Daddy Gave Me A Name

Starr28653

My thoughts on Luke growing up without a father and Obi Wan's feelings of responsibility.

Author's note: I wrote this in two days, which is sort of a record for me, so I'm proud of it. I got the idea after seeing Phantom Menace twice and falling in love with Ewan MacGregor. It made me start thinking about Luke's childhood and the way he must have felt growing up fatherless (my best friend's father died when he was about two) and the way Obi Wan might have reacted to that. Oh, and I don't own any of these characters and I make no money off of this story and please don't recopy it without my permission. Yeah. That's about it. Comments, reactions, flames, questions, anything to [email protected], please.

The first day of school. The most important day in any child's life. For some, it's easier to blend into the crowd than to actually speak up. The school set up for the Anchorage area moisture farmers gave no one that option, due to the fact that there were only twenty students in the school. This was the first year that the school existed, a project of the newly controlling Empire in an effort to prepare more students to enter the Academy when they were old enough. The teacher was an overworked, underpaid, underqualified woman who resented all the students for creating a need for her services on this dustball of a planet. The students, all children of nearby farmers, included Biggs and Caitlyn Darklighter, Cammie, Deak, Fixer, Windy, and Luke Skywalker. The oldest, Biggs, was ten; Fixer was nine; Luke, Cammie and Deak were eight; Windy and Caitlyn were seven. None of them had ever really met-life in the desert didn't offer much opportunity for traveling to friend's houses-so they entered the classroom with trepidation and sat at the desks marked with their names. Luke noticed with some dismay that his nametag said "Luke Lars". He was contemplating whether or not to tell the teacher when she began to call roll to better familiarize herself with students. Many of them weren't there-their parents just didn't care enough to take the effort to get their children to the school every morning.

She cycled through the list emotionlessly, marking next to the students who were absent, the ones who were there responding with a grunted "here". When she came to Luke Lars, however, he spoke up. "I'm here. And it's not Lars, it's Skywalker."

"What?" The teacher asked, coming out of the stupor she had slipped into.

"My name. It's not Luke Lars; it's Luke Skywalker.

"Oh...well, that can't be," she protested. "It says on my data sheet that your parents are Owen and Beru Lars, therefore, your name is Luke Lars."

"They're not my parents-they're my aunt and uncle. My last name is Skywalker."

"Well, we'll just have to fix this sheet then, won't we?" She said in a singsong voice. "And where are your real parents?" She presented a picture of concern, but inside, she was rabidly curious. Anything to make these children interesting was worth it.

"Oh, Luke's parents abandoned him." Fixer piped up.

"They did not!" Luke cried angrily.

"Yeah they did. Your dad knocked up your mom and then left her. She was so distraught," he said with an air of tragedy, "that she left you on the doorstep of the poor, unsuspecting Lars family."

"That's not what happened! They died when I was very young."

"Oh yeah?" Fixer challenged. "How?"

"I...I don't know. Uncle Owen never told me. My dad was a navigator on a spice freighter though. He was the best pilot in the whole galaxy."

"Maybe. It's too bad he didn't want you, though."

"That's not true! My father loved me!"

"Then why did he abandon you?"

"Fixer! That's enough!" Biggs was standing now, asserting the unspoken authority he had as the oldest one there.

"Yes, that's right. Now, sit down, children. And, Mr. Skywalker, try not to make such a big deal out of things next time." The teacher had been thoroughly enjoying the events playing out in front of her, but when another student stopped it, she realized that it might be a good idea for her to step in.

Luke was furious. How dare Fixer talk about his father that way! He didn't have any idea what he was talking about. Of course his Father had loved him. Just like he loved his father.

"Class, why don't we begin our lesson for the day. We'll start on page-''

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we don't know your name yet," Caitlyn said.

"And you can just go sit in the back of the room for interrupting, Miss Darklighter."

"What? But I didn't-''

"Now! Or I'll have to call your parents and ask them why you can't follow the rules of the school."

Caitlyn got out of her seat and walked slowly to the back of the room, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. Biggs said nothing. He sat stone-faced in his seat, but Luke could see the anger flashing in his eyes.

"If you had been able to wait, Caitlyn, I would have said that my name is Miss Dickson, and that I'm looking forward to teaching you this year."

