Dyslexia: Language disability, I have it but I do the best I can.

Author: The Queen Does Not Need to Know is my largest on-going story which I am doing a lot of research and plotting for. This is a shorter fic that is supposed to be fun and give Luke Skywalker the limelight.

Disclaimer: They own what they own, the rest is my work :D

Return of the Father

Summary: Mark Hamill needed a better trilogy sequel, I needed a better prequel, and Anakin Skywalker needed a loving father. As the Whills would have it, Luke Skywalker finds that the Force's idea of time travel involves shuffling the cards of his life. Luke Lars truly was no one from nowhere, but his part to play in the galaxy was far greater than being a Jedi or an outstanding pilot in the rebellion.

Time Travel from the end of Return of the Jedi to ten years before the start of the Phantom Menace.

Chapter 1 - The Virgin

Luke did not know what compelled him to return to Tatooine. Which as Han pointed out to him, was his status quo -not knowing things.

For example, he knew the Empire was evil, with them in charge, corruption, tyranny, slavery, and fear had expanded outwards from the galaxies centre. But he hadn't understood what would happen after the Empire fell.

Leia had known, Princess Leia Organa, the daughter of a Queen and Senator, knew exactly what would happen. She was fighting tooth and claw to revitalize the disbanded Senate as system after system fell in on itself as the power vacuum gaped wide enough that Luke thought the entire galaxy might spiral into a civil war.

And what did he do?

He went exactly where his sister sent him. Sometimes to help in skirmishes, sometimes to be a decorated war hero.

His skills as a pilot seemed vastly more needed than his skills as a Jedi. In fact, most people refused to believe he was a Jedi, or believe in the powers of the Jedi at all.

But then Luke had doubts about being one himself some days.

He kicked the sandy ground beneath his feet. Sighing, he looked up at the sun.

What was he doing here?

He had vague plans to sack Obi-Wan's old quarters, see if the man had left anything behind, but nostalgia had dragged him back to the farm.

For all the years he had wanted to get away from this sand pit, it had been his home.

He and Uncle Owen had not always gotten along, but he could imagine no better mother than kind Aunt Beru. So eager to leave, he hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

He stood on the outside, not even going close enough to see what had become of the unkept space, the untended farmland… How odd that no one had moved in, but then this land had been occupied by the Lars family for generations.

Perhaps it was unlived in out of respect.

Or possibly because the sand people harrassed the out edge of this land far too often.

The suns began to set and Luke felt something shift in the Force.

He needed to find shelter.

He needed to find a distraction from past memories and the less than shiny future.

He straddled his speeder, he thought of going to Anchorhead but ended up travelling further to Mos Eisley.

Force help him, but he missed Ben. His heart still hurt at the thought of how close the old man had been. Why couldn't he have trained him when he was a kid? Maybe then he would have been a tad more prepared to fight the Sith.

Been then he thought of Uncle Owen… on review, there was probably a reason his Uncle hated Obi-Wan Kenobi and his father both.

Luke rarely travelled the desert at night, but with his lightsaber at his side, he didn't think he would have problems. And most criminals and sand people were wary of single black figure bold enough to ride a single person speeder across the desert at night.

But as he travelled, he wondered at the shifting landmarks. The Force was increasing his vision and the moons were bright enough… was that spike of rock taller?

He reached out to the Force and nearly slammed on the breaks.

It felt… different.

He ground his teeth as he found a place to lock up his speeder. Whatever it was, he could deal with it tomorrow.

Finding a place to rent a room for the night, he paid in metal chips, it was pricey currency but about the only thing that was universally accepted across this sad little planet.

Which is why when the innkeeper gave the insignia an investigatory look made him sigh in exasperation, "Is there a problem?"

She looked up, squinting at him, "No… no problem. Here's your key, it's good for the night."

"Thank you," he said, taking the key card and securing it in his breast pocket. He didn't head to the room.

He didn't drink as a rule, but tonight, tonight he needed something to soften his nerves. One drink might help take the acridness from his thoughts.

He hadn't had time to truly mourn all the people he lost in the last few years, so tonight, he would shrug off his Jedi responsibilities and let himself mourn.

