At night, Luke Skywalker could not fall asleep.
He lied down in this tiny bunk on his back, his arm stuck between his head and the pillow under his head. His eyes wide open, staring at the boring ceiling above them, replacing their basic visual with a universe of images flashing through his mind.
Images of life; images of death. He concluded that, by the end of the day, he wasn't exactly sure he had made the right choice by electing Leia's desire over his own. It had all been in the spur of the moment, lots of things had been said, lots of emotions had been confronted, and they both parted ways without addressing the elephant in the room again.
The inherent darkness that lived inside both of them.
The inherent darkness that abided in Darth Vader's children.
Luke Skywalker was restless. He struggled with everything he had done, all the people he had killed, all the destruction his course amidst the war had brought to the path he had walked on. He wondered if his good deeds had softened his bad deeds, or whether his bad deeds erased his good deeds.
He wondered what was his role in the great scheme of things. He wondered what was it that made him so irreplaceable.
Why did he have to be special? While did he have to be a hero? He didn't like it. He hadn't asked for it. His prestige as the galaxy's hero put him in a pedestal that he would not appreciate, not ever, because he also knew of the bad there was behind his good achievements.
The hero should have been someone else — someone like Leia, he supposed. Leia had the strange ability to put her duty first, and let the rest be damned. She would have killed Darth Vader and Palpatine in a heartbeat, without any hesitance, if she had been in his place. Leia would be able to discern the spared life of a few if it meant saving the galaxy from the clutches of evil.
She had done it with Alderaan — her own home planet! — and, although she would always carry the burden and blame for it, she never second-guessed it. He wished he could be more her.
He wasn't — maybe because he had a deeper connection with the Force. Maybe because he had forged a bond with everything that was life, and pledged himself with the promise of looking after everything alive. Whatever it was, he couldn't shake off the unbearable guilt of stealing the breath of other people.
Which was why he had been so determined to turn himself in. So he would seclude himself from society and dedicate some several years of his life making amends with his deeds. asking forgiveness to the Force for all the blood in his hand. To him, it didn't matter that those people were bad, or had done something morally dubious — everyone had their story and a drive that led them to where they got.
He didn't even dare to kill Darth Vader, despite all the harm he had caused during Palpatine's reign. Vader had, for sure, killed many more than Luke, than Luke could even depict. Vader had tortured Leia, and Han, and cut off Luke's own hand, and he still couldn't bring himself to see past the promise of good hidden somewhere within his soul.
Sure, he had been right. In the end, Anakin had come back to him and killed Palpatine to spare his son's life. Still, he had chosen the man he barely knew over his sister and the smuggler he considered his best friend. Maybe, his excessive goodness was his biggest flaw.
Except — he didn't think he was that good. A good person wouldn't kill, wouldn't as much as wield a weapon.
Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. Good people went to war, to stop bad people and their bad actions — if he would allow himself to see things in so black and white. Leia joined the war and she was a good person; even Han, with his ambiguous morality in the years of battle, was a good person. For the sake of the Force, why was everything so complicated?!
Luke had no idea what to do next. He had made a promise to Leia that he wouldn't turn himself in, and, back then, he had understood and conceded to her point of view. Now, in the span of half a day, he wasn't so sure. Of course, he wouldn't go as far as breaking his promise — no, Leia would view it as the ultimate betrayal of their kinship, and he wasn't ready to face the repercussions that that would bring, whatever they were. He understood that he would have to be content with the prison of his mind, and truth be told, that seemed equally terrifying, if not worse.
He thought of the latent darkness inside of him, and shivers washed over his entire body.
He thought of his plea to Leia, his begging request that she would terminate his life before he became someone he wouldn't recognize. He knew that Leia would never break her word, that she would put her duty, alongside the sake of the galaxy, over her personal needs and she would take his life, if it came to it. However, that notion brought him guilt, because he had brought her an unspeakable burden, and an unbearable heartbreak if she had to follow through with it. She had already lost so much to darkness, and then, she would lose her brother as well.