Biggs clenched his hands into fists under his desk, but remained silent. Luke and Fixer sent warning looks to each other, but remained silent as well. Miss Dickson went on singing the lesson in her falsely cheerful voice.

Finally, lunch came and the children were released. Eager to see what she could discover tomorrow, Miss Dickson assigned homework.

"I want you all to do a report on your parents and draw a picture of you with them. I expect it to be done by tomorrow." Fixer smirked, and Luke paled. How was he supposed to do a report on his parents if he didn't even know his mother's first name? He stomped into the courtyard angrily and slipped into his poncho for the walk home.

"Hey, Lars!" Fixer shouted.

"My name's not Lars! It's Skywalker."

"I'll bet your dad wouldn't want you to have his name, since he left you without a trace."

"He didn't leave me. He would have stayed if he could have, I know he would!"

"Right. Then why didn't he stay?"

"I told you, he died!" Luke shouted.

"Hey, don't yell at me, kid." Fixer said warningly. "After all, you're nothing more than an illegitimate bastard."

Luke jumped on Fixer in a flash, his small fists pummeling away, but, being small for his age, he was no match for the bigger boy and soon found himself pinned on the hot sand.

"Look at that! He can't even fight! He's crawling around in the dirt like a worm. No wonder his dad left him!"

Possessed with an anger stronger than he had ever felt, Luke ripped one of his arms free of Fixer's grip and punched him in the face. The boy fell back, shocked by this turn of events, blood running out of a cut in his lip.

"Oh, you'll pay for that, you little worm," he growled, and rushed at Luke. The young boy sidestepped him, his reflexes like a cat's, and turned as Fixer wheeled about to face him. Fixer picked up a large rock, frustrated, and hurled it at Luke as hard as he could. Luke put his hands up to shield his face and thought of how much he hated Fixer. In the split second that the feeling entered his being, the rock changed directions and smashed into Fixer's head. The boy fell to the ground, unconscious. Startled, Luke looked at his hands, at the rock, at Fixer's body in the sand, at the rest of the children staring at him.

"Luke..." Biggs took a step towards him.

"It wasn't my fault!" Luke backed away, scared and confused. "I don't know what happened. I didn't touch the rock! You saw! Biggs, Caitlyn, you saw...it wasn't me!" But inside, he knew that somehow, he was responsible. Even without touching it, he had wanted that rock to hit Fixer, had wanted the boy to be hurt. Sick at heart, he turned and ran from the schoolyard into the desert.

Biggs started after him, but Miss Dickson grabbed his shoulder and held him back. "Let him go." She said. "He needs to learn his lesson."

"But he could die out there!" Biggs cried. "He could get lost, or there could be a sandstorm, or..."

"It doesn't matter. If the boy has any brains in his head, he'll come back and face what's coming to him."

Luke ran until he had no anger or fear left. Totally numb, he dropped to his knees in the sand and closed his eyes. The suns would set soon, and he would be alone in the cold of the night. He was scared, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He had learned long ago that there was no use crying over something you couldn't change. He was tired, beyond caring about anything, but he couldn't sleep. He had to at least find shelter of some sort. With a shock of fear, he realized that he didn't even know where he was. He felt a coldness inside of him that had nothing to do with the lengthening shadows. He was lost. With the calm of those who are beyond hope, he rose and began trudging to the far off cliffs.

Beru Lars was almost insane with worry and grief. Owen gripped his cup-he hadn't yet noticed what exactly he was drinking-with white knuckled fingers as Biggs related the day's events to them.

"Miss Dickson wanted him to 'learn his lesson', but he can't stay out there alone! It's not safe." He pounded his young fist on the table angrily. "What does she know, anyway? She's never lived here! She just marches right in there and lets Fixer..." He stopped, overwhelmed, and took a deep breath. "It just isn't fair."

Terrified for her young charge as she was, Beru couldn't let Biggs tear himself apart the way he was doing. "Biggs," she said calmly, touching his hand, "there wasn't anything you could have done. True, Miss Dickson should have stepped in, but what's done is done. Now we have to worry about finding Luke before the sand storms come up."

Owen looked up from his intense study of the liquid in his cup. "Son, you say the rock was heading for him, he lifted his hands up, and it changed direction and hit this boy instead?"

