide him from the distance, did it not? He could not afford to have the boy seem like he was favored above the other students. If Ben was even a tiny bit like Leia – and he was, Luke knew the feeling of both of them in the Force – he would resent his uncle for any special treatment.
Well, planning curricula would have to wait until he actually had established a Jedi Temple. Until then, here he was, spending a holiday with his sister and nephew. This was not the time for planning.
Aforementioned nephew, who was still on the other side of the landing pad, staring at something on the ground with rapt attention. As were the kids around him, all their focus on the spinning disks on the ground –
Luke quickened his pace as a hover lift brushed past him with howling engines, crossing the pad. And a woman rounded the corner and almost collided with him, appearing in his Force perception so abruptly he had no warning at all, and came to a stop just heartbeats before they ran into each other.
"Karabast!"
Automatically, he stretched out a hand to stabilize her but gripped nothing but humid rainforest air as she moved aside gracefully.
"I am terribly sorry," he apologized, looked up and focused on her face.
Looked.
And was blinded by her sheer presence.
Golden-and-red hair, green eyes as deep and alive as the oceans on Mon Calamari. She was as tall as he was, with a lithe but well-formed figure, and her face –
The next thing he felt was a slight pressure in his mind. A heartbeat later, he realized she was Force-probing him.
Shavit.
Tentatively, he stretched out his own mind in return, trying to catch a glimpse of her – and was stone-walled by the strongest mental barrier he had ever encountered. It stretched wider than he could comprehend, higher than he could imagine – and was impenetrable. Her mind's fingers, in return, prodded at his own barriers a bit and, when they could find no immediate hold, retracted. So she was trained, but not enough to attempt breaking through his walls. On the other hand, if she was no enemy she had no reason to break through, hadn't she? And if she was an enemy, she would try to appear harmless.
But.
Even the brief touch of her presence in the Force took his breath away a second time. Dim and mostly hidden, it was not particularly power- or even beautiful. Not like Leia's, a blazing light of strength and determination. Or Ben's, with the overwhelming promise of beauty and myriad of possibilities. But the sheer presence it demanded – the strength of mind and heart that stood behind it – were like a physical force of attraction. He wanted nothing more than to stretch out his hands and touch her, make sure that she was real. Luke looked into her eyes and saw a world, and was stuck speechless.
For a second, the woman looked like she recognized him. (Luke Skywalker, Last Jedi, Hero of the Rebellion, Legend –) But then, something else flickered over her face and was gone.
"Don't sweat it." Her reply was curt, but not impolite. He blinked, piecing together that this was the answer to something he had just said, even if he could for the life of him not remember what it had been. She was carrying a datapad, a see-through bag of still-hot sweet-sand cookies and a few cups of caf, judging from the scent that rose from it. Despite their precarious almost-run-in and her most impressive dodge, she had not spilled a droplet.
Her eyes passed over him, openly calculating, and Luke felt the overwhelming urge to reach out again. He clamped down on it determinedly and tried to find something, anything, to say.
"Are those sweet-sand cookies?"
Bravo, Luke. Smooth.
Her ocean-green eyes returned to his face almost unwillingly, her features falling into a frown. "Yes."
"I haven't had those since I was a child."
"The vendor next corner sells them," she informed him curtly.
Heat had been rising into his face from the unfortunate moment on that he had opened his mouth. By now, he probably rivalled a Jaquira fruit at its ripest. Taking a breath, he calmed himself, keeping more blood from rising into his face.
"Thank you."
She threw him another, skeptical gaze. "Okay."
A part of him was covering his eyes in embarrassment. Just let it be, Luke. But another part of him, one he had never felt before, was trembling in anticipation. Ask for her name.
"I –"
"Jade, Fawn wants us gone before the next rain shower, how's it going?" Someone called out, half-hidden behind a stack of crates that were being loaded by two droids. A few seconds later, a tall, blond man appeared, threw Luke a calculating glance and turned to the woman.
"You good?"
"Yeah," she replied, using one hand to tuck a few strands of hair that had escaped her long braid behind her ears. "Coming. You, take these."
