Luke awoke with a start and a gasp, his lungs gasping for air as if he had been trapped inside a dust storm vortex without a breathing aid. His mouth was as arid as the dry season on Tatooine during year thirteen of the Great Drought, and his stomach rumbled like the Falcon with a faulty power converter. He tried to flex his arm, but it was heavy and stiff as if it hasn't been used in days.

"Finally awake, farmer?" a voice hissed.

He opened his eyes.

The morning light peeking through the half-drawn curtains revealed the Beast, sitting in a large overstuffed armchair at the foot of his bed. Her usual cloak was discarded in favor of a simple but well-cut black tunic and matching form-fitting trousers. The sun's rays lit her hair, generating vivid sparks of red and gold, and picked out the freckles dashed across her nose. If it weren't for the eerie yellow gaze glaring daggers at him – and the lightsaber she held firm in her hand - he'd believe her to be even prettier than he originally thought.

He smiled at seeing her, apparently healthy and none the worse for her wounds. He couldn't help it. "You're out of bed," he said. "How do you feel?"

She rose to her feet in one graceful movement. With a snap-hiss, her red-violet lightsaber ignited. She stalked to the side of his bed. The lightsaber came to a stop just centimeters from his throat. "I told you that if you broke your promise, the penalty would be death. So tell me," she snarled, "why I shouldn't kill you right here and now."

Luke blinked up at her, his brain still struggling to catch up. "But I didn't run away," he pointed out in all honesty. "I'm right here."

The lightsaber moved closer. Burning ozone filled his nose. "Only because I came after you," the Beast sneered.

Luke scooted back and sat up, hoping to put more distance between him and the glowing blade. It was only then he noticed, once again, he had been put to bed without any nightclothes to wear. He tucked the sheet tighter around his waist. "But you were injured," he said, keeping an cautious eye on the weapon. "I could've left you there and kept going."

He reached out with a Force nudge to turn the blade away. It worked, but only for a second. The Beast's gaze narrowed. The lightsaber began to shake in her grip as she fought to regain control.

"Tricks, farmer? I have my own," she growled, and Luke felt invisible fingers circle his throat. He split his concentration in the Force, managed to reduce their grip to a slight pressure.

"No more tricks," he finally managed to choke out. "I promise." He let go of the saber, and she did the same with his throat. He swallowed, and rubbed the sore area. Their gazes caught and met. He stared deep into the angry gold depths, trying not to flinch. To his surprise, she looked away first and lowered the weapon, shutting it off.

"I don't understand," she said, her breathing a bit ragged. It seemed they were well matched in the Force. "Why did you come back?"

"I had to carry you," he said with a shrug. "You couldn't return to the castle on your own, after all. And you needed immediate help."

"But why?" the Beast husked. "If you left me in the forest, I would have died."

"Yes, you would have," he said simply. "I couldn't let that happen."

"Yet my death would have freed you," she said. "Why save me?" Her yellow gaze regarded him intently, the steadily burning anger starting to dissipate.

He sat up straighter. "We are all connected in the Force," he said. "Every being deserves a chance to live."

"Even a Beast?" she rasped softly.

"Even a Beast," he replied.

They stared at each other for a minute. Her mind was thickly shielded, but a frown creased her pale forehead.

"Besides," Luke offered, "you saved my life first. So it was only fair I saved yours." He smiled at her again, broader this time.

The confusion cleared from her face. "Do not mistake my actions in the forest for compassion, farmer." Her words were so cold, they made Hoth feel like Dagobah by comparison. "You swore to stay here. I was only collecting what was mine."

Luke's smile faded. "Fine," he said evenly. "Whatever your reason, I still thank you." A thought hit him and he reached behind, tried to find the wounds on his back left by the canine's claws. No bandages. All he felt were thin ridges where the marks had been, healed over and painless to the touch. He glanced up at her. "I don't understand. I was hurt, too."

The Beast raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "A healing trance," she said, her tone implying he should have known the obvious.

Luke stopped twisting his head, trying to see behind him. "A what?"

She scoffed. "I put you in a healing trance. Surely you would have put yourself in one if you had been able."

"I – no. I didn't know such a thing was possible." He reached behind him again. Amazing. He wondered if she would teach him how to do it, and then shot down the thought. She was one of Palpatine's dark side creatures. No doubt her skills were dark as well.

If he started down that path, forever would it dominate his destiny. Or so he had been told.

"You don't know-is this another trick? But you are Force sensitive, trained by traitorous Jedi. My Master says you are the most-" She pressed her lips closed and tossed her head, red-gold locks tumbling across her shoulders

"Your Master?" No sooner had he uttered the words than he realized to whom she was referring. Of course. Palpatine. He crossed his arms over his bare chest.

Her generous mouth twisted into a smirk. "Yes. My Master. I can hear his call from wherever he is in the galaxy, no matter the distance." He didn't need the Force to read the pride radiating from her. She leaned closer to him until he could see the red sparks deep in her golden eyes. "He will be here. Soon."

So that was the plan: keep him here until he could be handed over to the Emperor. A cold chill traveled down his healed back. Perhaps the Beast was right. Perhaps he would have been better off if he had left her in the forest to die.

On the other hand, he'd probably be dead, too, thanks to those...what did she call them? Wolvskrs?

"And just how soon is soon?" Luke heard himself asking.

She looked away, but not before he caught the thinning of her lips. "Soon enough," she spat out.

Ah. She didn't know. And she was not happy about it. But then, he wondered if she was ever happy about anything.

Well. If he had to face Palpatine, he might as well make the most of his remaining time to prepare. And that meant practicing his training, by any means possible. He would show the Emperor that the Jedi were not fully extinguished. As long as Luke had breath in his body, the Jedi yet lived.

He swung his legs to get out of bed—

- and at the last second remembered he wasn't wearing anything.

Face red, he scrambled back under the covers.

The Beast kept her head averted, but her lower lip was caught between her teeth. "Since you are obviously awake and recovered from your wounds, I will send Looma to attend you," she said without a backward look, and she stalked her way to the door. When she reached it, she spun to face him. "You will have dinner with me." It was not phrased as a request.

"Do I have a choice?" Luke deadpanned.

"You could sleep though it again. But I don't advise it," she said, a dangerous smirk on her lips. She left the room.

He lay back against the pillows. Suddenly, dinner seemed very far away. Too far away,

Of course, he hadn't eaten in days, which might have something to do with his anticipation.

Still, it couldn't come soon enough.