The Luke Enchanted Challenge

(Challenge Given By: Marriella -The Bullet-)

Luke is enchanted by a being of the Force and now he is induced to do whatever he's told. Then Vader finds out about this and decides to use this to his advantage.

Time Frame: This can happen anywhere between ANH to ESB.

Type: You CANNOT turn Luke to the Dark Side. He can come close to doing so, but this is supposed to be a Vader redemption fic. (Of course it'll be interesting to see how Vader can come back to the good side when it's Luke who is forced to do whatever he's asked! chuckles evilly)

Notes: In case you guys haven't noticed, I (Marriella -The Bullet- ) have stolen this idea from the movie Ella Enchanted.

0000000000

Prologue

Obi-Wan Kenobi tightened his hold on the precious cargo in his hands, blinking the sting of tears that threatened to fall. He looked down at the bundle in his arms, however, and he realized he could no longer close them off.

Leaning back against the dirty wall, out of the way of the pedestrians walking through the streets of the city, the dam holding his tears back broke, and he let silent sobs shake his body, knowing that in this city no one would pause to give him notice.

He had lost so much. The damned Sith couldn't leave him alone. First, they took his Master. Qui-Gon, the man who was so much like a father to him. And then they took his Apprentice. Anakin…the Chosen One…his brother. They were both dead now. Now only Vader remained.

He looked down once more to the form in his arms, listening to it whimper as his tears fell onto its face, waking it up from its nap. Brilliant blue eyes looked up at him, cut him to the core.

He would not let the Sith take the only thing he had left.

Hugging the baby Skywalker to his chest, Obi-Wan drew upon the Force to soothe it, to soothe himself.

He would not get Luke Skywalker.

As for the other Skywalker (Organa now, Kenobi, he told himself silently) she would be safe from harm, even as she hid right in front of Vader's damned eyes. Eyes so cold…eyes yellow…eyes no longer warmed by an inner light…eyes no longer…

Blue.

Like Luke's.

A tight smile pulled at Obi-Wan's lips as he looked down at the slumbering baby in his arms once more.

"You look so much like your father, young Luke Skywalker. You look so much like…Anakin."

Looking around him once more, Obi-Wan took in the sight of Mos Eisley before heading on his way to the farm owned by the Lars'. Before he could take more than a few steps, however, a gnarled hand settled on his arm, stopping him. Turning around, hoping he would not have to fight with the baby in his arms, he stared down into the face of a hunched old woman, peeking out behind a tattered brown cloak.

"Oh, my, is that a baby?" her scratched voice asked, the smell of refuse exiting her mouth behind rotted teeth.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied stiffly, tightening his hold on him subconsciously.

"What a beautiful baby girl!"

"It's a boy," he replied, resisting the urge to yank the baby away from her pawing hands and run with as much speed as the Force could grant him away. That would look too suspicious.

"Ooh, what a darling baby," the old crone cooed, begging to hold him.

"Sorry ma'am, but he is skittish around strangers." He didn't want to let the boy go, not in this wretched hive of scum and villainy. What might happen?

"Oh, but he wants me!"

Looking down, Obi-Wan saw that she was right. What the Force? Luke was reaching out for her, cooing and gurgling happily. For fear that he might drop the baby should he continue kicking in such determination, Obi-Wan relented, handing the babe over, but ready to draw his lightsaber at any sign of deceit, no matter the consequences.

"What a darling baby. So full of Light. Such Light." Holding the baby up, she stared deep into his eyes. "A true Son of the Suns," she whispered.

Obi-Wan got a distinct unease, and was about to take Luke back, when the woman began what sounded like a chant.

"Light from Mother and Father, Light from the Suns that divulge in two, a Son and a Father. Darkness may come, but the Light shall remain, hidden beneath the Black Mask of Death. Darkness will reign undaunted and unchallenged, until the eve of the Twentieth year.

"The Gift of Obedience, of a Son to the Father, shall bring the cataclysm down, reuniting Love with Love, Hope with Hope, Light with Light. Many trials shall you live through, many obstacles in your path.

"Once the defeat of the Star of Death is concluded, then waver the tide of Darkness and Despair will. Son of the Son, Child of the Chosen. Betrayed. With the touch of Father and Son, this gift of new life shall bloom, and the doorway to the Light shall open. Walkers of the Sky. And the Prophecy shall be complete.

"Obey."

Terrified at what he had heard and yet not understood, Obi-Wan yanked Luke out of the arms of the old woman, staring into the boy's startled blue eyes for a brief second before turning to stare at the old woman…

…who was nowhere in sight.

Spinning around he looked everywhere for her, but she was gone.

"Let's get out of here Luke," he murmured, brushing his lips over the babe's forehead. Pushing the thoughts of what just happened away and out of his mind for the time being, Obi-Wan "Ben" Kenobi took the last hope of the galaxy, and hid him in plain sight.