He found a pub that wasn't like the one Obi-Wan had dragged him into to find Han. No, this pub was filled with the working class and slaves. The atmosphere was more friendly, more intimate, and though visibly shabbier for hosting a poorer population, Luke felt much more comfortable as he sat down at the bar.

A dark haired woman immediately took a seat next to him, her smile was infectious and her brown eyes were at once kind and cunning.

"Bartender, let's have something sweet for the elite, he must be young if he's braving your humble establishment."

The bartender grunted around his tusks, but grabbed two bottles off the shelf and did something with the cups that Luke appreciated the practised motions of, before sliding it down the table.

As the bartender put down his drink, Luke placed down a smaller coin that was likely overpaying but not by much. With a nod to him, he said, "And something sweet and sour for the lady who offers a compliment between tongue and cheek."

She laughed, running a seductive hand through her long waves. Her clothes were humble, but she was shapely and she didn't need cosmetics to accentuate her beauty. No, she had more than enough personality to draw a person in.

And that person just happened to be him. He took a sip of his drink, trying to keep from flushing.

He was a Jedi Knight for Force's sake, he should have overcome this by now. He supposed he was just lucky Han wasn't here to rib him.

She must have seen the heat in his cheeks because her smile softened, yet somehow, became more real.

"Are you from around here?" she asked.

He nodded, "Out by Anchorhead."

Her dark brows rose, "You're a farmer?"

"I was, I'm a pilot now," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask or bring up the war or politics.

She did neither, humming to herself, she took a sip from her own drink, her gaze never leaving him. He felt like she was trying to gauge his every breath.

He didn't mind, in fact, he was somewhat flattered. He didn't sense that she was trying to hustle him, though she might have been hoping for the free drink. He was careful not to look at the two Twi'lek women sitting at a table that had them in their line of sight. The two females were giggling to one another and shooting the woman with him conspiratorial looks.

"You look sad," she noted.

He refocused on her, and shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. He was in mourning, but it was his to deal with, "What about you, native to Tatooine?"

"No, no," she sighed and did not elaborate. "What's your name?"

"Luke," he said, feeling suddenly awkward when she leaned forward and he had to employ his Jedi training to keep from looking down her shirt.

"Friends call me Aashmi."

"That's a beautiful name."

"Thank you," she said, raising her chin, "I hate it when people shorten it."

He grinned, "There's not much to shorten with my name."

She looked deliberately thoughtful, "There's -Lulu."

He nearly snorted his drink.

Aashmi laughed, patting his arm, "Are you even old enough to be drinking, Little Lulu?"

He glared at her, "I'm twenty-three."

"Darling," she cooed.

"How old are you?" he asked, his voice a tad high. He heard the girls who were definitely Aashmi's friends laughing at their table.

"Twenty-five," she said smugly.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the smile off his face. He didn't mind being teased, not too much anyway.

"What brings you to Mos Eisley?" he asked.

She gestured to the table across the pub, "Our employer has us running errands, but it's late, so we are waiting out the night. And you, Pilot Luke?"

He grinned, "Family."

"Are you staying in town long?"

"Not long, no," he said, finishing his glass, thinking he might actually have to get drunk to even begin to forget about his responsibilities for longer than ten minutes at a time.

She touched a hand to his chest, and he froze even as his heart leapt.

"Shame, and here I was just beginning to grow fond of you," she said, leaning in toward him.

He sat frozen, knowing intellectually that she was flirting with him, but having absolutely no clue how to respond to this situation. Han or Lando would have known what to do, so would have Leia for that matter… but Luke?

But Aashmi didn't need him to be cool or suave, because she took his lack of pulling away as an invitation.

Putting a hand to his cheek, she kissed him, gently at first, then more deeply.

He didn't remain frozen, not with the woman kissing him like that. His eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, he forgot where he was and kissed her back.

He knew his entire face was red when she pulled back and that the look on his face must have been stupid, but her returning smile was radiant.

She finished her drink in one swallow, before standing. She took his hand in hers and asked, "Well pilot, do you have a bunk on a ship or room in the port?"

