Okay, folks, I don't usually respond to reviews specifically unless somebody emails me. But in light of padfoot963's review, I think I need to make something clear here. Several of you have complained that I've made villains of Ben and/or Amidala in this story. This was never my intention.
Just remember, this story is told mostly from Beru's POV. I could write it from Ben's POV, same plot exactly, and make you think she was exasperating in the extreme. ;) For instance, Owen and Ben and Beru all tell different versions of the breaking of her engagement. Who's telling the truth? Of course, they all are. Ben's stressed out, miserable over Anakin's turning, Owen's defection and Beru's intransigence; he has a whole galaxy collapsing around him, and he just doesn't want to be where he is. In other words, he's not at his best. Good people can do bad things; just as bad people can do good ones. He's thinks he's doing the right thing here. Maybe he's deceiving himself. Maybe he's misguided. Maybe he's just distracted. This does *not* make him a villain, nor evil.
As for Amidala, I think I made it clear that she was suffering from post-partum, like that wretched woman in Texas who drowned her five children. She may be psychotic, but it's not her fault, guys. She's not evil, either, though obviously, like Ben, she's overwrought and she's done something she's ashamed of. In fact, I was considering leaving the Luke story-line for awhile, and going back to Amidala and Leia and seeing what happened to them after Beru decamped with Luke.
I've really enjoyed writing this story, and though it has never been as popular as my first one, it has had some devoted readers--Katie, Tusken, Renee, Brigantia, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, Jedi Betty, Shy_Introvert, Phoenix, and several others have reviewed regularly. Thanks, guys, I always appreciate feedback and suggestions. (Hi, there, Obaona, I've read and enjoyed your stories on theforce.net. Glad you like this one.) I can tolerate flames--everybody's entitled to their opinion, and I've never argued about it when I've received one. Threats, however, are a different story. (Yeah, okay, padfoot, I know you were joking--kinda.)
Okay, nuff said. On with the show.
Chapter Eighteen--Vaduz and After
That night Beru stumbled off the Bakanir shuttle at the Vaduz spaceport. She was dreadfully tired, and Luke felt like a dead weight in her arms. Luckily, the ever-gallant Captain Rijdan had sent a young lieutenant with her as escort. The Captain, in fact, had tried to get her to stay on Bakanir with his family for a few days. But Beru had been desperate to get back to Vaduz. The Force seemed to be screaming at her; something was wrong, and she feared it concerned Owen. Lt. Wolders proved an invaluable help on the shuttle; he obligingly minded Luke while Beru tried to sleep; and then played with the baby while Beru, unable to sleep, paced the floor of their cabin.
Beru collapsed on a bench with Luke and watched while the energetic lieutenant rented a speeder and loaded their meager belongings into it. He also did the driving, for which Beru thanked the gods; she was in no shape by this point to do it herself.
Finally they arrived at the small home she and Owen had rented. At first she thought the smallholding was deserted. It was past dusk, but there were no lights on. The windows were open, and the door was ajar. She stepped in cautiously. There was no one in the small parlour-hall, but Owen was in residence, she could sense it.
The bedroom door was open. She shifted a sleepy Luke in her arms and peered inside. Owen was lying on the narrow bed, fully clothed. She could see his chest rise and fall slowly, but something was wrong. Beru moved closer. There was a large flask on the bedside table. She picked it up, and grimaced when she read the label. It was the best Corellian whiskey, old stock. She felt like throwing the bottle at him. Was it for this she had forced herself to return immediately? Damn, damn, damn.
She took Luke out to the kitchen, where the lieutenant was waiting. She noted gratefully that he had already secured the door and windows.
"Everything seems alright," she said, stifling her anger at Owen, and smiling at him. "So I don't want to keep you any longer. Please thank the Captain very much for me, would you? I don't know what I would have done without your help."
The lieutenant blushed becomingly, bowed, kissed her hand and assured her it had been his pleasure. He even sounded sincere, Beru thought. She was touched, and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, which made him blush even harder. After assuring her that it had been no trouble at all, ma'am, several times, he took the speeder back to the port.
When she saw the speeder leave the clearing, Beru slumped against the door-frame. She was exhausted.
The baby woke up and began to fuss; to keep him quiet, Beru decided to breast feed him. She had been trying to wean him recently, but felt unable to cope with that now. The rocking chair she usually used was in the bedroom. A glow rod, set low, gave her enough light to see by. Owen was still unconscious; she saw no reason to disturb him. He'd feel bad enough tomorrow.