The man accepted the bag with a nod and waited. The woman turned and left, striding up the gangway and disappearing on the freighter. The man followed, throwing an unmistakable glance backwards at Luke. There was no immediate threat in his Force presence, but something cold and calculating and definitively ready to use force to protect the woman. Also, a tiny blip of irony, since she would need no protection – least of all his. They disappeared in the transporter and ducked out of sight.
He stood, transfixed.
A shout woke him from his stupor. Shaking himself and hoping that, in the process, his mind would shake itself free, as well, Luke Skywalker went to retrieve his nephew.
Hours later, back in the cabin of Leia's Mirrorbright and with his sister's and nephew's bodies and mind peacefully asleep in the neighboring quarters after a good dinner and an extended round of hologames, he finally had the time to think the encounter over.
Why had this woman felt so…
Why had he thought, for a second, that he knew her?
She had been beautiful, even with the streaks of engine grease marring her even face and the shapeless, dirty overall. Though veiled, her Force presence had a strength he had seldom encountered in un-trained Force sensitives. But her mind had stretched out and probed his, unmistakably, so she was in possession of some kind of training.
The last of the Jedi you are, Master Yoda's voice echoed through his mind.
Luke had not thought about that for a long, long time. He'd always supposed that his master had meant that all the other Jedi had been killed. But there had been other, Force-sensitive beings, always had been. If Yoda had only regarded those with appropriate training as Jedi, he must have meant that Luke was the only survivor, the last one of the Jedi of Old. But there had been other, trained Jedi, even after the Empire fell. What had he meant? And who was this woman whose gaze had burned right through him?
Sorrow.
With some distance between them, he was able to make more sense of the echoes he had glimpsed from her presence. There had been sorrow within her, overwhelming and deep and dark. She had shielded it well but it leaked out of her durasteel mask, bled past the blast-doors of her sublime composure. Sorrow and grief so earth-shaking it broke his heart just remembering it. And anger, too – she had definitely been touched by the Dark Side. Strangely, Luke did not think she had ever fallen to it. But the stain was there, unmistakably. Anger and hate – but diminished by years, weakened by time. With the little he knew from their brief encounter, it was enough for him to be grateful Sidious had not found and trained her. As a Sith, she would probably have been unstoppable. As a Jedi, she would be formidable.
He needed to find her.
It probably would not be difficult to figure out the ship's name – Captain Fawn, was it? – and the crew manifest from their data at Borleias space port. Artoo would just have to hack into the crewmember database and find her, and then he would also know where they were headed next. He needed to talk to her, see if the darkness within her was a threat. He would train her, teach her to make an appropriate use of her Force abilities. It was a shame to let all that go to waste, she would be so much better off if she was able to control what he had sensed were mostly rudimentary instincts and a bit of careful training in certain areas. To him, it seemed as if someone had only boosted her abilities in certain areas, though he could not, for the life of him, comprehend why someone would need to only probe people and protect his own mind instead of learning how to use and comprehend the Force entirely. She would be grateful for his offer.
Yes. That sounded like a good idea.
He would find her and train her. That way, he would be able to learn more about the fascinating woman with the fiery red hair and the green eyes that held so much strength and grief at once –
Luke.
He started violently. It had taken him some time to realize that the voice of his conscience sounded like Leia, had even before they had met. One of the things he would never comprehend, and, if he was honest, did not need to understand.
What are you doing?
Realization trickled in, like a tiny stream steadily growing, a brook gurgling past merrily. He closed his eyes, shame-faced. He was assuming, again, going full Jedi mode, as Han liked to call it. Don't presume you know what is best for me, his friend had told him, on numerous occasions. I live my own life. I make my own decisions. It had been said lovingly, but Luke – well, apparently, Luke had needed until now to understand, so he had not comprehended, not right then.
He hoped he did now.
There were no words to describe the realization that came with a profound sensation of peace, no way to voice it in a way that would stay with him. The instant he realized it, it fled again. Unable to grasp it, he just sat, breathing, and prayed the understanding would return.
He sent a voiceless message to the Force, and to his twin.
Thank you.
In response he felt a flutter in their twin bond, faint and loving, oh-so-familiar.
In the next room, Ben's Force signature shimmered with his dreams, soft and warm and gentle, and Luke closed his eyes and put all thoughts of the strange encounter out of his mind.
Sleep caught him, lovingly, when he drifted off, the Force whispering a lullaby of roads untraveled.