He thought of her own request to him — and how his heart beat faster inside of him when he remembered he had promised her he would do the same. Now, he was afraid he would only let her down. Although he couldn't visualize the day his sister would ever turn dark, he wasn't sure he would be able to terminate her, as she had asked him for. He hadn't been able to kill Vader, with whom he held no emotional attachments, then how was he supposed to take the life of his sister, one of the people he loved the most?
He was scared. He was scared of failure — terrified. He thought of his argument with Leia, earlier that day, and how they both had said dubious things — things that could only be explained by the inherent darkness in them. His anger at her refusal to accept his choice, a kind of anger he had never felt before, that made his blood boil and his hands clench in fists of hate. Her determination to abuse her political influence if it meant getting her way; a thirst to bend power to her will that he had never pictured her craving.
Their reactions scared him — were they nothing but Darth Vader's children?
No; he pushed the concept far away from his mind. They were Padmé's children, he was his mother's son! He was the child of a luminous being, one who only sparked with light and hope and forgiveness — and not an ounce of darkness to it. Padmé Amidala, the only person in their dysfunctional little family that possessed light and light only.
He was her son, first. He wanted to claim her legacy, not Vader's.
And then, there was Padmé — sith, he didn't even want to depict her reaction if he had gotten the chance to knock at her door and announce, "Hey, guess what, I'm going to prison!"
Grunting loudly to himself, he turned his body in bed and buried his head deep into the pillow; then, he grunted some more. Padmé would have been heartbroken. She had lost him, only to find him twenty years too late, only have him walk out on her, like the past month that they had known each other for had meant nothing. Nothing.
Leia's expression of betrayal had already been too much for him to bear. Padmé's potential demeanor of pain would most likely break him. He would be willingly putting her through yet another heartbreak, without any assurance that she would overcome it this time.
Worse — he would be leaving Padmé and Leia alone to deal with—whatever they had to deal with. Most of the time, he didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on between those two, and, most of the time, he chose to believe that ignorance was bliss. Both girls were big enough to diplomatically handle their own issues, although he recognized that more often than not he had worked as a mediator between them before either got the chance to say something that they would regret later. The idea of leaving them behind without him to be the one thing in common between them was — terrifying, to say the least.
Then again, it was a good thing he decided to stay. Perhaps, if he had indeed talked to Padmé, she would have used the same logic as his sister to walk him out of his insane idea — although, presumably, she would have been calmer and politer and less brutal about the whole matter. Ultimately, Padmé and Leia had more in common than they'd like to believe — than Leia would willingly admit. After all, they were the two people in the entire galaxy able to ground him. There was bound to have some merit in that.
He wondered, still, if Padmé would have been able to forgive him if he stepped away momentarily. Leia had made herself clear that she wouldn't even as much as look at his face again if he followed through with his crazy idea — when he had thought she would be supportive and maybe even come to visit! — and he desired to know if Padmé would react equally as bad. Maybe, he should run his idea with her anyway, to gather some perspective.
Chances were, she would either place her hand over his shoulder, give a tight squeeze and tell him that was not the right to redeem himself, or she would slap him in the face as angrily as Leia had. Either way, he was most likely to be put in his place.
Although — he didn't know what his place was. For the past four years, he had had one very clear task, which didn't allow him to divert his eyes away from the focus: bringing down the Empire and killing Darth Vader and Palpatine on the go. He had lived for that one achievement, and, in the end, he hadn't even managed to accomplish that achievement. The Empire had fallen, sure, Darth Vader and Palpatine were dead, sure, he had played a vital role in it all, sure — but he shouldn't be granted the title of hero when he hadn't been able to at least complete the duty he had been raised to fulfill.
He didn't regret his choices, though. Had he been given another opportunity, to rewrite the past, he would do it all over again. He would stand down to Darth Vader and gamble with his own life, if it meant that Anakin got to see the light again.
