Youthful Mistakes: Part 3
By KnightMara
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. The Great Flanneled One does! All hail George Lucas!
This takes place immediately following Youthful Mistakes: Part 2.
Luke struggled back to consciousness in a disoriented haze. Fighting the nightmarish fear that seemed to grip him even in his semi-awakened state, he bolted into a sitting position before his eyes had had a chance to adjust to the darkness around him. The gentle grip on his left arm had barely registered in his awareness when, all of a sudden, his voice began to work once more and the scream that had been caught in his throat before his fainting spell emerged as a full-throated yell.
His own cry was echoed by Windy's as the other boy also returned to consciousness, terrified and bewildered in the darkened canyon.
"Easy, there," an unfamiliar, gentle voice spoke. "You've nothing more to fear, young ones."
Luke blinked his eyes and turned toward the voice. As his vision adjusted, he was able to discern the face of a gray-bearded man with bright eyes and a soft smile. Dressed in desert robes of dull brown, he knelt beside the two boys who stared mutely back at him.
Luke could not shake the feeling that he'd seen this stranger before. That they were somehow connected in some odd manner that he was at a loss to explain. A million questions raced through his mind as he gazed upon the man's features, but his lips seemed unable to form the words.
It was Windy who spoke first. "The womp rats?" he asked breathlessly.
The old man's gaze left Luke as he regarded the other boy. "They're gone, young man." His slightly accented voice was soothing, although Luke still felt ill at ease.
Windy however, seemed very relieved. "Whew, I thought we were goners."
With a quick smile and a gentle laugh, the man replied, "Well, I can assure you both that you are very much alive."
Luke, still speechless, studied the man while his attention was on Windy. His face was wrinkled with age and exposure to the harsh climate, and, although they seemed full of an energy and power Luke could not begin to fathom, his eyes were sad. As those eyes turned once again to gaze upon Luke, the boy could not help but feel that they were somehow gazing into the very core of his being. He shivered, wishing he could pull some sort of cloak around himself to shield him from the penetrating force of the old man's stare. Luke's mind suddenly jumped to his brief flash of anger with Windy, and he felt strangely as though the old man had exposed his shameful transgression. Awash with guilt, Luke pulled his eyes downward to stare at the ground. He couldn't stand the gaze any longer.
"So tell me, Young Luke," the old man's voice broke into his thoughts, "what brings you and your companion to this canyon in the middle of the night?"
Shocked, Luke felt his power of speech return. "H-how did you know my name?"
The old man smiled. "I know a lot of things about you, Luke Skywalker."
Before Luke could scramble together some form of response, Windy chirped up.
"You're Crazy Ben Kenobi, aren't you?"
At his presumptuous question, the old man chuckled softly. "Indeed, I am, son," he replied, mirthfully. "And who might you be?"
Luke watched as Windy brushed sand out of his dark curls and smirked. "Don't you know my name, too?"
"I'm afraid this planet is a little too big for me to know everybody," Kenobi answered with a shake of his head.
Windy snorted. "Yeah, but you know Wormie, here."
At Kenobi's questioning gaze, Luke quickly replied, "That's Windy. We rode his dewback out into the Wastes, and it dumped us in here and took off."
"Your lousy idea!" Windy snapped.
"Shut up!"
"Easy now, boys," soothed Kenobi, laying a hand on each of the boys' shoulders. "What's done is done. Arguing about it can't help you. Now let us simply concern ourselves with getting you home before your families take you for dead."
"We tried to find our way out of the canyon," Luke tried to explain, "but it goes on and on forever. And Windy hurt his ankle, so it's hard for him to walk. And we've got no water, no food, no supplies, nothing. So I was using rocks to scare away the womp rats. But then there were a whole lot of them. And there was this roar; I don't know what it was. And my uncle is going to kill me when I get home." Luke had no idea why he was rambling, but the words kept tumbling breathlessly from his lips until Windy reached over and smacked his leg.
"Stars, Wormie!" he exclaimed. "No wonder Biggs always says you've got a mouth like a crater!"
Clamping his mouth shut, Luke looked back down at the ground and muttered, "Sorry."
He heard the soft sound of barely muffled laughter and looked back up to see Ben Kenobi chuckling lightly, although he was trying to hide it. "It's all right, Luke," the old man spoke at last, regaining his composure. "You've had a bit of a scare, that's all." As Luke continued to stare, Kenobi reached into his cloak and pulled out what looked like a small medkit. Shifting toward Windy, the old man began, "Now let's see if we can't help that ankle of yours a bit."
