This is a new story idea I had, and is basically a bunch of oneshots exploring the Skywalker family, both when their being functional, and when they're. . . not.
Mainly not. Hence the title.
Most of the chapters won't be anywhere near as long as this one. I don't even know what the backstory behind this is, I know it's entirely implausible in the universe, but the backstory isn't really important. I just wanted to write Rey meeting the Skywalkers - all of the Skywalkers - and so that's what I did.
And no, "Misbegots" technically isn't a word. Yes, I'm using it as a chapter title anyway.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.
Rey was already fidgeting in the co-pilot's seat when Luke pulled them out of hyperspace, and the grey surface of the planet materialised into existence beyond the viewport. His shoulders were just as tense, and perhaps that should've been her first warning. Luke was always excited whenever he talked about visiting family.
She'd known him for five years - since she was eight, and he'd crash landed on Jakku and run into her - and that was the very first thing anyone ever learned about him: Luke Skywalker loved his family.
That he should be anxious now never boded well.
He was speaking into the comlink now, after a surreptitious glance at her. She caught it, and held it even as he spoke. "We're just coming in for landing, Leia. . . No, I'm not planning on letting that happen. . . I flew well enough to blow up the Death Star! Have a little faith!"
Rey heard the ghost of a woman's laugher echo over the comlink, then static as the person on the other end cut off. Luke glanced over at her. "You ready, sunshine?"
The nickname was one he'd given her in the first year of their acquaintance, saying they were children of the desert, and that he was lucky he hadn't nicknamed her "sandy". In all honesty, she liked the name.
She took a deep breath, suddenly more nervous than excited. Maybe it was intuition, maybe it was that Force Rey was almost convinced Luke wasn't making up, but she had an intense feeling of foreboding.
An intense feeling that this meeting wouldn't be what she expected.
She tried to smile. "As I'll ever be."
.
Things started seeming a little bit off from pretty much the moment Luke's relatives opened the door, to be honest.
Apparently they were staying on this particular planet only temporarily, as half the time Leia Organa - someone who Rey now realised she had no idea about her relation to Luke, besides old legends and stories whispered on Jakku and by Luke himself - was needed on Hosnian Prime. Apparently them staying in this hotel was the prearranged meeting point for the so called "family gathering" to take place, because it was accessible to everyone relatively easily.
Rey thought she heard Luke mutter something about exile, but she had no idea what it meant, so she filed it to be puzzled over at a later date.
The door to the hotel suite was opened by a sulky-looking young man, somewhere in his early twenties, with dark hair and an eerie-looking mask clutched in his right hand. Rey saw Luke noticed this at the same time she did, and he didn't bother to try and hide his eye roll, but did smile somewhat genuinely at the younger man as he greeted, "Hello, Ben."
Ben muttered something which may have been a hello, then slunk away just as loud footsteps rattled against the floor behind him, though not without giving Rey a deeply suspicious glare. She got the sense he was, quite frankly, an overgrown brat.
"Ben, say hello to your uncle, don't be rude," chastised a female voice that was vaguely familiar to Rey from years of glitchy recordings on the holonet and having rung out of the comlink just a few minutes before. The woman who came into view wore fairly simple attire, with a single elaborate ring on one finger, and had greying brown hair braided over the crown of her head. General Organa - because of course that's who she was - smiled brightly at Luke, and then down at Rey. "You must be Rey! I've heard so much about you. Come in."
She opened the door wider and stood aside to let them pass. Luke went first, and Rey was half a step behind him so she heard it clear as day when General Organa commented wryly to Luke, "Took you long enough to get here."
Luke tossed her a wry grin of his own. "Not everyone pilots ships that can make the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs."
"Twelve!" an affronted voice from further inside shouted. Luke's face seemed to split in two with the force of his smile, and with a quick squeeze of the General's shoulder he slipped past her into the hotel room.
Rey followed suit, and found herself exchanging stiff greetings with the General as she sidled past; the woman seemed determined to be as warm and kind as possible, and most of Rey relaxed in the presence of that kindness, but there was still that part of her screaming that This is the woman you always looked up to on the holonet and She is a war hero and a politician and above you in every way, making her eyes slightly downcast and her voice quiet as she said, "It's nice to meet you, General Organa."
