Chapter 13--A Modest Proposal



The next day, Owen's manic behavior abated, and he would scarcely talk to Beru. Unrequited herself, she knew these symptoms only too well. Owen had obviously long nursed the pleasing daydream that if he told her the truth, she would confess like feelings---long unexpressed--for him, and they would fall into one another's arms. Beru was familiar with *that* fantasy---intimately. Real life being real life, she hadn't responded; and now he was humiliated, and wishing he had never told her a thing. Beru devoutly shared that wish. She was now very glad that she had never worked up the nerve to play Owen's role in a confrontation with Obi-Wan. Owen's other revelations in that direction she filed away for further consideration.



The medic still visited them regularly. On one of these visits, she angrily denounced Owen for not spending more time with Luke, thereby allowing Beru to rest. Owen had endured this tirade in grim silence. Then, with the long-suffering air of a man unjustly accused, he had taken Luke out for a walk. This involved putting the child in a small infant-sized float chair at the end of a thin chain, and keeping a sharp watch on him. Luke was highly suspicious of going on any expedition alone with Owen, and so the first attempt at an outing was, not surprisingly, a disaster.



On their return, Owen had burst into their suite, holding a howling Luke. "I think he's possessed by demons!" he blurted. "He screamed, he yelled, he did everything but yodel! We attracted a big crowd of Bakaniri women, all of whom had an expert opinion on why I'm a lousy parent! And they wanted to describe it to me in detail-all at once!



Beru suppressed a smile, as she took Luke into her arms. "That's too bad, Owen," she said, gently for her.



"I'll say," Owen exclaimed bitterly. "Of course, the women decided that they had to comfort this poor little baby, condemned to my company. They lifted him out of the float-chair, and right on cue, he stopped crying. Gave them the great big smile and dimples routine; you know: the one that always slays you."



Beru stiffened. "Is that so?" she said.



"Yeah. Then he sniffed, you know that pathetic way he has. They all cooed--in unison--and one of them produced a handkerchief and wiped his nose. Then they passed him around, clucking over him, and pinching his cheeks. He was in Hutt heaven, the little con-man! And of course, as soon as I took him back, he started howling again. They all looked at me as though I was some kind of torturer...!"



"Tough luck," Beru said, no longer gentle. "You earned that when you kidnaped him on Ghazni. He doesn't trust you, and why should he?"



"If you ask me," Owen said, "he knows full well I'm not taking him anywhere. He just wants to torture me for the damned fun of it."



Beru bit her tongue. She was well aware that at least some of Owen's bluster was a cover for his profound embarrassment. Since the night of his ill-fated declaration, he had been unable to look her in the eye, and was having no better luck at it today. She sighed to herself. The exposure of his true feelings, for a man as naturally reserved as Owen, must be very difficult. So she tried to have patience; but she also wished he didn't display his one hundred annoying habits daily.



She had felt a lot more comfortable with him when she had thought he disliked her. She felt absurdly guilty for disappointing his hopes; she knew the power of such hopes, too well, and how little foundation they needed to flourish. That Owen was jealous of his older brother hardly surprised her, even before she discovered the underlying reason. That he was jealous of an infant--and he was, visibly resenting her devotion to Luke--astonished her.



She cuddled Luke protectively in her arms, and gave Owen a reproving look. Owen rolled his eyes.



After a pause, Owen asked, "What did the medic say? Can we leave soon?"



"Another week," Beru said with a sigh.



Owen scowled at the thought. "We've got to get out of here, Beru. As soon as possible. You know that, don't you?"



"Yes, I know."



"I told Rijdan about the problems with our passports," Owen said. "He promised he'll get us Bakaniri ones. It's not the best solution--neither of us would pass for natives--but it's something at least."



"Yes, I suppose."



Owen collapsed in a nearby chair. "The problem is, I don't even know where Ben is, anymore. And I'm certain going back to Nineveh is a bad idea."



"I can't disagree with that."



"So we have to decide. Not the Temple; Coruscrant is an even worse idea. I don't think any of the Knights are still there, anyway."



"There is an alternative," Beru was careful to keep her tone neutral.



Owen raised his head and looked at her suspiciously. After a rather long pause, he said, "And that is?"



Beru shrugged. "Well, none of us *has* to go back."



Owen stared at her.



"We can stay married, if you want," Beru said, realizing that she must be blunt.



Owen still said nothing.



"It could be a real marriage. Your know what I mean. After all, you said--"



"Are you trying to bribe me with sex?" Owen asked abruptly.



"If that's what it takes," Beru retorted, annoyed.



"If this is your idea of a seduction, Beru, believe me, it leaves something to be desired."



"I've never done it before, okay?"



"Big surprise."



"Well, what *do* you want?" Beru asked, exasperated.



Owen looked at her bitterly. "Nothing you're prepared to give me, obviously."



Beru closed her eyes, trying hard to hold on to her temper. She opened them again and gave Owen a hard look. "Would you rather I tried to manipulate you? Would you rather I fawned all over you and said I worshiped you?"



"In a word, *yes!*"



Beru sighed and sat down. "I can't do that," she said, wearily. "I know you think that you--" she could not utter the word *love,* "--you have feelings for me. But I doubt that it's more than a crush. After all, what do you know about me? Nothing. We've hardly even talked--"



Owen said ominously, "Don't tell me how I feel."