In the end — it had worked; barely, but it did. It had been worth it. It had every potential to end in a disaster, for Luke to draw his last breath in that second Death Star, and if that had happened, Luke would have lost his life to his father, and he would have never had the chance to meet the mother who had unconditionally and genuinely loved him since the day he was born, even if she didn't know of him.
He wouldn't dwell on it, though. He had learned the greatest lesson with his sister that he shouldn't waste his breath on a timeline that hadn't happened. He felt bad for it, though, because fate had been kind to him; it hadn't been to her.
He turned to his side, and his face was now squeezed between the hard mattress and the thin pillow, like a sandwich. His lifeless eyes stared at the lightsaber he had crafted from scratch a few months ago that rested on the night table, waiting for anything to happen. The lightsaber that he had had to fetch at Millennium Falcon, because it had been left — thrown there, really, with little respect — in the ship when they had rushed him to the medical bay, the previous night.
Conveniently, he had run into Han there. A very annoyed Han, who had spent a morning dealing with equally annoying politicians, trying to fix his messes, while his sister was busy dealing with his turmoils. At first, he was glad to see Luke, to know that he was seemingly alright. Then, once his initial relief was over, the smuggler gave him a smack in the back of the head.
Luke had dramatically mouthed ouch, but accepted the reprimand gracefully, especially after hearing Han's reasoning — Luke was more than allowed to throw his life away, to recklessly face danger if he desired, so long as he didn't drag Leia into it.
And then — there was Leia. His sister, who had saved him from death by delving into a power she had yet to fully grasp, and refused to talk about it. She didn't need to tell him anything, because Han was mad at him about that, and Padmé was mad at him about it, and he was well aware that he had, essentially, messed up.
With his heart taken by his guilt, he reached for his sister, trying to find her imprint in the Force. She had her defenses slightly lowered as she embarked her slumber, and he could feel some agitation from her end. He grimaced, understanding a nightmare was starting to haunt her. Although he dreaded the concept of breaching her privacy, he would rather be yelled at later if it meant she would get a good night of sleep; he touched her presence with harmony and held her tight until she was peaceful again.
Letting go of her, he sighed loudly and threw the pillow over his head far away to the floor, not bothering with the possibility of the single throw knocking something down. He didn't care about the material world — or waking up half the base with the big sound of something crashing — he cared about his sister, and how he had failed her.
He cared about his promise to Yoda, that he was ought to pass on what he had learned, and how he was mostly failing his Master, as well. The Emperor's purge had been meticulous; there weren't any children of the Force hidden across the galaxy, waiting for the day that the Force would welcome them in. No; to his knowledge, he and Leia had been the only fortunate ones.
He had found his strength in the Force, but Leia — the Force had forsaken Leia, it had strayed away the moments his sister needed it the most, and now the princess judged it to be the embodiment of everything bad.
Because the Force had mistreated her, when she had been under the mercy of their father, and it fell on Luke to guide her to the light. He couldn't do so when he ran off on his own selfishness and forced her to abuse of the Force that she feared the most.
He had let her down.
Leia abhorred the Force — although he understood it to be another word for being afraid. He didn't blame her when their father had been Darth Vader, the dark lord who tainted the rightness of the Force. Luke understood her, because, albeit she tried to conceal it more often than not, Leia thrived on her emotions, she embraced her passion to do the right thing, and she relied on her anger of the Empire, and of what the Empire had done to her, to fuel herself into building a new galaxy order from scratch.
Her emotions were her greatest asset — it wouldn't be right for him to take them away from her, would it?
Then again, there was always the possibility that Leia was right. If she were already right about everything else, why wouldn't she be about this as well? Maybe, the Jedi's greatest flaws were their refusal to feel, to allow themselves to be human, rather than consider themselves these larger than life beings. Maybe, if they only had let themselves to love and to be loved, to fear, to feel anger at the sight of injustice happening before them — maybe, Palpatine wouldn't have risen to power.
After all, the dark side was a choice. Not a consequence of those emotions.
Anakin Skywalker chose to turn to the dark side; no exterior force had indulged him into it. He made a choice, and the galaxy suffered the consequences of his deeds.
