Luke Skywalker used to find his Uncle Owen impossible to reason with as a youngster. But it is his model he turns to as a father himself. Do the sins of the father/ father figure truly get passed on through the generations?

A/N: I've always felt the Lars played a bigger role in Luke's life than they've ever been given credit for. To me, they're the greatest unsung heroes in the SW-verse. Combined tribute-fic, where Owen's shadow can distinctly be felt in the background, while also being a troubled moment in the life of the Skywalker family.

This is a two-part fic.

Part I

Young Ben Skywalker sat on the living room couch in disgrace while his mother, too angry and disappointed in him to even speak, paced the room impatiently, awaiting the impending arrival of his father. It was a meeting Ben was not looking forward to in the least. He fidgeted nervously, shifting restlessly in his seat, but too afraid to get up or make a sound. He could feel his throat slowly going dry with fear. Never had he seen his mother project such an image of fury at him.
Hooboy.
He was really in for it this time.

It had started innocuously enough, as all these things start. He had been playing smash-ball in a playground nearby with some other kids, a few years older than him. At one point he scored a close run which was called out by one of the more belligerent of the kids. A huddle had formed around a high-pitched argument as to whether the run should be allowed or not. Words had been thrown around in various tongues and tempers had grown more and more heated. Finally the bigger boy had really lost it, called Ben a cheater, among other more abusive things, and shoved him in the chest so that he'd fallen backwards into the dust. And then something had snapped. A burning heat he could not control had flared in his chest and almost without thinking, he'd extended a hand and his full power, grasping the older boy round the neck, lifting him off the ground and flinging him a distance of a few feet. And all without even touching him!
All of a sudden, the atmosphere had become very tense. He had revealed himself to be a Force-sensitive, not only powerful, but maybe also vengeful. The other boys had all fallen silent and, muttering to themselves, had backed off and slipped away, darting angry glances back at him from time time to time, tinged with fear.
Ben had sat there, trembling for a while at the magnitude of what he'd just done, clenching and unclenching his hand. Finally he had gotten shakily to his feet and rushed back home, only to find his mother and break down and confess everything.

Mara Jade Skywalker had listened to her son's confession, her eyes growing very wide and her lips pressing together very firmly. Ben could hardly be coaxed into touching the Force, and here today, he'd employed it in anger, in a clear harnessing of its dark side!
The thought frightened her more than she could express, and her grip on her son's shoulders had tightened and she'd actually shaken him out of the distress his actions had caused her. She could tell Ben was afraid of the way his own powers had manifested themselves and this incident would only serve to fuel his continuing withdrawal from the Force, but she had not been able to trust herself to respond to this situation with the calmness and composure it needed so as not to discourage the boy further.
No. There was only one person who could be depended upon to take charge of such a crisis. Mara had let her son go only to pick up her comlink and dial her husband's frequency. Poor little Ben hadn't said a word, his face becoming more miserable even though he'd bravely tried to keep his lip from trembling or his eyes from tearing up.

The faint chime of the door sounded just before it whooshed open to reveal Ben's father, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. His normally composed visage betrayed only a trace of confusion at the urgency with which his wife had summoned him home, and he looked from mother to son questioningly as to its cause.
Ben sat rigidly on the couch, in a posture of frozen attentiveness, while Mara faced him, a lot of turmoil held in tight-fisted control. Her eyes bored into his, their brilliant green unusually frigid.
"Skywalker," she began, in a brittle voice, "I believe you need to have a talk with your son."

He was forced to confess it all over again, his voice low and sullen, his eyes firmly riveted to the carpet, afraid to look up because of the disappointment he knew that awaited him in his parents' eyes.
He kept looking down even after he had finished, and the silence among the three stretched with every ticking minute.

Luke leaned back with a sigh against the back of the couch. He passed a hand wearily over his face and tried to catch his wife's eye. She was looking at her son with a strange sadness that told him she was wondering how much she might be to blame for his instinctive harnessing of the dark. He was about to reach out and reassure her, when she stood abruptly.
"I think you two should talk alone. I'll be inside."
Father and son involuntarily caught each others' eye, blue locking on blue.

What would Uncle Owen have done? Luke caught himself thinking, suddenly.
He wondered with a pang whether his own eyes had looked similarly frightened when facing his uncle as his son's did when facing him.

Uncle Owen would have sighed and been terribly disappointed, maybe even giving me a cuff for good measure.