A few yards away, underneath the hood of a tattered brown cloak, a youthful face looked out with pure but weary brown eyes, a soft smile uplifting the tired pink lips.

And with a shifting of the Force the figure disappeared, the empty cloak falling to the dirt floor in rags.

0000000000

Chapter I

Near Twenty Years Later…

Sighing in annoyance, young Luke Skywalker tossed in his bed one final time before sitting up and rubbing his eyes angrily.

Groaning he swung his legs over the side of his small bed, resting his elbows on his knees and he placed his face in his palms. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his hair before standing up.

Walking over to the refresher he took a warm shower (even after the few months of being with the Rebel Alliance, the fact of real water showers amazed him) in hopes of soothing him, but it only resulted in making him even more awake.

"Ben, I could really use you right now," he murmured, tired blue eyes scanning the empty hallways as he strolled down them.

Ever since blowing up the Death Star (the name sent shivers down his spine, as if it meant something to him, more than just this technical terror that could destroy whole worlds) Luke hadn't been getting enough sleep, and the sleep he did get was usually fitful, causing him to wake up at all hours of the night, when all respectful people should be sleeping away. But not him. Not the so-called Hero of the Alliance. A Jedi, they called him. He, who was just a simple farmboy.

Tonight, it was even worse.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the awful mask of Darth Vader, and heard the chilling sound of his mechanical breath. He would wield his red lightsaber, the weapon of the Jedi, of the Sith. It seemed almost sacrilegious to him, that these monsters would mimic the ways of the Jedi, who fought for peace and justice. All the Sith brought were death and despair.

But what was worse, was that in these visions Luke would see the savage brutality of Vader striking Old Ben down, and all the farmboy could do was watch and scream his anguish.

And then…

…then there were the nightmares of the evil villain raising his blood saber above his head, and striking down a man of crystal blue eyes who tried to protect his little infant son.

That image would always make Luke wake up screaming.

Everyone he had ever considered for the role of Father left him, killed…by the Empire.

His real father, Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi Knight slain by Vader. His Uncle Owen, as well as Aunt Beru, was massacred by the Imperial Troops on Tatooine, and Ben…Ben he watched die with his very own eyes, as once again that Sith Bastard struck someone close to him down.

He would get revenge for all those the Dark Lord had killed or hurt. He would kill him…he would strike him down with his father's lightsaber, and bring peace to the galaxy. He would avenge his father's death.

Running his hand through his still slightly damp hair Luke realized that he had a stalker. He paused, and noted with satisfaction that his stalker stopped too. He grinned. He took a few more steps forward, before stopping again. His stalker mimicked him. Feelings his spirits rise just a little bit, he broke off into a jog, turning abruptly into a different corridor. He had to bite back a snicker at his stalker's dismay.

Waiting for just the right moment, Luke jumped out of his hiding spot in front of his stalker, and smirked when said stalker startled back.

"Hello Artoo."

The little astromech droid beeped and whistled at him indignantly, swiveling its "head" back and forth.

"Well, you shouldn't have been following me. Threepio will blow a circuit if he activates and finds you gone."

Again the droid beeped.

"Oh, don't be so hard on him. It's nice to have someone you can connect with. Someone who understands you," Luke said softly, suddenly growing somber again. "Hey Artoo, do you know what's in a few days?"

At the negative whistle from Artoo Luke smiled softly as they began strolling down the halls again.

"My birthday."

Beep Beep Whistle Beep.

"I'll be twenty. Can you believe it? Newly commissioned commander of a flight squad, and I'll just barely be turning twenty. I bet my father would be proud of me."

Artoo was strangely silent. Luke didn't notice though, too caught up in his own thoughts, and continued on.

"I miss him, you know. I wish he could be here for me, I wish he could have been up there when I destroyed the Death Star. I wish he had been there to teach me in the ways of the Jedi. I wish…I wish that he had been there when Ben died." Running another frustrated hand in his hair he growled, before sighing sadly. "I wish he could be here for my birthday."

Artoo beeped again, wishing to console him.

"Yeah, I know people care about me here. Princess Leia, and Han, and Chewie…but they aren't family. They aren't my father. I would give up almost anything to get to know my father."

Artoo was silent again. He beeped an inquiry, which Luke could only guess at the meaning. So he only shrugged, which seemed to placate the droid, and soon they found themselves at the hanger. They walked immediately to Luke's very own X-Wing.

"Look at it Artoo. Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered, resting his palm on its side, before patting it. "What do you say we do some 'special modifications', as Han would say?"

Artoo was only too ready to start working, wanting to help Luke get his mind off of painful subjects.

After what seemed to Luke only a few minutes, he heard/felt someone approaching. That someone caused a small grin to alight upon his face.