All because Anakin Skywalker chose to love too much.
Luke wouldn't make the same mistakes as his father, would he? Then, he thought of Padmé, of Leia, of Han, and he saw how far he was willing to go to protect them.
Because he chose to love them too much — would the galaxy suffer the same fate under his power?
Maybe the Jedi had been right, after all. Maybe his attachment to his family would be his doom.
As it had been Anakin's.
However — and his bad conscious wouldn't allow him to speak aloud about this — the little selfish part of his soul felt warm that, one day, someone had done everything in their power to save him from death, before he was even born. He felt loved to know that someone had unconditionally loved him to the point of threatening and killing in his name, before he was placed under Uncle Owen's carelessness.
In a way, he had repaid the debt of that kindness by refusing to kill Vader. Maybe he had done something right, in the name of love.
In the end, it had worked. Anakin Skywalker had come back to him.
Maybe, it fell to Luke's shoulders to follow Anakin's legacy. Maybe, his legacy would be to undo all the Jedi's wrongs, while praying he didn't do more harm than good himself.
Maybe, his purpose in this life was to make amends for his father's sins by restoring peace and order throughout the galaxy.
"Your father's sins are not yours to bear."
Luke had been so lost within his intrusive thoughts that the sound of someone calling for him gave him the start of his life — he had been lying so near the edge of the mattress that the alarming jump his accelerated heart caused him was enough to knock him out of his bed, landing on the floor with a loud clatter.
"Ouch," he mumbled under his breath, a painful grim taking over his expression as he rubbed his hand against his reddened buttocks.
Only when his heart had eased inside of him, and his body was past the initial shock, that Luke Skywalker dared to search the room for the source of the voice on his head.
And when he did, he could not believe his own eyes.
"Ben! Ben Kenobi!"
At first, he was unsure of how to react. It had been so long, so long since his old Master had last come to him — precisely, ever since the second Death Star came apart and he offered him one last bow of approval, as he stood next to Yoda and Anakin during the celebrations within the Ewoks. Now, his first instinct was to rush to his mentor and give him a tight hug of relief, for coming back when he needed the most — only to fall back at the realization that he could not hug a ghost.
"Luke."
His reply was short and succinct; capable of saying much more than whole sentences of words. His emotions were restrained, Obi-wan Kenobi bore his usual grace, one that had been acquired after many years of wisdom and solitude.
"Ben!" Luke squealed his name loudly once again, a little overly excited. He hopped onto his feet eagerly, aiding his motion with the Force to so swiftly stand again. "Ben… Why have you stopped coming to me? Have I let you down, Master?"
"On the contrary, Luke," Ben assured with his worn voice. "The living reign rejects nonsentient beings, it only embraces life and light. My presence here is an affront to vitality, and the more it passes, the stronger I become with the Force, and with the Force only."
Luke stared at him with his dove eyes, listening to his Master speak in awe.
"I no longer came to you, because you no longer needed me or my teachings. You've become a Jedi greater than I could ever be, and it is now your time to pledge to the galaxy an oath to serve and protect."
"But you came back," Luke stated the obvious, "You came back because you sensed I was troubled."
"Indeed the truth, Luke," Ben conceded, "Although I'm certain you no longer need my knowledge, that you have achieved a state of peace that all the Jedi once sought. You are strong enough to move on on your own."
"I fear that is far from the truth, Ben," Luke lamented, dropping himself back to his bed with a puff. "I've been seeking you, yet you did not respond."
"I am here now," he replied, walking freely in front of Luke, as if to prove his point. "You are not alone."
"That's the thing, isn't it?" the young Jedi provoked with little eloquence, burying his chin on the palm of his hand. "I am alone. I am the last of my kind, the last of the Jedi. There's no one there for me anymore, to support me, to guide me through my moments of need."
"You are the last Jedi, Luke, but you certainly are not alone."
Afraid to restore eye contact, Luke simply gazed at the floor, waiting for his mentor to elaborate. When he didn't, he was obliged to ask, "You mean, there are other Force sensitive sentients out there? That I must seek and instruct in the ways of the Force?"