Luke knew he would never lift a hand upon his son, but he was still required to address this. Had he been as much trouble as a young child as Ben was turning out to be?
Perhaps he had. Maybe his uncle had been right to be frustrated with him all those years ago, just as he found himself unaccountably frustrated at times with his own boy.

There was a lecture coming, Ben could just feel it. He had to exercise incredible self-control to keep from squirming beneath his father's rational gaze. He hated it when he looked at him like that! Why couldn't he just yell at him and get it over with, like normal dads did?! Why did he have to turn everything into a Jedi lesson?

"You understand that what you did was wrong, don't you?" he began in that carefully measured tone Ben had come to hate. Well, there was nothing for it but to sit through this.

"Yessir."

Luke flicked his gaze to his son, not liking the sullenness still remaining within his tone.
"Do you realize why your mom and I are saying it was wrong?"

"Yessir."

Luke was trying to be patient.
"And what do you think that might be?"

Ben dragged a toe along the carpet.
"Coz I got mad and used the Force in anger."

"That was wrong."

"But Dad! He pushed me first! He was the one saying all the mean things!"

"Still. You didn't need to stoop to his level. Violence can never be defeated with violence, Ben. You didn't play fair. You took advantage of a power he could never have access to."

Ben's face was set in an ominous glower at his father's rebuke.

"Not to mention that you used it to perpetrate violence! You hardly touch the Force, Ben. And the one time you do, you call on it in rage?"
Luke shook his head.
"That's not what Jedi do."

Ben folded his arms across his chest.
"Jacen says it's no good having power if you don't make use of it."

Luke paused to think. Something within him didn't like the way Jacen had chosen to explain the Force to his son.
"You don't have to make use of power only to hurt others, Ben. You could use it to do good. As a Jedi, that is what would be expected of you."

"But I'm not a Jedi."

Luke was shocked.
"What?"

"I- I'm not a Jedi... Not yet... am I?"

Luke relaxed a bit.
"Not formally, not yet. But you are strong in the Force. You will be a Jedi when you grow up."

Something flared within Ben again on hearing the certainty in his father's voice, and he blurted out before he could stop himself.
"But what if I don't want to?!"

"Don't...want to?!"
Luke was very nearly speechless.
"What...what are you talking about, Ben?"

Ben swallowed in a dry throat, trying to maintain eye-contact with his father, but not being entirely successful in that respect.
"Wh-what if I don't want to be a Jedi, Dad?" he asked with trepidation.

Luke was simply baffled.
"But why wouldn't you want to be? Your mom and I are. Aunt Leia is. Jaina and Jacen are Jedi too."

Ben frowned, his childish mouth settling in a pout.
"I'd rather be like Uncle Han. He doesn't need the Force. If he can do it, why can't I? I don't mind doing things the hard way."

Luke was beginning to grow irritated.
"Ben, Uncle Han doesn't have the Force. You do."

"I never wanted it."

Luke was forced to take a very deep breath to try and maintain his calm. He couldn't have Ben thinking that his violent use of the Force had been justified. But he had a feeling he was failing at proving that it had been wrong.

"Well, I'm very sorry you feel that way, son. You were born with it. One of the very privileged few in the galaxy who have access to Force-sensitivity. You ought to be honoured by it. It is a precious gift. Not kick it in the face as you're doing now."

Ben's young eyes blazed in a manner his mother's often did when she was enraged.
"It's not a gift! I hate it! All the Force can do is bring trouble! I don't want to be a Jedi! I don't want to have the Force!"

"Ben!"
Luke could not stop himself from raising his voice.
"That's enough! We've tried to be patient with you, but you have to break this absurd fear you have of the Force! It's high time you started classes at the Academy like the other padawans. I'm going to make arrangements. You're starting there tomorrow and that's all I want to hear about that! Do I make myself clear?"

Ben's face was set in an oddly adult way, his jaw clenched tight even though a raging fire burned behind the cerulean of his eyes.
"Yessir."

He got up to leave, then abruptly stopped, turning once more to face his father.

"Do you really want me to be a Jedi, Dad?"
His tone was surprisingly quiet and steady, sounding older than his years, but Luke could almost feel the same heat suppressed in it as was held in his eyes.

"Yes, of course I do."

"Are you sure?"
Still that unnerving gravity.
"Because a lot of the time it feels like all you want me to be is you."

It hit home.
Luke sagged back against the couch, gazing in disbelief at his son.

Ben turned to leave.

"Ben."
His father's voice sounded weary and defeated.
"Where are you going?"

"Looks like I'm going nowhere."