"And don't treat me like a fool! Ask yourself this question: if I hadn't had a crush on Obi-Wan, would you have noticed me at all? I don't think so. You just want someone to choose you over him for once in your life."



Contrary to her expectations, Owen did not lose his temper. He said coldly, "If that were true, I'd have been in love with Amidala, along with the rest of the idiots."



Beru had not expected dispassionate logic in response to insults, and began to feel rather ashamed of herself. Owen undoubtedly brought out the worst in her. Perhaps because she could not sense his feelings--he was a blank slate to her, utterly mysterious. She was so used to relying on the Force with her relations with people that her ordinary antennae had rusted.



"I'm not going to insult you by pretending I feel something that I don't. As it happens, I've decided to declare myself cured of Obi-Wan. I see no point in carrying on further over someone who obviously doesn't share my feelings--" she broke off, feeling suddenly embarrassed.



"Like me."



She looked him in the eyes. "Like you, yes."



"Your honesty is *not* appreciated!"



"Owen, this is getting us nowhere! I made you an offer. We *are* married, we can stay that way."



"And what do you get out of this?"



"I get a husband, and Luke gets a father."



Owen rolled his eyes. "I might have known it would come down to him. Look, Beru----if you want children, it's fine by me, I don't care, but please, please *not* him! We could adopt as many as you want--Jedi kids, even. But he's trouble! He doesn't belong to you, for starters. If we keep him, we'd have to go on the lam. Permanently."



"I've already accepted that."



"How nice for you."



Beru scowled at him. "I seem to recall that when we were married--granted, I wasn't at my best at the time--you acknowledged Luke as your son and agreed that you would provide for him. I assumed--silly me--that you meant what you said."



"The blaster Rijdan had in my back prompted that."



"And is that why you married me?"



"No. I wanted to."



"If you wanted one, you wanted the other. That's the way it is, Owen."



"That's the way it is, Owen," Owen mimicked her. "I'm really tired of you dictating to me."



"Fine. Then all I ask of you is a head start. I intend to take Luke and do my best to get lost--as you said, permanently. You can go back to the Knights--what's left of them--and do whatever you want. You should have no trouble getting an annulment. I won't contest it."



Owen was silent for a moment. Then he said, "You won't last very long."



"Without you, you mean?"



"Yes. You can't suppress his Force sense, can you? And without suppression, you'll be an easy target. For Obi-Wan, if he gets there first. Or for Anakin, if he doesn't."



Beru's mouth thinned. "I'll just have to keep him quiet, then."



"That kid?" Owen sneered. "He'll be quiet in his grave. Maybe."



"That's not funny, Owen," Beru said, coldly.



"Sorry," Owen muttered.



But she knew he was right. To her horror, tears began to trace down her cheeks.



Owen began to mime applause. "See--" he said. "You can be manipulative when you try."



Beru fought to control herself. She wondered if Owen was actually deceived. Probably not.



"Just remember--you asked," she said. A good enough response, except her voice broke in the middle. She jumped to her feet; she wanted to get away from him, now. Losing control in front of Owen seemed the worst fate she could think of. He grabbed her by the upper arms and looked down at her.



"Look, I'm sorry, Beru. I know that you love him, or think that you do."



"I told you--I'm over him."



Owen grimaced. "I meant Luke."



Beru said, "Someone's got to love him." Which was as good as an explanation as any. His mother didn't, his father couldn't, and Owen wouldn't. That left her.



Owen scowled at her. "You must have a real high opinion of me," he said.



"Guilt trips don't work with me, Owen. Give it up."



"And an even higher opinion of yourself."



"And if guilt trips don't work, move on to work on her insecurities," Beru observed. "Have you forgotten what my specialty in the Force is? Don't play games! If the answer is no, say so."



Beru suddenly caught the tail end of an emotion from his Owen's suppression. To her dismay, she realized that he was deeply hurt by her bluntness. Under his crustiness, Owen was, Hoth help him, a romantic. Being crudely propositioned by the woman he fancied himself in love with had devastated him. It obviously didn't fit with his fantasies. Beru wished that she had time to soothe his feelings, but she didn't. Besides, she had no intention of trying to manipulate him. Well, not much, anyway..



"And what guarantee do you have that I'll keep my side of the bargain?" Owen said sharply. He had his pride. A bit battered by this point, but still there.



"I don't have any. Neither do you."



It was no kind of deal--for him. Beru knew it, and she knew what his answer would be. She thought.



"I accept," Owen said, in a hoarse voice.



"What?" Beru said, startled.



"I said, I accept the offer," Owen said, rounding on her.



"Owen--you don't mean that. I wasn't serious."



"I *am* serious. I accept."



"Owen, for Hoth's sake--"



"I said I accept! You want me to betray my brother--I'll do it. You want to help you keep a child you've kidnaped from his mother--I'll do it. You want me to violate my oath as a Knight--I'll do that, too. What more do you want from me?"



Beru stared up at him, shocked into silence.



Owen looked down at her. "I'll honor the promises I made to you at our wedding," he said. "I expect the same from you. Nothing more--nothing less. I don't want the boy, but I accept that you're a package deal. You'll have to accept me, too--as is. Don't ever complain to me that I'm not Obi-Wan. I don't want to hear it. Don't ever complain to me if things get bad. You chose this. You'll get no complaints from me, either. No excuses. Ever. Agreed?



I should say no, Beru thought. I should, I should.



"Agreed," she said.





To be continued....