"Yes," he nodded his head with conviction, "But more importantly than that, you have your own people. Your family. Do not turn your back on them, Luke, because they are your greatest strength. The Force aids you, but your loved ones are the foundation of your true power."
"I don't understand, Ben," Luke admitted, a little desperately. "I thought the Jedi were forbidden to love…! I thought that my father fell because he loved too much, because he was terrified of losing my mother and Leia and me and we became his doom."
Old Obi-wan Kenobi frowned, unsure of how Luke had come to that knowledge. It was the truth, and Ben didn't question it. "Maybe, if the Jedi had allowed Anakin to love, rather than have him do it in secrecy, the galaxy would have met a different fate. Maybe, if Anakin had been able to come to the Jedi with his troubles, as he should have had, Palpatine wouldn't have captivated him with the power that Anakin needed to ensure that his loved ones lived."
Luke's eyes became glossy as he pictured a life where he had been able to grow under the loving care of his mother and his father, alongside his sister. "You're saying that the Jedi were wrong?"
"I'm saying, we'll never know," Ben clasped his hands together. "It doesn't matter anymore. The Jedi live no more. You're what's left of our legacy, and you're the only one responsible for a new Jedi Order, if it comes to exist at all."
"I'm troubled, Ben," Luke said once again, his mind becoming heavier with his doubts and insecurities. "What if I'm destined to follow my father's step into the Dark side? What if my story arc is condemned to be… inherently bad?"
"This concept of destiny that you claim doesn't exist," Ben lectured, leaning his ghostly physique against the desk in the corner of the room. "The illusion that there is a force larger than life that dictates our paths and our fortunes is no more than that — an illusion. We are all responsible for our own choices, and we bear the consequences of our mistakes."
Struggling to accept that concept, Luke mumbled, "Anakin chose the dark side…"
"He did," Ben sadly agreed. "Just like he chose the light again, in the end. Your father's sins are not yours to bear."
Luke exhaled deeply, waving his hand, "I'm afraid my father's sins might become my own."
"I understand your concern, but as someone who closely watched Anakin fall — your father never struggled with the concept of the darkness. He embraced it as a means to a better end," Ben said, "You show your genuine fear for the darkness, and it only corroborates the innate goodness in you."
At last, Luke braced himself to look at his mentor again. "You're saying that being afraid is a good thing?"
Confidently, Ben Kenobi nodded. "It means you still have something to lose."
With his heart pounding inside his chest, he anxiously brought his legs up the mattress. "Leia feels the same — she's terrified that darkness will one day become her. Maybe, hm, you should pay her a visit."
"I will not perturb a soul that does not want to be disturbed," Ben refused, and Luke grimaced a little — of course, Leia being visited by a Force ghost would only lead to catastrophe. "Your sister has her own battles to fight, and you're the only one who can aid her in her journey."
"Ben, Leia doesn't want my help," Luke admitted, a sense of failure consuming him. "She doesn't want anything to do with the Force, and — I don't know what I'm supposed to do, because she's so strong in the Force, Ben."
Ben looked at him a little warily. "Perhaps you should respect her choice."
Luke gazed at the deceased Jedi deadpan. "But Master Yoda instructed me to pass on what I had learned—"
"That doesn't imply you ought to force your sister into a reign of power she's not comfortable with," Ben warned him carefully, "Her path may lie in a different road than yours."
"I don't want her to waste her potential, Ben," Luke confessed in a whisper, "I don't mean that she should become a Jedi — Leia is more astute with words than with physical sinew — but the Force should aid her. It would guide her, help her come to terms with the things she has yet to cope."
"I understand that—"
"Do you know that she searched within the Force to find me, yesterday?" Luke didn't allow Kenobi to speak, so caught up in his flow of consciousness he was. "She has no training in the Force, and yet she managed to find me after I had disappeared on her. And she doesn't speak about it, because she's afraid of it, of herself. I don't know how to guide her if she won't confide in me."