Eventually Luke fell asleep. Beru detached him gently. She should lay him down in his crib, she thought, but she suddenly felt too tired to move. Reaction, she supposed. Hardly surprising, given the events of the last few days.
She looked wearily over at Owen, and saw to her surprise that his eyes were open, and he was looking at her. I'm *really* tired if I didn't sense that, she thought.
Then Owen said: "Where's Ben?" His voice was thick and rusty.
"Bakanir," Beru said.
"What's he doing there?"
"He's in jail," Beru said.
Owen stifled a laugh. "That seems to be the eventual fate of everybody who tries to get that kid away from you," he said.
Beru didn't answer. She felt too exhausted to speak.
"How did you manage it this time?" Owen asked.
He didn't seemed disoriented, which surprised Beru, given the evidence of the alcohol he'd consumed.
"I didn't, not really," she said. "We went through inspection. Ben was controlling me, so my reactions were slowed down, and I couldn't talk. He had passports passing him off as my husband. Which would have been fine except for one thing. Guess who was doing the inspection?"
Comprehension dawned. "Captain Rijdan."
"Right first time. He knew I wasn't married to Ben, of course. Came up and asked me what was going on. I still couldn't talk, but I got the message across. I appealed to the good Captain's galaxy-size sense of chivalry. Poor Ben! He didn't even know what hit him!"
"I know that feeling, alright," Owen said.
"I'll bet you do. They charged Ben with abduction, forcible confinement, assault, and---worst crime of all where the Bakaniri are concerned--unchivalrous behaviour. According to Captain Rijdan, the last one carries the biggest penalty."
Owen was silent for a moment. Then he said. "Why did you come back here?"
Good question, Beru thought. Damn good question. I wish I really knew the answer.
"I wanted to apologize to you, Owen," she said finally.
"For what? I broke my word to you. After all those promises I made, too. Didn't take much, either, did it? I thought you'd never forgive me."
"I've thought about it, too, and Ben was right: I should have never asked you in the first place."
"I didn't realize that I was *that* bad in bed," Owen said.
Beru had just enough energy to slap Owen's face, which she did, sharply.
"Stop that! I'm sick of it!"
Owen blinked at her owlishly.
"I don't want to hear any more self-pity from you! Ever again!"
Owen stared back at her. He seemed rather puzzled.
Beru suddenly began to feel very uneasy. She could not sense Owen's usual suppression. In fact, she could not sense anything at all from him. What was going on here?
"Owen, there's an empty bottle of Corellian on the bedstand. Did you drink the whole thing?"
Owen looked confused. "I think so," he said tentatively. "I needed something to wash the spice down with. It tasted awful."
Beru forgot her exhaustion; she leapt to her feet, and grabbed his arm.
"Spice? What spice? Where did you get it? How much did you take?"
Owen knit his brow. "I can't remember how much. Not anymore. Got it at the port. The wrappers are in the trash disposal, over there."
Beru was at the disposal in seconds flat, and counted four spice wrappers--enough to stop a charging bantha. Combined with a whole quart of Corellian, too. She deposited Luke in his crib with scant ceremony, and ran for the holo. Her hands shook violently, but she managed to punch in an emergency call.
A stray memory from her childhood then assailed her: her younger brother had eaten something poisonous, and her mother had made him drink salt water to force him to vomit. She had a saline draught ready in seconds and ran to the bedroom. Owen's eyes were closed, and he was laid out like a--oh no, he wasn't, not like a corpse---
"Owen! Owen, wake up, wake up, damn you!" She slapped him again, hard. Owen's eyes snapped open. Beru grabbed him by his hair and forced the saline solution down his throat. Most of it ran off, but he swallowed some of it. He gagged.
"Drink it, or I swear, I'll kill you myself!" Beru cried, giving him another dose. All of it went down Owen's throat this time. And most of it came back up shortly thereafter, for Owen began to be thoroughly sick.
Beru alternated between fear and fury. "Trust you," she said, shaking him, and not at all gently, "to put the spice wrappers tidily away in the disposal! Absolutely typical! An orderly suicide attempt! Damn you to hell!"
Owen was seized by another wave of nausea. Beru held him while he was sick, her arms around his waist, and her face braced against his back. She stopped yelling, and started sobbing.
The wail of the emergency siren sounded outside.
(To be continued....)