Luke sullenly watched as Ben Kenobi tended to Windy's ankle. He didn't need to be reminded that he'd been scared back there, even if it was true. Uncle Owen was always reminding him about how childish it was to show fear, especially on a world like Tatooine where bravery was the one factor that determined whether one would survive or not. And Luke was no child. He was fifteen years old, had helped his uncle fight off sandpeople on numerous occasions with his blaster rifle, and had even cheated death once--at least, that was how he liked to refer to his speederbike incident. Even though he knew he had fainted back there, he was sure he'd had a good reason for it.
"What chased away those womp rats, anyway?" Luke suddenly asked.
Kenobi looked up from dressing Windy's ankle, and answered with a sly grin, "Sounded like a Krayt dragon call."
"There was a Krayt dragon here?" cried Windy in utter shock.
Luke stared at Kenobi, waiting for an answer.
"Well," Kenobi replied at last, "it sounded like one." He paused before adding, mysteriously, "But things aren't always as they seem. I certainly didn't see one here when I found you two."
"Then what--" Windy began, before Luke cut him off.
"How did you find us?"
Again, Kenobi laughed that soft laugh of his before answering. "Depending on your point of view, one might say that it was you who found me. After all, I live out here in the Wastes, and have for quite some time. From my knowledge, the two of you belong on the outskirts of Anchorhead. So, in a sense, your own wandering brought you to me. All I did was come across your unconscious bodies on my walk."
Unsatisfied, Luke gave him a long, hard glare. Clearly, the old man was skirting the fine edges of truth without crossing into falsehood, and very cleverly at that. He'd seen his uncle use this same tactic on a number of occasions. Luke never pressed his uncle when he did this, and he wouldn't press the old man, either. In spite of his evasions, there was something about Kenobi that told Luke to trust him.
As Luke watched, Kenobi finished fastening a splint to Windy's injured leg and asked, "Now, how does that feel, son? Not too tight?"
"It's okay," answered Windy with a nod. "Will it still hurt to walk on it?"
"I'm afraid so. But that splint will keep you from injuring it further, and it should ease the pain a bit." He began searching in his medkit again as he spoke. "It's a simple sprain. Nothing broken. But had you kept walking on it as you were, it probably would have become extremely difficult to walk on it at all in short order. Untreated sprains can grow quite painful."
"Thanks," Windy muttered.
Kenobi nodded in reply, and turned toward Luke with a small tube in his hand. "Now, it's your turn. Let me see if I can't keep those scrapes on your cheek from scarring you for life."
Luke had forgotten all about his own injuries, and gingerly touched the caked blood on his face with a questioning look. "You don't really think they'll scar, do you?"
In response, Kenobi began to dab some of whatever was in the tube onto the scrapes. "I'm sure that they're not nearly that bad. And this cream should help them to heal. You're likely to get a lot of scars in your life, Luke. No need to start acquiring them now."
"Hear that, Luke?" Windy laughed. "Even he knows how accident-prone you are!"
Luke's anger flared once more, but Kenobi's voice stopped him short of doing anything in retaliation.
"Tendencies toward skull fractures aside, young Windy, I feel that our Luke may have a greater destiny than even he knows."
Luke's bottom jaw dropped. So that's why he recognized the old man! He was the one at the hospital! The one he'd thought he'd imagined all this time! But why had he been there? How had he known? What had he been doing? What exactly did this old man know about him? What was all this stuff about destiny? And why did he keep popping in and out of his life like this? With all of these questions and more forming and running through his brain, it was little wonder that the question that came out of his mouth was not what he intended.
"Who are you?"
Windy giggled. "He already told you. He's Old Ben Kenobi, the Wizard of the Wastes and all that!" Turning back toward Kenobi, Windy joked, "No offense, but if you think Luke has this great destiny, then you're as crazy as people say!"
Luke stared at Windy in horror, wondering how he could sit there and say such things to the old man who'd just come out into the middle of a canyon in the middle of the night to help them. Not to mention, neither of the boys knew Kenobi in any way, and had no idea how he would react.
To Luke's relief, the old man merely chuckled. Then he began to laugh. Loudly. Rising from the ground and helping the two boys up as he did so, Kenobi continued to laugh heartily at Windy's brazen comment.