Ben sighed visibly. "Your lack of patience once again clouds your vision, Luke. It is your duty, both as a Jedi and as her brother, to support her through her troubles, not force her into something she doesn't want for herself. Do not allow her to concede to your teachings because of your insistence on the matter — only time and herself will ordain her path. Not you. She should only seek the Force when she finds peace within herself."
Luke thought of his sister, wondering if she would ever achieve that peace that his old mentor was talking about. He hoped so, he hated seeing her troubled, but he wasn't naïve — there was still a long way for Leia to overcome.
He closed his eyes momentarily, burying the memory of his sister in the safety vault of his mind he secured for her only. His eyelids flashed open in a rush once he remembered Obi-wan Kenobi's ghost next to him, and how Ben was faded to leave whenever he judged Luke no longer needed his acumen.
"Ben," he cried softly, "There's something else."
Old Ben waved his hand, waiting.
"It's… About my mother."
Luke thought he saw a flick of pain through his mentor's face, but it disappeared all too fast for him to judge it correctly.
"What about her, Luke?"
For the first time in weeks, Luke restrained himself as he said, "My mother is alive."
"I'm afraid that's not true, Luke," Ben Kenobi replied coldly. "I understand you want her to be, but the truth is that she died, immediately after you were born. She died fighting for what she believed. She died alongside the Republic."
"You're lying to me," Luke shook his head negatively, a quiver of anger passing through his body. "You've already lied too much to me, I see straight through your lies now, Ben. My mother is alive."
Rather than losing his own patience, Ben simply crossed his arms against his chest, "And what makes you believe that? What brings you this much conviction?"
The condescending tone used against him made his eyes burn with rage. "Padmé Naberrie came back for me. For Leia and I. She walks and breathes and lives next to me every day."
Ben's silent surprise offered the last Jedi enough of an answer.
"She isn't quite happy, you know," Luke carried on, sharing the grief of his mother. "She thought we were dead. Only learned of us when a guy named Luke Skywalker was announced to have defeated Vader and Palpatine and she connected the dots. Came back in a rush, dropping to her knees and asking for forgiveness for abandoning us. Forgiveness she shouldn't have to ask, for we were stolen from her without her awareness."
Rather than verifying or denying his assertion, Ben prompted, "Is that how you feel, Luke?"
"Damn right it is!" Luke all but shouted. He didn't like swearing, the words tasted foul on his mouth, however — they suited his mood so right. "I was stolen from her. I could have grown up under her and her love! Instead, I was thrown into the wolves."
"The Lars loved you—"
"Bullshit!" he yelled and — there it was, the cursing again. "Uncle Owen took me in, and that was it. Aunt Beru loved me, sure, but there's just so much she could have done to make up to Uncle Owen's mistreatment of me."
Rather than reacting at all, Ben incited, "Your upbringings have made you the person you are today, Luke. The Jedi that you've become."
Luke blew a puff of air between his lips, "Then imagine, just imagine the person I would have become if I had been raised by someone who actually wanted me, who would have loved and cared for me under any circumstances…!"
"You know better than to dwell on things that could have happened," Ben lectured, and when the young boy only shifted in his anger, the retired Jedi provoked, "What would you like me to say, Luke?"
"I want the truth," he snapped. "I want you to tell me, to my face, that you were heartless to the point of stealing babies from their mother…!"
Ben's lack of physical response was starting to get on Luke's nerves — he wouldn't display a single emotion, and Luke felt certain disdain for the man he had once considered everything to him.
"It happened a long time ago, Luke."
"So now you're too old to remember?!" Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well. Padmé remembers. She doesn't speak about it, because she's so determined to focus on having us now, but I know that her pain will never be erased. You were her friend, Ben! How could you have done this to her? To drop her barren in some pointless world and let her deal with the loss of everything on her own?!"
"The truth is hardly ever so simple, Luke," he replied, matter-of-factly.
"Then how about some enlightening here?!" Luke insisted, "Because I am sick of all the lies that compose my life."
