Luke Skywalker exhaled and lay back in the field. He was currently on some mid-rim planet called Naboo. There was no reason for him to be there except that his X-Wing apparently decided that it wanted to be there and consequently refused to go any further until it landed and under went some repairs. Thus he was out in a field of flowers keeping some shaaks company and listening to a waterfall instead of helping the others rescue Han. He had told them to go on ahead.

He closed his eyes and tried to think of their rescue plan. But his thoughts, like his X-Wing, decided not to comply but wandered off to linger on the armored black specter that was Lord Vader. Vader – the killer of the Jedi, the right hand of the Emperor, one of the most feared men in the universe. His father.

Luke raised his new hand flexing it. The hand wasn't real. His father took his hand, and all of his fairy-tale dreams and childhood hopes as well. All gone in a flash of red and a voice booming the truth across the air vent. Maybe the first truth anyone had ever told him. Ben had certainly lied. Ben had said his father was a hero, a Jedi. Ben had given him something to fight for. Luke had wanted to prove so badly that he was worthy of his father that he could avenge the man, that he could make a war-hero proud. Now, what was left? He idly picked a flower and sat up. He looked at it, turning it over in his hands, not really seeing. The flower was dead now because he had picked it, but it still looked alive. He was the same way. He still looked the same, acted the same, but he was dead inside. The truth didn't hurt. The truth killed. He began to pluck the pedals off one by one. When the white flower was only a stem he tossed it aside and picked another one.

His father… what a laugh. He certainly didn't act like any father Luke knew. Vader didn't protect or teach unless he considered not having his men blow the Millennium Falcon out of the sky protecting and showing Luke why it was dangerous to duel someone so much better than him teaching.

"Darth Vader," Luke said, tasting the words, trying them out. What did they sound like? What did they mean? Could they sound like Father? Could they mean Father? He wondered if Vader did the same with his name, testing it. Did he even care? Could one such as Vader care for anyone?

"Don't you know yet?"

Luke looked up with a start into the eyes of a young girl. She was standing in the field of flowers, curly brown hair framing her face, peering at him with rich brown eyes. He blinked surprised both at her question and that he hadn't heard her before. He must have been deeper in his thoughts than he realized.

"What?"

"I said, don't you know yet? You've asked enough flowers," she gestured.

Luke looked over, surprised at the size of said pile. Had he really been sitting here that long?

"That's lot of flowers," he said to himself, noticing that he was holding a half-plucked one in his hand and tossing it away.

The girl looked at him strangely. "Why are you so surprised? You picked them, I watched you."

"I didn't realize how many flowers I had picked," he told the girl, a little annoyed, "I was thinking about… someone."

"Of course, that's what your supposed to do. You can't play thinking of no one. That would just be silly."

Luke had a feeling he was missing a piece of the puzzle. "I'm sorry, I don't know what game your talking about…."

"Ami," replied the child, plunking down beside him, "and if you're not playing than why are you killing the flowers?"

"I was thinking and not really concentrating," he looked for another topic besides what he had been thinking about, "do you like these flowers?"

"Oh yes, they're my favorite, though they became known as funeral flowers after Amidala died. They were her favorite so were woven into her hair. Now," she picked two more flowers, handing one to Luke and keeping one for herself, "I'll show you how to play the "Love You, Love You Not Game" ok?"

"The "Love You, Love You Not Game"?" Luke asked, studying the flower he had been given.

"Uh, huh. It's how you find out if someone loves you," she told him in a matter-of-fact way.

"Aren't you a little young for that," Luke asked, amused. The girl had to be six or seven years old at most.

She shot him a look. "It doesn't have to be that kind of love. I picked them one time to find out if Daddy still loved me after I broke his birthday present for Mommy and lied about it. And he did, just like they said," she nodded seriously.

Luke's breath had caught in his throat, to find out if Daddy still loved me… He got a hold of himself. He knew they couldn't really tell him about his father, but… he looked into the serious face of the child, there was no harm in playing. He had nothing else to do but think on Fath- Vader. And if he must think on the man he might as well play a child's game while doing so.

"Now," the little girl instructed, "you pull off the first petal and say, "he loves me"."

Luke dutifully did so.

"Then you pull off the next one and say, "he loves me not". And you keep going until you run out."

If anyone else had come upon the meadow they would have seen the Dark Lord's son and a brown haired girl dressed in faded gold sitting together in a Nubian field plucking petals. And one visitor, had he been there, would have recognized the field as one he had laughed in with his love a lifetime ago.

Luke glanced up wondering why such a young girl was out alone. Maybe she came from the lake house he passed earlier?

"He loves me!" she declared happily. Then she smiled up at him. "Do you know the answer now?"

Luke looked back at his own flower and yanked off the last with a, "he loves me". He sighed and really wished that flowers were means of confirming the truth. Suddenly Ami threw herself into his arms and held him with comforting warmth. He wrapped his arms around her in return as a sense of peace went to war with his fear.

"Don't worry. He loves you. He's just to broken to see it right now," she whispered in his ear. "There's good in him Luke. He still loves me, and he loves you. You'll see."

Peace flooded him before it occurred to him, "hang on, how do you know my name?"

Ami laughed at that and pulled back. Her dress was a shimmering blue now but before he could question her she pulled away and raced off. He got to his feet and followed her, but when he crested the hill she was gone. All that was left was an echo in a woman's voice.

"There's good in him. There is still…"