Confused, Luke stammered, "You aren't offended, sir?"
"Why, no!" answered the light-hearted hermit. "After living in the desert for as long as I have, it's nice to know I have a reputation at all!" Wiping away the tears that had sprung to his eyes during his fit of laughter, he motioned. "Come along now, and let's get you two home."
Luke and Windy exchanged curious glances before following the old man as he led them out of the canyon and into the open Wastes. It would be quite a journey. Luke only hoped he had the chance--not to mention the courage--to seek the answers to all of the questions he hoped to ask the mysterious Ben Kenobi.
"So, I'm barely hanging on by my fingers," Windy was explaining to Ben Kenobi animatedly, "and Wormie here is the one who misses a step and goes sliding down the canyon wall." The boy laughed derisively at Luke, who scowled.
"It wasn't my fault the rock crumbled," he countered. "Besides, you followed me down a few seconds later."
Windy gaped, incredulous. "Who'd been hanging on forever while you tried to form a plan in that messed up noggin of yours?"
Luke threw him a sharp glance, but catching Ben Kenobi's curious gaze out of the corner of his eye, he refrained from any further retorts. Instead, he stared straight ahead of him, peering into the darkness of the desert night as they steadily made their way toward Windy's home.
Luke had fought desperately to be taken home first in the hopes that his Uncle Owen would be somewhat less enraged at the circumstances if another boy was present. Unfortunately, Windy's was the closer homestead, and logic suggested that they go there first. Especially considering Windy's injury. For the most part, Old Ben Kenobi's splint had held up rather well through the journey, as the boy had only begun to limp again in the past half-hour. Luke was actually amazed at his endurance. His own legs were burning with the strain of such a long walk through the desert, and more than once he'd acknowledged the nudges of the other boy only to realize that he'd nearly been sleepwalking. Of course, he was quick to note that Windy hadn't been up and working on vaporators since dawn. For all Luke knew, he'd slept until he and Aunt Beru had arrived at the house. In all honesty, it was perfectly understandable for Luke to be as exhausted as he was.
And yet, he refused to show it. So ingrained were his Uncle's lessons on not showing weakness and never complaining in front of strangers, Luke merely bit his lip and pressed on. Consolation came in the thought that he could complain to Aunt Beru in the morning. She was always a good one to listen.
"So tell me," Ben Kenobi's words broke into his thoughts, "how did you get that black eye, young man?"
Luke shot Windy a frantic look. Was he going to tell the truth? How much was he going to say? Luke felt his pulse begin to race and beads of sweat explode across his forehead in spite of the chilly air. What would the old man think if he found out about his enraged attack?
Why did it suddenly matter so much to Luke what Ben Kenobi thought?
Shifting his focus from Windy to Kenobi, Luke noticed that the old man's eyes were not fixed on Windy, the boy to whom he'd asked the question, but instead, they were fixed upon him. Under his forceful gaze, Luke shifted uncomfortably; yet he felt compelled to answer with the truth.
"I did it," he answered before Windy could reply. Lowering his gaze, he added, "I hit him."
Kenobi stared at him without speaking for a moment. "And why did you do that, young Luke?"
Still staring at the sand and the barely discernable shadows of his treading boots, he shrugged. "He said some stuff, that's all."
"And you hit him because of it." It wasn't a question. "Because you were angry with him."
Luke felt his heart stop within his chest. Kenobi seemed to be reading his thoughts or something. Luke risked a sideways glance at the old man, and was mildly relieved to see that he was no longer looking back at him. He still felt uneasy, however, at the fact that the hermit seemed to already know the whole story. It was as though the questions were asked for Luke's benefit, to get him to think and talk about the incident, and to contemplate the weight of his actions. It gave him the vague impression of being in school, and Luke wondered if this man had ever been a teacher. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
"I apologized," the boy offered lamely. He didn't like being scrutinized and he wanted the old man to drop the subject.
"Yes," Kenobi nodded, still not looking at Luke. "But does that really undo the hurt that you did?"
"It really wasn't all that bad," Windy remarked quickly in Luke's defense. This was surprising, considering that Windy had never attempted to defend Luke before, and that he had to lie to do so. Windy could often be annoyingly honest.
"Is that so?" Old Ben Kenobi asked, looking from one boy to the other. "Then why does it seem like there's more to this than you two are telling me?"
Windy's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he stared at the old man. Luke could tell he was shocked by the hermit's insight.