"Leia!" he greeted, pushing himself up off the ground from where he was tinkering with a piece of the ship. He looked confused a little though. "What are you doing up this early in the morning though?"

Princess Leia Organa, for that was who she had been when she arrived, melted into simply Leia. She shook her head, a quirky smile on her lips. "Luke…it's 0700 in the morning."

"What!" Luke exclaimed, before checking his chrono. "Well, what do you know," he murmured. He shrugged, turning back to look at her, smiling his disarming smile. His eyes were still haunted, though, but luckily Leia didn't see it…or if she does, she didn't comment on it.

"The Alliance High Command wishes for me to tell you that a mission has come up that they want you to head," she began, becoming Princess Organa again, even as Simply Leia fought for dominance in her eyes. "You, and maybe a few other Rogues, will need to protect a vessel to and from an Imperial planet as they pick up refugees. Can you do this?"

Luke knew that the last question was not an option. Sighing he nodded. "Yeah, sure thing Princess," he smiled. "When is this mission?"

"Three days time. You can pick two or three other pilots yourself. Report to the High Command as soon as you have done so. Until then, Commander Skywalker," she added with an uplift of her lips.

Luke mock-saluted. "Of course, Princess Organa!"

He watched her chuckling back as she exited, before deflating again. He turned to look over at Artoo. "Well, make sure this ship is operational, it looks like we are going to be leaving soon." He sighed again, slouching. "And the day before my birthday no less."

Artoo again beeped words of encouragement, rolling over to him. Patting his dome head affectionately he offered a small smile.

0000000000

"Hey Wedge," Luke greeted the second-in-command of Rogue Squadron. "You seen Wes and Hobbie?"

"Sorry Boss," Wedge grinned. "Haven't seen them."

Rolling his eyes Luke couldn't help but smile as well. "Alright, well, some important mission or something has come up, and I get to pick some lucky Rogues to go along with me. We're pretty much on escort duty as we are to follow the transport shuttle, pick up some refugees, and head back to the new base. And guess who I pick for this oh-so-exciting mission?" he grinned sadistically.

Wedge was about to answer, when he started making shooing motions and looking wide-eyed over Luke's shoulder.

"What's up Commander Lukie?"

The sadistic grin on Luke's face grew, and Wedge covered his face in his hands, marveling at Janson's stupidity. Luke slowly turned around, causing Wes, and Hobbie, to pause. That look never meant anything good.

"Just the boys I was looking for."

"Uh-oh," the two Rogues replied in unison.

0000000000

Grumbling Wes flicked angrily at his controls. "This is not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to go on an exciting mission."

"Shut up Wes," Hobbie groaned. "Find something to distract yourself with. Like, count the stars."

"Would you both shut up?" Wedge growled. "We're barely five minutes into the mission."

Luke smirked as the bantering continued, flicking a few switches on his controls and glancing out the window to look at the transport vessel. A beep from Artoo made him look back down at his screen for a translation.

"Thanks Artoo," he smiled. "I hope we return in time for my birthday too. Although unless something drastic happens, we should be home free."

The droid beeped again, causing Luke to frown.

"It's Leia's birthday too? That's strange…I wish I had known. She seemed so out of it lately, it must be that this is her first official birthday as a Rebel. Since…Alderaan."

Artoo beeped something a little irritably, but it didn't get translated. Somehow, though, Luke got the distinct feeling that he was cursing.

"Did you and Threepio part on bad terms or something? You seem a little irate today."

Angry beeping.

"Would you look at that, I'm being told off by a droid. 'Mind my own business'," Luke snorted. "I'm sure."

"Hey Rogue Leader, you talking to yourself again?"

"It's a far more intelligent conversation than what you three are jabbering on about."

The sound of imitated laser fire entered the frequency.

"Wes, stop pretending to shoot TIE fighters…" Hobbie groaned.

Shaking his head Luke readied his ship. "Prepare to enter Lightspeed."

"Lightspeed ready Commander Skywalker," his Rogues replied.

"Good. Now I can get some peace and quiet."

The singular pinpoints of stars disappeared into a blur as Hyperspace was achieved, taking Luke Skywalker, a Son of the Suns and a Walker of Sky, towards his destiny.

0000000000

AN: As you can tell, this is a challenge. Info's up top. As this was inspired by Ella Enchanted, I'm going to be taking inferences from there, and putting them in here. But it won't be that storyline. That'd be kind of weird…and I'm pretty sure kinda incestuous. And that's just wrong. Oh, and I have no effin' clue what number the Rogues are, so I made them up. If you know, you can tell me, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna go back and fix it. I'm effin' lazy. Oh, and of course, I've giving Lukie the Rogues a whole hell of a lot sooner than he should be receiving them, I believe, but oh well!

Ja ne!