The woman's lips pursed momentarily, and for a panicked moment Rey thought she'd read her mind - Force knew Luke had accidentally done it often enough before he'd taught her how to shield - but the expression soon softened into a smile. "Please, sweetheart, call me Leia."
Call a galactic heroine by their first name. Call one of her heroes by their first name-
"You call Luke by his first name, don't you?"
Rey's eyes flashed up to the General's - Leia's. Kriff, I must've forgotten to shield. "Yes, ma'am."
Perhaps the honorific was a mistake, but the tension in Rey's shoulder unwound itself as Leia crinkled her nose in an expression of disgust that looked incredibly similar to Luke's. And Luke just screamed approachable so the familiar expression on such an unapproachable figure made her relax significantly. "Please, no," Leia laughed. "I get enough of that in the Senate - Evaan occasionally says it nowadays just to annoy me. We're family now, aren't we?"
Rey wondered if the hitch in her breathing was obvious as her heart stuttered at the word. Family.
She had a family.
"I suppose we are, Leia," she smiled, and a warm feeling sank in her gut as Leia smiled back.
"Well then, you've met Ben, and I'm sure Luke and Han have had sufficient time to rant at each other by now," the woman said. "Let's not linger in the entryway any longer; you've still got everyone else to meet!"
.
In what seemed to act as some sort of living room, it appeared that Luke and who Rey assumed Han was hadn't finished their enthusiastic rant at each other, even as Luke gesticulated particularly wildly with his hands and smacked the Wookiee sitting next to him by accident. "Sorry, Chewie," Rey's adoptive father said, patting the Wookiee on the arm. Chewie roared his forgiveness in Shyriiwook.
Han's languid posture seemed to straighten minutely as he looked away from his friends, fighting a smile, and at Leia. Leia raised an eyebrow, and tilted her head at Rey, who fidgeted under the man's sudden gaze.
"You're Rey, right?" he asked, frowning slightly, like the words had come out slightly wrong.
Rey straightened her back at them nonetheless, and that deep-level sarcastic scorn that she knew was buried deep down reared its head. "Well, I didn't think Luke had adopted two daughters," she snapped in reply, only for a blush to consume her face when he raised an eyebrow.
He didn't get angry, though - not in the way Unkar Plutt would. Instead, he burst out laughing. "Nice to meet you, kid." He grinned - this family seemed to be grins all round. "I'm Han Solo."
Han Solo.
Han Solo.
"Han Solo? The smuggler?" she said, before she could stop herself, an intense excitement dampening down her earlier irritation. Luke's words from when they'd stepped in the door suddenly made sense. "The one who made the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs?"
"See?" Han gestured at her but he wasn't talking to her; he was glaring daggers at Luke. "Twelve. If she knows the correct number, shouldn't you? The Falcon has saved your life enough times, hasn't she?"
Luke merely smiled that fond but annoyingly cryptic smile of his, and went back to whatever conversation he'd been having with Chewie.
"So, where're you from to've heard of me as a smuggler before a general?" Han asked Rey, who froze. General as well?
"I'm from Jakku. The spacers who visited Unkar Plutt's junkyard would occasionally mention stories about you."
"Unkar Plutt?" Han grimaced. "I hate that guy. A right-"
"Language," said Leia from across the room.
"Sorry. Either way, he's a piece of work. You talk to him often?"
She barely managed to nod. "I worked in the junkyard. My family left me with him on Jakku when I was small."
He froze at that, and his gaze ran right the way over her, from the sun-bleached beige robes to the desert tan to the way she sat on the edge of her seat, like she was ready to bolt at a moment's notice. The way her weight was automatically titled to the left, to make up for the staff she usually carried on her right - Luke had said they wouldn't mind her carrying it inside, but she'd chosen to leave it in the ship anyway.
Finally, he said, "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Must've been a rough life." He paused, then added, "My family wasn't the best, either - it doesn't matter. You keep moving, right? I bet you got off that planet the first chance you could."