"Yessir. I don't understand how, but that's what happened."

"You're sure? He didn't bat it back with his hand? He didn't touch it?"

"No, sir. It never even got close to him."

Owen let his head drop again. "Just like his father..." he whispered.

"What?" Biggs asked.

"Owen!" Beru snapped. "You can worry about that later. Now is not the time. We have to do something."

"I can't do anything now, Beru. It's too late to take a speeder out. I'd just end up lost, circling the same terrain and finding nothing. We can only wait until tomorrow morning and pray."

"But there must be something you can do..." she whispered.

"I'm sorry." He turned to Biggs. "You better run along home now. Luke will be fine. He's...he's a strong boy. He'll be fine."

When Biggs was gone, Beru turned to her husband. "If you can't do anything, then I will."

"Beru, you can't go out there. You won't have any more of a chance than I will."

"No, but I know someone who will."

"What? Beru, no. It's that damned Force that got him into this mess to begin with!"

"And right now, that damned Force is the only chance he has to survive!"

"Now, we don't know that. He still has a chance..."

"No, he doesn't, Owen. You know that. For once, let Luke come before your damn pride!"

He turned away, chagrined, as Beru punched in the emergency comcode Obi Wan Kenobi had given them when he had left young Luke in their care.

"Obi Wan? We need your help. It's Luke."

Luke huddled in a barely hidden alcove, the best shelter he could find. The wind was whipping furiously now, and sand stung his uncovered skin. He was tired and hungry and cold, but most of all, he was scared. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he have a father and a mother like normal boys did? What did he do wrong? He must have done something, or else he wouldn't be different. He cracked his eyes open a bit, trying to look out at the desert, but the sand blew into them and he squeezed them shut. They began to water, the tears a product of anger, fear, and pain. He wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway. The sand would have obscured the stars and moons and pale light from the suns. But they were there. Above all the blowing sand, looking down on the people below them, they were there. Just like his father. He may have been dead, but he wasn't gone. He was still there, just like the stars, watching over him. And Luke knew that his father wouldn't let him die. He wouldn't.

Obi Wan Kenobi, bundled in layers of protective cloth and carrying a bag with food, water, medical supplies, and clothing, pulled goggles over his eyes and braced himself to enter the harsh wind. He reached out with his senses, trying to find that bright spot hidden in the shifting sands. He stopped thinking, let his mind lead him, and began to walk.

Luke was tired. He was beyond hunger, beyond thirst, beyond fear, even. He was just filled with weariness and a desire to sleep. He didn't know how long he had been hiding from the storm, he just knew it had been a long time. He still couldn't open his eyes to look at his chrono, but he was certain that if he could, the sand would have scratched the face so badly that he couldn't make out the numbers anyway. It made no difference, really. He didn't think the storm would ever end. Maybe he could just sleep forever. Sleep, and never know about the storm around him, and dream of his father.

He was moving towards an inner darkness when he heard someone call his name, the voice soft under the roar of the sand.

"Father?" His voice sounded rusty and he was wracked with coughs, but it didn't matter. His father had come for him! He wouldn't let him die after all! The man put a hand under Luke's head and helped him to sit straight. He wrapped a blanket around him and held him close as he wiped the sand from the boy's face and fixed goggles over his eyes.

"No, Luke. I'm not your father; I'm a friend. Now lie still for a moment."

"A friend? Did my father send you?" He opened his eyes to look, but found that his vision was blurred with unshed tears.

Obi Wan shook his head slowly. It was so hard for the boy. If only Owen wasn't so vehemently opposed to any mention of Anakin. "You could say that, Luke, yes."

"I knew he would help me. I knew he would."

"Your father loved helping people. He was a good friend. Now drink this and try to lie still, but don't drink too much or too quickly."

Luke swallowed the water offered to him, his head still wrapped in what he now realized was this man's cloak, not a blanket. Warm and safe, he fell into a peaceful sleep.

He saw his father standing over him, with a smile on his face. He held out his hand to the boy, and Luke took it eagerly. Now he would show Fixer! His father loved him and wanted to be with him.

With the suddenness of a bolt of lightning, however, a black clad man came sweeping in and cut his father down before Luke's eyes. Father crumpled, the man in black grabbed Luke's hand and began to drag him into the void and he was screaming, screaming...

