Threading the Needle:

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Luke stood with his wife at the edge of the sunken pit that used to be home to the Lars family… and him. He closed his eyes as memories flooded him, and in his mind's eye he saw a little blond haired, blue-eyed boy running around with a model X-Wing in his grasp.

Pew Pew!

Cut to the left! Incoming TIE's!

Copy Rogue Leader!

I got 'em!

Luke smiled wistfully, and turned to enter the homestead. No one had claimed the property, though Luke wondered if people were afraid of the horror that had occurred all those years ago, or if it was out of respect to the family who'd lived there.

Black marks and burn holes littered the walls to either side, and Luke brushed them with his fingers as he descended. He reached the kitchen and again paused, remembering the many times he'd walked by as Aunt Beru cooked.

Luke's stomach rumbled in agreement as memories of her delicious cooking wafted across his mind. Sighing softly, Luke finally made it to his bedroom. It had been burned with the rest of the place, but Luke wondered if it had been completely ransacked by Jawas and Tusken Raiders.

Luke moved through the room, opening the ruined drawers of his old dresser. As he'd expected, everything was either ash, or destroyed by the nomadic peoples of Tatooine. Mara watched him quietly from the doorway, allowing him time to reminisce.

He moved to the bed, gazing at it. On sudden impulse, and from a memory long buried, Luke lifted the mattress, gazing at the underside. Barely noticeable on the underside was a tear, one he'd been careful to hide from his aunt and uncle.

Luke dug his hand into the guts of the mattress and it took a moment, but his fingers finally found a cold metal object. Grasping it carefully, Luke fished it out, and set the mattress back down. Mara finally joined him, her curiosity piqued.

"What is that?" She asked.

In her husband's grasp was a tiny replica of a Nabooian skiff. Its sleek contours and obvious royal intentions spoke of not only power and grace, but peace. Luke cradled the object like it was the rarest of precious stones, gazing at it almost reverently.

"When I was six, this ship was given to me by a man I met in Mos Eisley. I was there with my Aunt, we were shopping for food. I got separated from her, and a man found me wandering the streets. I was terrified when I realized how late it was and I feared that Beru had left without me." He shifted to sit on the floor.

"I was frantic, and it was getting darker by the minute. Finally, when I rounded a blind corner, I ran straight into the pilot. I never did learn his name. He was angry at first, but after I helped him gather the things he'd dropped, I stood there shaking. He saw my fear and after a moment asked what was wrong.

"I told him I'd lost Beru, and he smiled sympathetically. He took me to his ship so he could deposit his supplies, and when he returned to help me find Beru, he produced this toy. I stared in wonder at it, and for reasons I didn't understand until much later, I felt drawn to this ship."

Luke smiled longingly. "This is a replica of my mother's skiff from her time as Queen on Naboo. I didn't know that then, of course, but I kept it with me because I was so drawn to it. Eventually we found Beru, who was just as frantic as I had been. I never showed her my ship, for fear she'd tell Owen. I was certain he would take it from me, so I hid it in my mattress."

Luke leaned against Mara, who'd joined him on the floor. She kissed his head, placing her hand against his, and closing his fingers around the trinket.

"Then you should keep it." Mara murmured.

Luke smiled, grateful for her support, and pocketed it. Then he suddenly grinned.

"Come on."

Tugging her up with him, he led her to the garage. Luke knew it would be ransacked, but he was surprised to see that his skyhopper was still somewhat intact. Jawas had gutted the systems, but the shell of the craft remained, and Luke ran a loving hand along the ancient-looking hull.

"This baby was my only true source of freedom while I was growing up. I saved for so long to buy her, and even then Uncle Owen was wary of it; but I was old enough to pilot by then. I never told him where I really went in it, of course." He grimaced. "Owen would have killed me for sure if he knew I was racing in Beggar's Canyon. Or worse, he would have taken my Skyhopper."

Mara grinned. Of course Luke would see his ship being taken away as a fate worse than death. He'd had nothing else it seemed, while living on Tatooine.

"I miss racing through the canyon." Luke murmured, turning to Mara.

Mara bit her lip, and then took his hand. "So let's go have some fun."

Luke tilted his head, a questioning look in his eyes.

"I'll bet there are rental craft we could find." Mara explained. "Let's take a run through the canyon."

Despite his years of being a Jedi, Luke's eyes lit up at what she was proposing. "Would you really like that?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." Mara said mildly.

Luke grinned, and practically dragged her topside. They flew to Mos Eisley, where they indeed found a shop renting speeders and other craft. Luke's eyes danced when he alighted upon a Skyhopper much like the one from his youth.

Mara marveled at his temporary abandonment of his Jedi duties for a chance to relive his teenage thrill. She knew that as soon as they left Tatooine, Luke would revert to his normal serene disposition. But she delved eagerly into such a rare glimpse of Luke's Farmboy nature, and the impatient, yet earnest youth he used to be.

Luke paid the rental fee, and the dealer fueled their craft. Minutes later, they were flying across the desert sands. Luke's anticipation grew when the southern end of the canyon came into view.

Mara sat back, allowing him to pilot, and eager to see just what he had planned. A sliver of trepidation wormed its way into her calm, warning her that this canyon was dangerous. But Mara trusted her husband: he knew Beggar's Canyon like the back of his hand.