For some reason, that comment riled her up far more than Han intended it to. It brought her back to when Luke had first asked her, years ago, during that first meeting, whether or not she wanted to leave the planet with him.
I'm waiting for my family, she'd informed him haughtily. They'll be back.
He'd smiled, said goodbye, promised to visit, and left.
He made sure she always knew the offer to take her off-planet still stood, but never pushed it again, on none of the many visits he'd made. She'd always gotten the sense that he understood what it was like to have that sort of faith, and he didn't want to be the one to tell her it was unfounded.
In the end, that had been what convinced her to leave. That Luke, who had no obligation towards her, returned time and time again to visit, that he always came back, and her parents, who were responsible for her. . . didn't.
She'd thought the wound left from ripping herself away from Jakku had scabbed over - and perhaps it had. But Han's words just opened it anew,
"I'm a pilot." Her voice was hard. "I learned how to fly in the simulators in the junkyard. If I'd wanted to leave, I could have. I was waiting for my family to come back."
Han's shock made her even angrier. "You never gave up on them? After they left you?"
"They're my family," she bit out, shoving herself to her feet. "Of course I didn't. That's what loyalty is."
She didn't look to see the apology on Han's face, the mortification on Leia's, nor the concern on Luke's. She didn't hear the hissed admonition of "Han!" the General gave. She was gone too soon.
.
"You must be Rey," said a warm but unfamiliar voice.
Rey looked up as the door creaked open, letting in a bar of light that fell across the bedsheets. After she'd shouted at Han, she'd stormed down the corridor of the suite - it was much larger than she'd originally thought - and blindly fumbled for the first door she could see through her tears. It had turned out to be an unused bedroom, presumably meant for her or Luke, and she'd flung herself onto the bed and sobbed.
She hadn't cried yet - hadn't let herself cry yet, wouldn't upset Luke like that - but she did now.
Because she'd given up.
Even if her family did come back (they're never coming back, they're never coming back, they're never coming back) it wouldn't matter now because she'd given up.
She hated herself for her lack of faith, for her weakness. She was a terrible daughter.
I gave up.
She'd lain there for a while, ignoring the muffled shouted argument she could distantly hear coming from the living room, and just let herself cry.
Now, she hastily scrubbed at her face with the edge of her robes as a woman, who looked to be about seventy years old but with a youthful vigour that seemed to spit in Time's face, peered through the crack in the door. Her hair was pulled back from her face in an elaborate hairdo, and Rey could see she must have been a very beautiful woman when she was younger.
"Who are you?" Rey croaked, her eyes and voice puffy from tears.
The woman seemed to take it as permission to come in; she stepped through the door and closed it behind her, flicked the light switch, then perched on the edge of the bed. "I'm Padmé Naberrie - Luke's mother," she replied. "I understand you were raised on Jakku?"
Rey nodded mutely, then a thought hit her. "I thought Luke said he was raised by his aunt and uncle? That they were-" She swallowed as she thought of the pain in his eyes, and the way he'd stared at the horizon like he could see the homestead burning before his very eyes.
Padmé's mouth quirked sideways in a sad smile. "Owen Lars was my husband's step-brother - Beru was his wife. I only met them once, but I know they must have been wonderful people to have raised Luke - to whom they had no obligation - at all, let alone teach him to be the wonderful man he is today."
And there was that word again. Obligation.
Parents ignoring their obligation and strangers fulfilling it for them.
"You didn't raise him?"
Padmé shook her head. "I was- very ill, shortly after his birth. I had to go to my own family to recuperate, and I was nowhere near capable of looking after two children. They were separated - for their own safety; it was during the reign of the Emperor, and they were two powerful Force-sensitives - so Luke was raised by his father's remaining family, while Leia was adopted by a friend of mine."
"Leia?" Rey hiccupped the word, but her tears were starting to run dry now.
"Yes. Leia and Luke are twins," Padmé told her. "They don't look it, I know, but. . . Luke looks like Anakin, and I like to think Leia looks a bit like me, don't you think?"