"Luke! Luke, wake up!" He was being shaken and he reached out to grab handfuls of cloth in his fists. What was it? Where? He didn't know. He didn't understand. He was still screaming, wanting to escape this horrible thing but he couldn't. So he stopped.

"Luke?" As abruptly as he had began, the boy stopped screaming and sagged into Kenobi's arms. Frantically, he checked the boy's pulse and breathing. They were all normal, but he didn't respond to any stimuli, not poking nor slapping nor shaking nor pinching. 'Owen would never forgive me for this,' he thought, 'but it could be the only way.' Touching Luke's temples lightly with his fingers, he entered the boy's mind and began to search.

Luke was a maze of colors and lights and sounds, jumbled with the activity and wonder of a young boy, but tempered with the fire of someone forced to grow up too soon. But everything was muted. All activity had ceased. The beacon of light that the boy projected had gone out and he was shrouded in darkness. Obi Wan moved forward, stumbling through the shadows, his eyes following the faint spark in the distance. It seemed to grow dimmer as he moved closer, until finally he found Luke, sitting by himself, with a glowbug cupped in his hands.

"Luke," he held out his hand to the boy. "It's time to come out now."

"I can't."

"Of course you can. I'll show you how. Don't be afraid."

"No, I can't." There was terror in the boy's voice, and he couldn't seem to take his eyes from the glowing bug in his hands.

Obi Wan crouched at eye level with the boy. "Why not? What's wrong?"

"The man in black. He killed my father and he tried to take me away, so I came in here. It's safe in here," Luke whispered.

The man in black? No. There was no way for Luke to know anything about that. The Force was working unconsciously within him. Visions from Padme', perhaps, but nothing the boy could actually know. All he could do was to calm his fears.

"Luke, that was just a dream. It was your fear working against you. You can control that."

"But it seemed so real. I couldn't stop it."

"That's because you don't know how to control yourself yet. You're still young, but that will come with time. You're a strong, brave boy, and you know how to take care of yourself. How else could you have survived long enough for me to find you?"

"My father helped me."

"Your father will always be there to help you. He lives inside of you. You're so like him. Both of you could pilot a ship the minute you were put into it. He gave you everything he could, including his name. I know he would have loved you from the moment he saw you, and would have been proud to share that with you.

"But that's not what Fixer said."

"But Fixer doesn't know you. He was just baiting you. You can't let him get to you, Luke. You can't let him make you angry. He's not worth it."

"But he did anyway. He made me so angry that I wanted to kill him, and I almost did. It was an accident. Really."

"Luke..." So young, and already unconsciously using the Dark Side. Was this his fault, too? Would he be responsible for even more suffering? Luke obviously felt guilty about it; that, at least was something positive. "Luke, you let your anger control you, just like you let your fear control you in your dream. I know the boy infuriates you, but you can't let him get to you. Learn to take your anger and fear and control it. Use it to focus yourself, but never, never lash out with it. A wise one, wiser than me, once said that fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering. Do you know how true that is, Luke?" The boy nodded. "The light I saw inside of you was incredible, Luke. It was so bright and clean, and it shone with the brilliance of a thousand stars. Anakin gave that to you, Luke, and he wouldn't want you to stay trapped in here among the shadows. He would want you out there, laughing and playing and having fun. So why don't you come out? Please?"

Luke looked up at Obi Wan, then looked down at the glowbug in his hands. He opened them up and watched it fly away, it's light filling every corner and crack of his soul. He laughed out loud, then took Obi Wan's offered hand and led the older man out.

The next morning, Obi Wan used a map to find his way back to the Lars' moisture farm. On the way, he explained to Luke, in basic terms, the advantages of using your inner focus rather than your anger and spontaneous emotions. Luke was exhausted, but he kept on without complaining. When they were within sight of his home, however. Obi Wan stopped. "You go on without me, Luke. I don't think your uncle would be too happy if I walked up to the door with you," he said with a dry smile.

"But why?"

"Let's just say we've had our differences over the years. But I know he cares about you and wants the best for you, and that's enough for me."

Luke was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Will I ever see you again?"

Inwardly, Obi Wan both smiled and frowned. Eerie, almost, how like Anakin the boy was. What does your heart tell you, young Skywalker? "I'm sure you will, someday. Don't worry. I'll always be watching over you, just like your father."