His throat dried, and his words came out stammering, "I -that is- I don't want to presume…"

She laughed, and he realized he was becoming particularly fond of that sound, of this woman who led with fire and laughter.

"Oh, my dearest, I'm not asking for your credits." Her smile turned wicked, "Just your virtue."

Her friends weren't the only ones laughing at him now that they were standing and making a spectacle of themselves.

His heart hammering, he managed to say, "I have a room-"

Applause rose throughout the bar, her friends cheering from their table, and someone patted him on the back as Aashmi led him to the door. It was embarrassing, but he felt the Force swirled among them all, a happy, well-meaning crowd that was all for young people having a good time.

Force, Leia was going to get this all out of him in detail, he just knew it.

Luke woke in his dream floating between the dark spaces of the galaxy, the light of stars were distant specs.

It was impossible to be afraid, the Force held him.

And out of the darkness formed a floating figure whose face was formed of a white mask.

"Who are you?" Luke asked lazily.

He got the impression of a smile, "I am the teacher of your Master's Master. You may call me Whill."

Luke wondered if Will meant Master Kenobi or Master Yoda, "You are a Jedi then?"

"No, I am Whill, and I've come to give you a second choice."

"A second? What happened to the first?"

"The first time we met, I stole you from your parents when you were just a babe. The second will be in approximately fifteen minutes from now, that's when I gave you your first options, your first choice."

"Excuse me?"

"So I suppose this is the third time for me but only the second for you, though I don't imagine you remember when I took you from your birth parents as an infant and convinced Kenobi, Amidala, and those droids that you were a Skywalker, do you? Oh, that was fun, they thought you were twins, in fact. They were very distracted, you know, didn't even notice me handing the droid another baby before the first was out, though I suppose I was compelling them not to notice… But you don't remember that, do you?"

"Uh, no?" he responded, highly confused.

"Ah well. Anyhow, it is important you make this second choice or we will run into a time paradox that has every probability of ending in your spontaneous combustion," Will informed him cheerily.

"What choice?" he asked, even being suspended in the Force couldn't calm him now.

"To either remain where you were always meant to be or go back- or rather forward, continuing to try to fix an unrepairable future? Well, unrepairable as far as your generations are concerned that is."

"What was my first choice?"

"Not relevant, I purposefully misled you then."

"How do I know you're not misleading me now when you just confessed to kidnapping me!? And does that mean that I am not Leia's twin brother?"

"Nope, not her brother, and you're not blood related to her grandmother either, not to worry. Though you might want to start worrying about the time, it's ticking. You must choose. Do you return to where you are needed most or go on to your twisted future? Or don't choose, and die. Die in a fiery explosion of death and combustibility."

This was a dream, it had to be. But he felt the urgency in the Force, he had to choose. But how could he choose when he didn't understand?

As always, he didn't understand.

Trust in the Force, Luke, the memory of Obi-Wan's teachings resolving him.

He breathed, as best he was able in this altered reality. The Force was with him, "I will return to where I am needed most."

"Oh good, or stealing you was a waste of time and your whole life would have been utterly pointless. However, there is one, little, tiny, caveat to your choice."

"What?" he asked, deeply worried.

"You will not remember the identity of the Emperor."

"Why is that important? He's dead."

The Whill laughed and laughed.

It wasn't cheery, it was creepy, and Luke woke as one wakes from a disturbed nightmare.

The suns were rising, and Luke found a beautiful woman wrapped around him, deep in sleep.

He relaxed, trying to wrap his mind around his dream, or nightmare, or vision?

He felt outwards with the Force, and again, he noted how different it felt… more active and much brighter. Almost too bright, like someone shining a high voltage light directly into one's eye.

He let the connection soften, centring himself in the present.

Very carefully, he ran his hand down her rich brown waves. She didn't wake, though she mumbled something in her sleep.

Aashmi didn't wake for another half an hour. When she did blink awake, the sunlight painting her face in a golden hue, she smiled up at him.

She stretched against him, "Good morning, Luke."

He smiled back, kissing her forehead, "Good morning, Aashmi."