Rey looked at Padmé, at the silver hair that must've once been brown, at the shape of eyes and their rich colour, at the purse of her lips and the swoop of her eyebrows. "Yes," she admitted. "You do."
Leia looked very much like her mother.
Whereas Rey could no longer remember her mother's face, and never would - not now that she'd given up.
The thought brought a fresh onslaught of tears, along with a hollow loneliness that could only be felt by someone with no roots, and nothing to return to should she look back.
She didn't realise she'd started sobbing again until she felt Padmé's hand on her shoulder, rubbing in gentle, soothing circles. Rey had a bizarre thought: for someone who'd lost her chance to be a mother, Padmé was extremely good at it.
"There, now," the woman murmured. "What's wrong?"
"My family." Rey choked on the words. "They never came back. I was waiting for them to come back. And now- I've given up. I'll never see them again. And I-" She took a breath. "When they come back, won't they see that I'm not there, and see what a faithless daughter I am? What an awful person? I'll never see them again," she whispered. "And it's my fault."
Padmé was silent for a moment, then she stopped rubbing Rey's shoulder, and folded the younger girl into an embrace instead. "You will feel that way for the rest of your life," she said. "And you will always wonder what would have happened if you'd stayed. So I will tell you: You would have stayed on that planet, until someone made you leave, or you would have wasted away there.
"Rey, look at me." She pulled away and took Rey's chin in her hand. "Deep down, you already know the truth. That whoever left you on Jakku," Rey's eyes were leaking tears again, "they are never coming back."
"Luke did," Rey whispered. "That was what inspired me to leave - Luke kept coming back. So why couldn't they?"
"I can't answer that for you," Padmé told her. "No one can. And maybe you will never know. The truth is hard," her voice seemed to grow stronger at that, "but sometimes, it's what you need to hear."
"How did you know that's what I needed to hear?" Rey asked, despite herself. She was curious - curious about this strong woman, and desperate to chase away the memories of her mother's blurry face above her, of her father's hands lifting her to the sky- "How do you know exactly what to say?"
Padmé's smile turned more mischievous. "I was the Queen and Senator of Naboo respectively during the days of the Old Republic. Talking to people was my job. I know when people need to hear the truth." She paused, then added, "Even when it seems so astronomical that no one believes it."
There was a flicker of sound in Rey's mind - despite the fact that she was shielding heavily, as was, no doubt, Padmé, she could've sworn she heard a desperate plea of ages past. There is still good in him.
But it was gone too soon for her to examine it.
"Are you feeling up to meeting any more of us?" Padmé asked, getting to her feet and holding out a hand. "I know my husband, for one, would be thrilled to meet you - Leia won't let him anywhere near Ben, but he's on good terms with Luke, and has heard a lot about you."
Rey looked at the proffered hand for a moment before she took it.
.
Padmé led her further down the corridor to where Anakin Skywalker had apparently been banished by his daughter. Rey decided not to ask about that particular story, and instead just followed the woman out of the room.
The grumpy man from earlier - Ben - seemed to have taken refuge amongst the bedrooms as well. He sidled out of his own door just as Padmé passed by, and despite the fact that she was shorter than he was, he was quite fast enough to duck the hand that ruffled his hair. "Hello, Ben," Padmé greeted fondly. "I don't suppose you and Rey have been properly introduced?"
Ben eyed her suspiciously, and Rey decided she didn't want to know him anymore than he wanted to know her. Nevertheless, she didn't want to disappoint Padmé, so she stuck out her hand. "I'm Rey."
"Rey?" he scoffed, even as he shook her hand briefly and let go like it was covered in slime. "Don't you have a last name?"
That one hit deep, just as he must've known it would; she narrowed her eyes at him. "No," she bit out curtly. "I don't, Ben Solo. Not all of us are born into famous bloodlines, with families who love us."
He just sneered at that, and stalked back down the corridor. Padmé watched him go with a sigh. "He's very. . . independent," she apologised. "Doesn't like his family, doesn't like new people, seems to like barely anyone, really. It's a shame; he was such a sweet boy when he was younger."
Rey just nodded along idly. She didn't like Ben Solo, and got the sense she never would. "Shall we go meet your husband, then - Anakin?"