"I don't even know your name."

The old man smiled. "You can call me Ben."

Luke looked into his eyes for a minute, and it seemed as if he looked through into his soul. "Thank you," he said solemnly, then he turned and jogged back to his house, where his aunt and uncle were waiting to take him inside and scold him with the fervor of parents who have been given a second chance. As Beru lead Luke into the house with her arm around him protectively, Owen turned and looked at his brother standing on the horizon, waiting, watching. He flashed a salute in thanks, then watched as Kenobi returned it and began walking back the way he came.

The next day in school, Miss Dickson called Luke to the front of the class to explain his absence and give the report on his family that he had missed from the day before.

"I spent the night in a cave in the desert-that's why I wasn't here yesterday. I got lost and the sandstorm came up, but one of my father's friends found me and helped me."

"Why would he want to help a loser like you?" Fixer shouted from the back of the room. "I can't imagine he would like you any more than your bum of a father would."

Luke felt the anger rising, then remembered what Ben had told him. 'It doesn't matter,' he thought. He turned to the teacher. "May I give my report now, please?"

"Yes, Luke," she said, disappointed that another fight had not broken out.

"My name is Luke Skywalker," he read. "I don't know where I was born, but I've lived on Tatooine with my aunt and uncle all my life. They raised me, and they're my parents now. Uncle Owen is kind of mean sometimes, but I know he wants the best for me. Aunt Beru is always very kind, but she seems sad sometimes. I don't know why. My real father's name is Anakin Skywalker-''

"Excuse me Luke, but don't you mean 'was'?" Miss Dickson interrupted.

"No, ma'am. I mean 'is'."

"But isn't your father dead?"

"Yes, ma'am. He is."

"So then, you mean 'was'."

"No, I mean 'is'. He died before I was born, but he lives inside of me. He gave me everything he had in him to give. A friend told me that Father was a great pilot, so I guess that's where I got that from. He told me that my father was the most caring man he had ever met and that he would have loved me the moment he saw me. He gave me everything he had in him, but what I love most of all, is that my father gave me his name." He looked at the class for a moment, unsure of what to do next, then sat down abruptly.

Miss Dickson sat still, mildly shocked at the strength of the boy, until Cammie spoke up "Um...shouldn't we get started...or something?"

Epilogue

"The Emperor has been expecting you," said the man in black, like something out of a nightmare.

"I know, Father." A barely perceptible pause, but in it a world of dreams and hopes came to head.

"So, you have excepted the truth," he gloated.

"I have excepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father," Luke said defiantly. No one could take that away from him. Not even the creature his father had become.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me."

"It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten. I know there is good in you. The Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully. That was why you couldn't destroy me. That's why you won't bring me to your Emperor now." There was pleading in the words. To have his father so close to him, yet so far, was almost unbearable. He heard the snaphiss of his lightsaber igniting, and tensed. Yet somehow he knew that his father would not kill him, just as he knew on that long ago day that his father would help him and watch over him in his time of need.

"I see you have constructed a new lightsaber. Your skills are complete. Indeed, you are powerful, as the Emperor has foreseen."

Luke turned, reaching out with all the love and longing he had always felt. "Come with me."

"Obi Wan once thought as you do."

"That's because he cared about you. The things he said about you-you were like a god to me. I wanted to be just like you. I hope I am."

"You don't know the power of the dark side. I must obey my master."

"I will not turn...and you'll be forced to kill me."

"If that is your destiny." It was an evasive answer, Luke knew. His father would not kill him. And if he did die at Vader's hands, it would still not be his father who had killed him.

"Search your feelings, father," he said. "You can't do this. Vader, perhaps, but not you."

"You are speaking to someone who no longer exists."

"No, father. I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate!"

"It is too late for me, son. The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master now."

Luke looked at the man in front of him for a long time. Maybe his dream had come true. "Then my father is truly dead. But I carry his name, and he will live inside of me for as long as I'm still here. If you want to destroy him, you'll have to destroy me with him. My father gave me his name, and no one can take that away from me. Not you, not your Emperor, nobody."

With a new determination in his step, Luke turned and walked to the waiting group of stormtroopers, prepared to do battle in his father's name, and once and for all, to make him proud.