She readjusted herself so they were lying side by side, sharing the pillow. She traced a hand down his arm, "I had the oddest dream… I woke to you disappearing as if you had never been here at all."

He frowned, "I had odd dreams too."

She laughed, pushing her thumb between his brows, "Don't let bad dreams ruin what was a lovely night."

He couldn't restrain his grin nor the heat rising in his cheeks. "Alright," he said easily.

Her smile faded, her eyes searching his face, she cupped his cheek and kissed him. She pulled back slowly, then she sat up abruptly.

His whole being went on high alert, and he fought not to show his wince as he too sat up too fast. He was still healing from what had happened to him on the second Death Star. "What's wrong?" he asked. Searching the room, and using the Force to try and sense any outside danger.

"Nothing… I mean, I have to go, Luke. I don't have a choice."

He slipped from the bed, reaching for his clothes, careful to keep his lightsaber hilt hidden from her view. He had had just enough sense last night to push the belt under the bed. He didn't want to explain it, didn't want to deal with someone like Han thinking the Force was a joke, or have someone like Leia who knew more about the Jedi's history than he did.

"Alright," he said, "Where do you need to go? I can take you if you want."

She stared up at him, an odd expression on her features as if she were struggling with some deep internal conflict.

"Aashmi?" he asked.

"I'm a slave girl to Gardulla the Hutt," she blurted, looking at him as if waiting for a blow.

He sat back on the bed, "I'm sorry, Aashmi, is there anything I can do to help you?"

She huffed a laugh, "You're too good to be real. And no, there's nothing you can do, not unless you're friends with the Hutts."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said again, "I have an exceptionally bad history with the Hutts."

Aashmi's smile was a bit bitter now, "I suppose you wouldn't be of the good sort if you were friends of the Hutts."

"Do you live at the palace by the Dune Sea then?"

"Yes, but I have a ride."

He felt awkward, he would have freed her in an instant if he could have but he knew the powers that be made that nearly impossible. And no one had ever been able to enforce laws on the Hutts, not the Empire, not the Republic, and certainly not the current, barely formed government emerging from the ashes.

"Where would you go, if you could go anywhere in the galaxy?" he asked on impulse.

She raised her brows at him, "You would ask a slave that question?"

"Everyone has dreams," he said.

She smiled, and repeated, "Yes, I suppose everyone has dreams, even me." Her eyes were sad. "I've been to worse worlds then Tatooine, Nar Shaddaa for one. I've also been to worlds of great beauty, but no matter where I've gone, everyone looks at me the same if they notice me at all, some feigning pity and others who appear to blame me for my own enslavement. As if slavery wouldn't exist if I didn't exist, like it was my fault to be born or to fall on such luck. I have no need to travel the galaxy, I just want freedom and safety. Wherever that is, I want to be there, even if it's on a moisture farm in the middle of nowhere."

Luke didn't know what to say to that, his own childhood had been comparably blessed, and all he had ever dreamt of was leaving it behind. "My dearest wish was to become a pilot and fight for the freedom of the galaxy. I got that dream."

"Was it everything you hoped it would be?" she asked.

"No, not in the slightest. I lost more than I knew I had to lose. And I gained more than I thought existed in the galaxy."

"What's your new dream?" she asked, as she stood to begin to dress.

"I don't know," he said, looking at her, wishing he could ask her to stay, but knowing better.

"Well, I hope you find happiness," she said as she finished wrapping her sash around her waist. Then she came around the bed to take his hand, lacing their fingers together, she said, "I will always remember you, Luke."

He put his free hand to the side of her face, "I will always remember you too, Aashmi."

She smirked at him, the light in her eyes dancing with, "Oh I know, a man never forgets his first."

He was pretty sure his face had turned a rather impressive shade of pink just then.

At least, he thought, he got to listen to her laughter a little longer.

KEYnote: Luke is not related to Shmi, he isn't a biological Skywalker in this story.

AN: So what did you think? I'll be updating The Queen Does Not Need to Know weekly, but this story idea came to me and I had to share it. I wanted an awesome Luke and I thought Anakin's mother might have been a wild card in her youth.