Padmé gave a little jerk, like she'd just remembered, then she smiled, and nodded. "Of course. Right this way."
Two doors down (idly, Rey wondered why they had so many doors; surely there weren't this many people staying over?!) Padmé knocked softly, and a hoarse "Come in," had her pushing the door open and leading Rey through.
The man who looked up from whatever he was fiddling with in his lap did have certain similarities to Luke - the shape of the mouth, the cleft in his chin, the fierce blue of the eyes - but it was his differences she noticed first: Namely, the height and build of him, his baldness, and the sharpness of his facial structure. Not to mention the pasty skin visible beneath the transparent breathing mask that covered the bottom half of his face.
The man - Anakin - smiled at Padmé with such intensity Rey wanted to look away, like she was intruding on a private moment. Then those eyes moved onto her, and she found herself the subject of a smile nearly as warm. "I'm guessing you're Rey?" he said. She might have snapped at him, as she had at Han, but she was feeling strangely exhausted by al the crying she'd done. "My son's told me so much about you; it's nice to finally meet."
Padmé cleared her throat slightly, and he glanced at her, then glanced back at Rey, eyes wide. "Oh - right - sorry." He hastily dropped what it was his was fiddling with in his lap - screws and other spare parts, Rey noted; Luke's father indeed - and offered her his right hand. "I'm Anakin Skywalker - Luke's my son."
"I know." She thought that might have come off as rude, and both Anakin and Padmé seemed so nice, so she hastened to add: "Padmé mentioned it. I don't actually know anything else about anyone here; Luke didn't talk about his current family much." If it hurt to hear the subtle reference to Luke's parentless childhood, they didn't show it. "I have no idea how everyone's even related to each other."
Padmé frowned, but Anakin jumped in. "Luke and Leia are twins, mine and Padmé's children. Han is married to Leia, and Ben is their son. Chewie is Han's co-pilot and best friend - Ben's godfather, I believe."
Rey creased her brows briefly, then nodded. "Then. . . Padmé mentioned something about you and Leia being on poor terms? Why is that?"
She regretted the question the moment it came out. Padmé paled, and shifted nervously on her feet, and Anakin gave a bitter laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit. It was he who said, "There is some. . . bad blood. . . between us. We met before we knew we were father and daughter - I never knew my children had survived until they were twenty years old. I never knew Padmé had survived either."
Survived what? Rey wondered. She didn't voice the question aloud, though; she'd ask Luke later. She seemed to have brought up enough sensitive topics among these people as it was.
Anakin was still talking. "And. . . well." He chuckled bitterly again. "Leia wasn't exactly fond of Dar-"
"Ani," Padmé said, and there was warning in her voice. Rey blinked at the weighted stares the couple were exchanging; her skin crawled in a way that told her she'd just lost a vital piece of information that would help her make sense of this strange, strange family. "We needn't go into that." Let Luke do it, her pointed look said. Let Luke explain.
Anakin's eyes shuttered, and he folded his hands in his lap. They weren't even fiddling with the spare parts anymore; they were completely still. "As you wish."
.
Rey took to helping Anakin finish repairing the hotel's holoscreen remote, which he'd apparently stood on, broken, and tried to fix. Padmé left them alone to go and "Catch up with my daughter," or something along those lines, and conversation flowed relatively easily between the two of them at first, mainly concerning mechanics and the old, outdated Republic models Rey had occasionally come across in the junkyard.
It wasn't long before there was another knock on the door, and though Anakin tensed initially, the Force presence that was familiar to both of them had him relaxing, his lips tugging into a grin as he called out, "Come in."
Luke slipped in, and offered them both a smile. "Leia sent me to apologise for Han upsetting you," he informed her briefly. He turned to Anakin, "I was just checking you weren't being driven mad in your solitude here, Father, while Mother challenges Chewie to 'who can remember the good old days the best.'"
Anakin tried to look affronted, but he just looked amused, "That, my son, is called this wonderful type of conversation known as 'reminiscing'. I'd expect you to be familiar with it; it's all you ever do whenever those raucous Rebel friends of yours come to call."