Luke, however, wasn't. "What does it matter?" he exclaimed angrily. "Can't two boys have a fight without having to go on trial for it? I mean what's the big deal? Fixer gets into a fight at least two times a week! So it's not important!"
"It all depends on the circumstances," Kenobi replied softly.
Luke threw his arms up in exasperation. "Great! Now you sound like my uncle! Circumstances, consequences, responsibility!" He was tired, cranky, and his patience had worn thin. He knew what he was about to face once he got home, and he knew he was letting it affect him now. That knowledge didn't stop him, however. "I guess that just settles it, then. Luke Skywalker can't do anything right! Windy, you said so yourself. I'm just an accident waiting to happen! Well, it must be true if I'm getting lectured on circumstances for my behavior from a total stranger!"
In spite of the burn in his legs, Luke increased his pace to put some distance between himself and the others. He knew his behavior would be described by his uncle as irrational, but he didn't care. He knew he'd just been rude to both a stranger and an elder, and he didn't care. He knew that without the old man he'd be as good as dead in the desert night, and he didn't care. Nothing mattered except the struggle to rid himself of the irritation and impatience that coursed through him. He didn't like feeling like this. He didn't like it at all.
He heard Windy's accelerating footsteps as the other boy tried to catch up. Luke stopped him before he could close the distance with a wave of his hand and an angry shout. "Just back off, Windy!"
"But Luke," he heard Windy protest.
Then the old man's voice broke in. "I think it best that we left him alone for a while."
Luke shook his head. Leave it to Crazy Ben Kenobi to claim he knew what was best. He continued to plow across the desert as quickly as his tired legs could manage. It wasn't long before the activity began to burn off the edginess in his emotional state. Within a few minutes, he was slowing down as the anger and irritated energy wore off. Unfortunately, both were quickly replaced by guilt.
What was wrong with him? Why had he just mouthed off in front of a total stranger who only wanted to help him? Was he just tired, or was it some personal defect of his? Could it be simply that he was a teenager? Was that just an excuse? Had he just shamed his aunt and uncle and their upbringing of him? Had he made himself out to be a horrible person? Luke bit his lip, wishing he could answer these questions but knowing he couldn't. He didn't know why he'd acted the way he had. But he felt sorry for it.
He slowed down his pace enough to let the others catch up to him before he spoke. "I'm sorry," he murmured barely loud enough for them to hear.
Windy stared at him warily, while Kenobi simply put a hand upon his shoulder and nodded in acceptance. Luke would have preferred that one of them at least had spoken, but that would have to do for now.
The trio walked on in silence. As they crossed the desert, Luke wished fervently that this journey would simply come to an end. It was already turning into a long night. One that he was not proud of at all. The eagerness for adventure that he had experienced during the day had been replaced by a desire to forget that any of this had ever happened at all. He'd made too many of those . . .what had Biggs called them? Youthful mistakes. He hoped that with age would come the disappearance of such things. He didn't know how many more mistakes he could afford to make in his young life.
Through bleary, tired eyes, Luke could make out the dim outline of Windy's home in the distance as the night crept slowly toward dawn. It was about time, he thought wearily. They'd been walking for hours, with only the voice of Windy's incessant questions toward their guide to break the silence of the desert night. Luke had briefly wondered what had prompted his companion to suddenly become so curious about Kenobi's life; but then again, Windy was always one to get bored easily, so it was no wonder that he'd started asking questions to break the monotony.
"So you don't even go into Anchorhead?" he was asking now.
"Very rarely," the old man replied.
Windy looked puzzled in the dim predawn light. "So you live by yourself, with no neighbors, you don't go into town, you grow your own food, repair your own mechanical stuff, and never get bored?" he asked.
Kenobi nodded with a smile. "Yes, that sounds about right."
"I still don't believe it," Windy sighed, shaking his head. "How do you stand it?"
"Quite easily," the hermit replied. "In truth, there is enough activity in the desert to keep an old man like myself quite busy." He paused and added with a wink, "As you two no doubt discovered this evening."
"I'll say," the boy heartily agreed.
There was a silence before Luke heard Kenobi ask, "And what about you, young Luke?"
"Hmmm?" Luke had only been half following the conversation and wasn't sure what he was being asked. Even if he had, he almost felt too tired to reply.
"Past your bedtime, Wormie?" Windy teased.