For the first time, Ben Kenobi gave him something. He walked towards Luke and sat next to him in bed, and the boy kept his eyes forward to show him his contempt. Ben was contained with Luke's vile reaction.
"I was there with Padmé as she gave birth to you and your sister. I won't go into detail on what happened before, because that's Padmé's story, not mine, but I was there with her. I stood by her side — she was so weak and lifeless, the medical droid stated that she had lost her will to live. She was barely conscious, a little out of herself, and she focused all that was left of her strength to deliver her children to the light. First, a little boy she called Luke, then, a little girl she called Leia. She told me, very bravely, that was still good in Anakin, and the last thing I heard her say, as she drew a very tired breath, was a request that we, Bail Organa and I, wouldn't leave her children alone. Bossed us, really, and we left her alone to tend to you and your sister. That was the last time I saw her."
Luke listened carefully, however — he wasn't that naïve boy from Tatooine anymore. He knew better than to accept everything that he was told without an ounce of wariness.
"I left Bail with you in a separate room, and when I came back to check on Padmé, the medical droid told me that Padmé had died. Simple as that; she had drawn her last breath."
Luke fussed his brows together.
"But?"
"The Force works in mysterious ways, Luke," Ben taught him.
"That doesn't mean shit."
Ben nodded gracefully. "A working medical droid doesn't make mistakes. A medical droid mustn't make mistakes, because mistakes cost people lives. And there I had a perfectly working droid, stating that Padmé had died."
"But you knew better than that," Luke inferred, "You sensed that Padmé was still alive. You felt her presence in the Force."
"As I said, the Force works in mysterious ways."
Luke shook his head, "You keep saying that, but that doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't make sense to those who are scared of the answer it so obviously gives," Ben warned him, and sighed. "Indeed, I sensed Padmé's presence within my reach. Barely there, but there nonetheless. However, when you see something that is not meant to be occurring in front of you, you tend to think that — greater forces are working to achieve something bigger than you can imagine."
Luke swallowed hard, wrapping his arms around himself in discomfort. Vividly, he remembered Leia's discourse with Padmé from their dinner, where she had so eloquently asked if her father would have been able to trade ethics for the common good. It hadn't bothered him back then, because it hadn't been his father, but now — he understood her pain.
"You knew that Padmé was alive, and you allowed us to be taken from her. You allowed Leia and I to be separated from each other, even!" he nearly yelled, "And here you were, hypocritically telling me that you don't believe in destiny."
"Destiny doesn't exist, Luke," Ben said, quite calm. "But when the Force tells me something, I listen."
"No, the Force isn't cruel," Luke denounced, "The Force would never cause pain to individuals for the sake of a larger picture. You listened to what you wanted to hear. You saw Leia and me as political pawns, and for that, you gambled with our entire lives."
Ben remained silent.
"And the worst is, you could have left us with our mother, and still raise us to be the warriors that you had depicted," Luke cried, "Padmé would have stood right by you as we grew to be the people who destroyed the Empire. Instead, you stole her from us. As if that hadn't been enough, you stole my sister from me. How do you live with yourself?"
"I did what I thought was right. Yoda agreed with me," he said, although nothing in his voice indicated that he was trying to defend himself. He had simply — made peace with his choices.
"Of course, Yoda had to be behind it as well," Luke grunted, getting up at last — he couldn't stand being so near the person that he had once trusted with his life. "That's why the Jedi Order fell. Because you couldn't bear to look past your own interests. Fuck the lives of two innocent babies, who had the misfortune of being born in the middle of it all. So long as you got your way—"
He was rambling, he was fuming — he didn't care anymore. He was angry, because he could have had everything, while still growing up to be the Jedi that would take down Darth Vader.
"Leaving you with Padmé was dangerous. If Vader or Palpatine came to learn that she had lived, that you had lived, they would have marched into hell if it meant killing Padmé for once, and bringing you and your sister under their power," Ben elaborated. "If somehow they found Padmé, because she would refuse to stand down for what she believed in, and the only information she'd be able to pass on was that Vader had killed her child in her womb — you'd still be safe."