Luke shrugged. "Wedge and I have a lot to reminisce about." He looked over at Rey, and his smile turned softer. "You alright, sunshine? If anyone - any of this - gets too much, we can just go. I'll deal with Leia's wrath later."
Rey had to laugh, even as the thought of General Organa being angry didn't seem like a pleasant one. "No, it's fine," she admitted, rubbing the back of her head. "Han just. . . caught me off guard, that's all."
"If you're sure." Luke's gaze fell on the dismantled remote, and smothered a laugh. "Father, try not to reassemble everything in the suite. I'd rather not have to explain to the management staff why all of the holos are suddenly green instead of blue."
"No promises there, I'm afraid."
Luke ducked out of the door, though not without a laugh and a mock salute, which led to Anakin muttering humorously, barely audibly, "The Rebels never taught him proper decorum."
Rey frowned. "Were you not a member of the Rebels then?"
Anakin's hands froze where they fluttered over the remote. ". . .no," he admitted, with some difficulty. "I wasn't." He held the remote up to the light, ostensibly so he could see the inside of it better, but Rey suspected he was trying to avoid meeting her eye. "I fought for the Empire."
"You did?" There was something else here, some secret, but it eluded her.
Anakin shrugged. "Why do you think Leia dislikes me so much?"
.
The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. Rey made her peace with Han, had an interesting conversation with Chewie, and even got round to listening to Leia talk about what it was like in the Senate.
(Rey understood about half of what she said, but she appreciated it all the same.)
It all came to a head when Rey finally plucked up the courage to ask Ben what the mask he carried was.
Leia froze.
Han froze.
Chewie stopped mid-roar.
Even Luke and Padmé exchanged concerned glances, and gave minute sighs.
Rey had a really bad feeling about this.
Ben puffed up his chest. "It's like my grandfather's mask," he informed her, slightly haughtily, either ignorant to or dismissing his mother's stern commands to stop. "Not his current breathing mask, his old one. Darth Vader's."
Darth Vader. His grandfather.
If Anakin was Leia and Luke's father, then-
Leia wasn't exactly fond of Dar-
Dar-
Darth Vader.
She'd just spoken to perhaps the most infamous Sith Lord to ever live.
I fought for the Empire.
Why do you think Leia dislikes me so much?
"Ben," Han said, and so began a multi-person tirade that was far too loud and fast for Rey to even hope to keep up with. Ben was shouting, and Padmé was wincing, and Leia and Han looked furious, and Luke was tapping her shoulder and they were slipping away out the door.
"We'll be back in a few hours," he assured her as they boarded the ship again. "We just need them to cool down a bit. Darth Vader is always the elephant in the room in family reunions like this, and Ben's newfound fascination with him doesn't help."
"Darth Vader," Rey said, only half processing what she'd heard, "is your father."
Luke's calm belied the tension in his shoulders as he looked at her sideways. "Yes," he said simply. "Or rather - my father was Darth Vader, for a time."
He's still alive? He didn't die with the Empire and its Emperor? "Anakin - Padmé-"
"They had. . . a tragic love story." The words were heavy, even as Luke lifted the ship off the ground and they shot away. "During the Clone Wars. Before the Empire. Leia and I. . . we were born the day the Empire was created. That's why we were separated."
"To hide you from your father."
"To hide from everyone. The entire galaxy, practically."
"Your family," Rey took a deep breath, "is a soap opera."
Luke laughed. "That it is."
And it was. Divisive factions, dark and dangerous pasts, political opinions and misplaced trust had all served to tear them apart. It was as fascinating as it was mind-boggling.
Because. . . despite all that. . . the Skywalkers were still. . . Well, not functional, but together. Still met up, and greeted each other, and loved each other, and hated each other, and didn't try to deny the bonds of blood and marriage that tied them into such a storm.
What was it like, to feel such loyalty and know without a doubt that someone felt it in return?
"I'm honoured to be a part of it," she announced decisively.
Luke's shock was palpable, but he grinned soon afterwards, even as the planet curved away beneath them. "So am I."