"Shut up," Luke managed sleepily, although the words came out sounding like a one-syllable yawn. He was excruciatingly tired and wanted nothing more than to find a place to lie down and go to sleep, although he'd settle for shoving his boot in Windy's mouth at this point. The realization that he'd gotten up at this hour yesterday drifted into his consciousness. No wonder his feet were dragging through the sand.
"Don't worry," Kenobi interjected. "We'll get you home soon."
"Fat lot of good that'll do me," Luke mumbled. "I've got a dozen or so chores that have to be done today. Yesterday was my one afternoon off. And knowing my uncle, he'll make sure I don't get any sleep before then as punishment for getting into this situation in the first place."
"Oh, I'm sure he won't do that," Kenobi replied with a sympathetic smile.
"You don't know him, sir," Windy argued. "That Owen Lars is a tough man. No offense, Luke," he added, "but you get punished for stuff that my folks just laugh at."
"No kidding," sighed Luke with a grimace.
Kenobi placed a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder. "Things have a way of working out. You'll see."
Luke glanced back at the old man curiously, but Kenobi was staring off toward Windy's house, which had grown much closer in the past few minutes.
"Any chance I could get some sleep at your place?" Luke asked, turning his attention toward Windy.
"Where? On the floor?" Windy remarked. "You know we've got no room."
"I know," Luke muttered. "But, damn, I'm tired!"
"Watch your language," Kenobi scolded unexpectedly.
Momentarily surprised but too sleepy to react in any way but instinctively, Luke replied, "Yes, sir." Luke looked down at his stumbling feet and kept walking. He was feeling more and more ashamed of himself with each passing moment. And the more tired he got, the more likely he was to make more mistakes. Not an encouraging prospect. Maybe he should just keep quiet for the remainder of the journey. That way he could stay out of trouble. After all, wasn't that the main reason he'd taken this little adventure in the first place? To stay out of trouble? He found himself smiling bitterly at the irony.
There was a long silence before Luke heard Windy say, "I can make it on my own from here."
Luke glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. "Are you sure?"
Kenobi seemed to share his doubt. "I'd rather we walk you all the way in."
Shaking his head, Windy dismissed their concerns. "No, it's okay. Wormie here looks tired, and I'm close enough. Besides, I don't know how my folks'll react to me being walked home by Crazy Ben Kenobi, anyway."
Smiling amusedly, the old man nodded. "If you insist, young man."
"Yeah, I do," Windy nodded. He turned to Luke with a smile. "Good luck with your uncle. And since you'll probably be grounded, I guess I should say, see you in a month or so."
Luke forced a grin. "Thanks."
"And thanks again, Kenobi, for the ankle thing and all," the boy added, turning away from Luke and the old man.
The two watched as Windy hobbled toward his home in the brightening bluish light of dawn before they themselves turned toward the Lars homestead.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Luke asked quietly.
"I'm sure he will," Kenobi answered. "Although, I still would have preferred to walk with him, myself."
"Windy's stubborn sometimes."
Kenobi favored Luke with an assessing gaze. "As are you, if I'm not mistaken."
"Not all that much," Luke argued, forgetting his promise to himself to remain quiet. At the old man's disbelieving stare, he amended, "Well, maybe a little. But I'm not nearly as stubborn as Uncle Owen is."
"And how are things at the Lars homestead?" Kenobi asked after a moment.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I was just being curious. After all, I told you two boys all about living in the desert. I was wondering what it was like at your uncle's."
Luke was quiet a moment, struggling to find an answer. No one ever asked him what it was like living there, and he never really thought about it too much. To do so would be to wonder about his family and the circumstances that had brought him to be raised by relatives other than his parents. His uncle usually discouraged him from even mentioning his father, and so he'd let the matter remain part of that silent secret part of the mind where ideas rarely formed into words. Very rarely was it brought to the surface, and never intentionally. He recalled that moment in the hospital over a year ago. That was the last time he'd vocalized his feelings about his family. Until today. Until Windy's comment.
Still searching for words, he looked back up into Kenobi's gaze and found himself mesmerized by the old man's eyes. In the filtered light of dawn, it was hard to determine their color, but they were somehow bright and sad at the same time. Luke immediately felt a kinship with this old man, as if they shared some strange connection that was as deep as it was elusive to Luke's own consciousness. In light of this, words started tumbling out of his mouth.