Luke crossed his arms. He refused to accept that things were so simple. He had grown to know better than that.
"Separating you and your sister — it was too dangerous to keep you together. Together, your presence in the Force would be too strong, and the Emperor would have immediately sensed it, and terminated you, as he did with all the other Force sensitive children in the galaxy. And they weren't the children of Anakin Skywalker, the chosen one. Furthermore, if Palpatine did suspect Anakin's child had lived, he would have found one of you, but because nobody knew that Padmé had been carrying twins, the other one would have remained safe in anonymity."
The young boy felt the first prickle of tears surfacing his eyes.
"If you really feared us being found, you wouldn't have placed Leia in Alderaan, in the middle of the galaxy, right under Palpatine's nose," and his eyes widened, and he turned to face his mentor again in petrified horror. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? To have Palpatine sense Leia, kill her, and I'd be safe to carry the Jedi legacy."
"That is far from the truth," for the first, a glimpse of anger flicking through his voice. "I'd never willingly danger either yours or Leia's life. Queen Breha couldn't conceive, Alderaan needed an heir, and the Organas were kind enough to offer her a home. Despite all the danger that Leia was ought to bring them, they still chose her. If it makes any difference to you, Bail Organa didn't know that Padmé still lived. He had no reason to mistrust the medical droid."
Gazing down, Luke sniffed. That fact didn't make him feel any better, but he stored the precious information meticulously in his mind. It would make all the difference to Leia.
"Our only destiny was to keep Padmé's children safe, and alive, and that much we did right. We did it at all costs, against all odds. You were our only hope."
"Padmé's children would never remain safe if they were groomed for war," Luke pointed out gravely. "You never cared for us, or Padmé. You only cared about us fixing your mistakes."
"You made your own choice, Luke," Ben replied, "So did Leia. You both followed your parents' paths because it called for you. Not because we forced you."
"That doesn't alter the fact that you gambled with our lives," Luke accused, "You left me with the Lars, when they already struggled enough to sustain themselves. You left Leia with the Organas, under Palpatine's reach, ready to have her as bait if it came to it. Our only fortune was that the Force always cared for us."
"The Force looked after you, of course, but so did we," Ben interfered. "I remained on Tatooine, always watching you, in case of danger lurking — and trust me, Luke, danger came to you far more often than you were aware of."
If only that were enough.
"What about Leia? She didn't have anyone looking after her."
"That's where you're mistaken," he said, "In the palace of Aldera lived a Jedi, Ferus Olin. Undercover, ready to take the fall for Leia, if she exhibited any signs of being Force sensitive."
Luke eyed Kenobi with carefulness, "What happened to them?"
"He died. Protecting your sister."
The young Jedi bit hard on his inner cheeks, wondering if Leia were aware of that.
He breathed in several times, gathering his thoughts amidst all the information he had been offered.
"That doesn't change anything. I can't forgive you for what you've done, Ben," he said, regrettably. "Not now — not ever."
"If it is the way it is, Luke, I accept it," Ben said. "I have done you wrong, and I apologize. Do pass on my apologies to Padmé, as well. She's the one who hurt the most."
Startled, Luke faced Ben Kenobi in panic, "You're going already?"
"Isn't that what you want?" Ben frowned. "My duty to you is complete. My duty to the living reign is concluded. It is time I ask forgiveness for my mistakes and join the peacefulness of the Force, at last."
Luke hated himself for having to control his emotions; he despised himself for still caring about the old Jedi, despite all that he had just heard.
"Thank you for reaching me one last time, Ben. When I needed it the most."
Ben Kenobi smiled tenderly at him.
"Goodbye, Luke."
Luke never saw the ghost of his former master again.
A/N: ho ho ho, sorry to all the Ben Kenobi stans out there. Whelp, I needed someone to be the bad guy and hide the twins from Padmé, and Ben suited the role perfectly. Ops.
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