But it was a little nagging thought at the rear of Luke's mind that caught her attention. Once she picked up on it, she grimaced; unsure she wanted to relive that particular piece of his youth.

Luke glanced over to where she sat, raising a questioning eyebrow. He didn't need to ask, she saw quite clearly what he wanted from her.

"I'm ready when you are." Mara assured him.

He grinned and returned his attention fore, where the mouth of the canyon, or the Notch as the locals called it, shrunk to engulf them. Mara watched the walls of the canyon speed by at breakneck speeds, feeling a burst of elation from the man in the pilot's chair.

Mara sat stiffly for a moment, not used to the tight and twisting confines of the canyon. But gradually she relaxed, feeding off of Luke's enthusiasm. Soon she was grinning as widely as her husband, though when she glanced his way, his face was formed into a mask of concentration.

Mara returned her attention to the world outside, and blanched slightly at the sight of the wicked-looking caverns speedily coming upon them.

"Luke…" Mara said tentatively, glancing at him.

"Do you want me to pull out?" He asked her seriously, and without any ire.

She only had seconds to decide, she knew, but she also trusted her husband. He would never take her through here unless he knew he could do it. If it were only him, he'd go in a heartbeat, Mara knew. But he would never risk the safety of his family without absolute dire need.

"No, go ahead. This should be interesting." She replied.

Luke nodded once, and Mara checked to make sure her straps were securely fastened. And not a moment too soon, because Luke dove into the caverns, weaving expertly through the tight rock formations.

As hundreds of tons of hardened rock towers whizzed past them, Mara found herself enjoying the thrill of the danger. She even let out a short chuckle, but tried not to distract Luke, for one slip up and they would be nothing but a smear on the walls of this canyon.

"Hold on!" Luke warned. "Diablo's Cut is next!"

Mara nodded, swallowing in nervous anticipation. Diablo's Cut was a difficult and multi-layered turn… enough to make a veteran pilot think twice. According to Rogue Squadron and Han Solo, Luke was one of the few people to successfully make the turn.

As it came up, Mara craned her neck to see exactly where the path led, but she couldn't make it out. Luke waited until the last possible second before he hit the brakes for the barest of moments, just enough to keep them from caroming into the wall before he sling-shot them into the next part of Beggar's Canyon. They entered a long, narrow tunnel, and Mara felt Luke stretch out to the Force for guidance.

"You've been in here before, right?" She queried.

"Yes, but Sand People like to use this as an ambush point." Luke replied.

"Ah."

Blinding light greeted them as they emerged unscathed from the tunnel. Mara saw the terrain widen enough to allow for two T-16 Skyhoppers to fly abreast. But it was the tall, 18.2 meter stone edifice that drew not only Mara's attention, but Luke's.

"Well, it's about time you brought a girlfriend with you to thread the needle." Mara quipped, earning herself a twinkling smile from Luke.

"Nah! Only the most special woman in my life get's that honor." He shot back good-naturedly.

"I'm honored." Mara smirked.

Luke brought the Skyhopper level with the Stone Needle. Just as it looked ready to tear the two side wings off the craft, Luke tilted the ship and slid through without a scratch. He whooped loudly, pounding the air with a fist.

"Ha! Best thread ever!" Luke crowed with delight.

Mara shot him an alarmed glare, which he studiously ignored as they approached the final leg of the canyon: Main Avenue and Dead Man's Turn.

To Mara's relief, this section of the landmark was much smoother and more relaxed, Luke taking the turns almost leisurely. But as the last turn came up he accelerated, his hands steady on the controls of their rented craft.

Mara allowed a surge of thrill to sweep through her as Luke finally navigated the dangerous 120 degree turn. The craft veered almost completely into the wall, but Luke managed to bring them around just in time. At last their little craft burst forth from the canyon like a torpedo from its launch tube.

Luke blew out a breath, laughing with his release of tension, and decelerated. After a moment, he brought them back around to the edge of the Canyon, and stopped where they could see it in all its glory.

Tatoo I and Tatoo II were now beginning their final decent, painting the canyon in an array of vibrant colors.

"It's gorgeous!" Mara breathed.

Luke took her hand, planting a firm kiss on her knuckles.

"Nothing's more breathtaking than you, My Love."

Mara smiled, leaning over to place a tender kiss on his lips. He brought his hand to her face when they parted.

"Thank you for this." He said softly. "I needed it."

She watched her husband from the corner of her eye as he let go of his youthful desires along with the ever-fading light of day. And with it came a strange sadness, which he tried to hide.

"Oh, no you don't." Mara chided mildly. "After neglecting to tell me you never threaded the needle without damaging your ship, you owe me one."

He grimaced at that. "Right, sorry about that one…"

"Just tell me what's wrong."

Luke sighed. "Sometimes I miss this simpler life. I didn't carry the immense burden of being the sole Jedi, or the weight of so many deaths on my conscience. I didn't know it then, but I had a good life." He offered a small smile. "I understand now how Uncle Owen could be content with life on the farm. It came with few dangers, and you were almost assured a life of hard work. Not the worst lot to be thrown in life."

Mara nodded in understanding. "Yes. But had you stayed here, racing Skyhoppers, the galaxy would be a far different place. And we would never have met."

Luke looked into her eyes then, and smiled again. But not just any smile, this was her smile, the one he reserved for her alone.

"And for that reason alone, everything else was worth it." He said earnestly.