"It's pretty good most of the time. When I remain on my uncle's good side, that is. With my aunt it's different. But my uncle, he's just hard on me all the time. Like he's afraid that I'm going to turn out to be a bad person. And after today, I keep wondering if he's right about that." He paused. "But they've always raised me well, and I can tell every day that they love me. Even if I'm not really theirs. But they won't tell me anything about my family or where I came from. They won't even let me ask. They just keep teaching me how to become a moisture farmer. Like that's all they want me to be."
"There are worse occupations, son," Kenobi suggested.
"Yeah, but they won't even let me try new things. They even pulled me out of school last year."
"They did?"
Luke nodded and yawned. "Uncle Owen said something about not wanting me to become a slave to the Empire with all the drivel they keep shoving at us in school. Wanted me to think for myself and form my own opinions." He stopped, noting that Kenobi seemed to have a deeply concerned look on his face. "Was he right?"
It was a moment before Kenobi answered, "This was an Imperial school, I take it?"
Luke nodded. "Perfectly Imperial. Biggs and I used to laugh at how all the teachers looked exactly the same. And they did feed us a lot of what Uncle Owen calls propaganda. About how wonderful the Empire is, and how corrupt the Republic was with all the non-humans and such that were running it, and how humans are superior, and a lot of garbage."
Kenobi was eyeing him warily. "And you don't believe any of this 'propaganda' as you call it?"
With a shrug, Luke replied, "Not really. It all sounds kinda one-sided to me. And besides, I don't think that all non-humans are inferior. I mean, come on!" He laughed. "But now all my friends are in school, and I'm working on vaporators. How fair is that?"
"It's a far cry better than that education you were receiving," Kenobi replied with a smile.
"Yeah, but I keep thinking I'll fall too far behind in case I ever want to get off this rock." Luke sighed. "Like that's ever going to happen with the way my uncle is. He doesn't let me do anything. And Windy was right. He punishes me for everything."
Kenobi smiled. "Well, young Luke, he's in a rather difficult position."
"Why?" Luke shot back. "I'm not that bad."
To Luke's further chagrin, Kenobi started to chuckle. "No, Luke, but it isn't always easy to raise a teenaged boy. Especially when that boy is a Skywalker."
Luke rolled his eyes in weary annoyance. "Yeah, and how many Skywalkers do you know?"
"I've known a few in my lifetime," Kenobi replied wistfully.
Luke was startled. "Really?" That was the first time he'd ever heard of there being any others beside himself. "Are they still alive? Are any of them related to me?"
"Well, you're alive," Kenobi said quietly, seeming to turn suddenly sad. "But as for the others, I cannot say." He paused with a heavy sigh. "Besides, that was ages ago."
Luke tried unsuccessfully to hide his disappointment. He couldn't explain why he wished there were others. Maybe it was simply the desire to know the answers to all of the questions he could never ask at home. Or maybe it was to feel like he truly belonged somewhere. After all, he'd been an outsider all his life. "I hope I find them some day."
Kenobi smiled and patted Luke's head. "I'm sure you will, Luke. Someday."
Hearing those words coupled with the fatherly manner in which Kenobi touched him, Luke felt a surge of warm feelings for the first time since he'd woken up the day before. "Thanks," he whispered.
"For what, Luke?"
Luke swallowed. He didn't know quite how to put into words what he was feeling thankful for. "It's been a really long and terrible day. And I've been ashamed and guilty throughout most of it. So, I just want to say thank you for sort of being the one bright spot in all of this. And I also want to say I'm sorry for all of the horrible things I did and said earlier. Even the stuff you don't even know about."
"Meaning your fight with Windy?" Kenobi asked with a knowing expression.
Luke nodded.
The hermit smiled. "Even though it isn't really my place to forgive you for your actions, I will tell you that everything is quite all right. Just remember to keep those feelings of anger and fear in control. They can be very dangerous if you allow them to control you. Always remember that."
Luke felt the remainder of his guilty feelings begin to melt away and he smiled. "I will."
As though punctuating his own returning happiness, the first sun appeared over the horizon and began to wash the sky in a golden glow. In its warm light, Luke saw the domed structure of his home not too far away. He accelerated his steps. Although still tired, he felt slightly revived, and he was eager to get home. He didn't know what would await him there, but he was ready to meet whatever he was destined to face head-on.
It was only when he looked back toward the old man that he began to hesitate. He hadn't expected to see the apprehensive expression on Ben Kenobi's face.