Sorry for the slight delay in updating, but thanks again to Barbossa'sApples, Mara look-a-like, Calli1, and Jedi Princess for your reviews. And welcome and thanks to bastiaan and Elessar-Lover. Thanks, also, E-L, for all your reviews on Book One!
Now let's see if Luke and Mara can stay out of trouble long enough to reach their wedding day.
A Journey of Discovery ― Book Two: Pledge
Chapter Seven
Although the small hamlet of Zembuhl had many visitors during its Winter Festival, Luke and Mara were already widely recognized as 'the strangers.' Their speech, their attire upon arrival, their hairstyles and mannerisms ― all served to set them apart immediately from the inhabitants of the obscure, isolated planet.
The news of the bonding of these two strangers spread like wildfire through the close-knit community. Within a few hours of Mara and Luke's informing Merta of their decision, everyone in Zembuhl was reveling over the unexpected salvation of the village's annual ritual.
―――――
Mara Jade drew her shawl close about her head, hoping to escape recognition as she plodded through the snow back to the boarding house. Detecting Luke's familiar presence, she circled around to the high wooden fence that enclosed the rear of Merta's property. Stepping through the back gate, she stifled an admiring grin as she crossed her arms and stood to watch.
His jacket discarded on the ground and his sleeves rolled up above his elbows, Luke wiped his brow before setting a chunk of cut timber onto a large tree stump. With a low grunt, he heaved an antiquated ax over his shoulder and brought it down to neatly split the log down the middle.
"So you can do manual labor," Mara teased, her eyes following the trails of sweat down his muscular forearms as he systematically repeated his motions on each half of the log. A large mound of similarly dispatched firewood was testament to his morning's labors.
"Of course I can." His indignant expression was suddenly replaced by a sly wink. "But watch this!" He reached down and pulled his lightsaber from the folds of his rumpled coat.
Casting a quick glance around the partitioned-off work yard, Luke tossed a half-meter-long log into the air. Quickly igniting his saber, he effortlessly split the piece of wood lengthwise into four nearly equal sections before it ever hit the ground.
"Skywalker, what do you think you're doing?" Mara growled, forcing a stern look onto her beautiful countenance as she swept out with the Force for any possible eavesdroppers.
"I want to keep in practice," Luke responded, throwing two logs at once to demonstrate his prowess and just barely making the final swipes in time. "Yoda had me do this with silver bars for hours on end."
"You're going to have a lot of explaining to do if anyone sees that lightsaber," his audience scolded. She did her best to hide how impressed she'd been with his display.
"Ahh, you're no fun," he returned with a chuckle, as he shut down the glowing green blade. "I made sure it was only you within sight."
"Only me? Thanks a lot." Mara made her way over to a bench near the back door and plopped down wearily. "How did I get stuck going out into that mob to deliver pies and cakes, and you got to stay here and chop things!" she grumbled irritably.
Luke frowned in surprise. "So the townspeople weren't happy about our marriage plans?"
"Oh, quite the contrary." Mara groaned, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the back of the clapboard structure. "If one more person even thinks about trying to hug me, I'll be whipping out my saber."
Luke had just sat down beside her, and was about to reach out when Mara's last words stopped him cold. She blinked open one emerald eye, riveting him in place. "And if you don't put an arm around me," she muttered in warning, "you could be the first victim."
Luke smiled and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Sorry," he sympathized. "Guess we should have seen that coming, judging by Merta's reaction and how friendly the others have been so far."
"Well, no one actually wept like she did, but they were practically on their knees, thanking their Divine One for sending us here." Mara snuggled her head against Luke's shoulder. "I thought your toolcrafting buddy was trying to squeeze the breath out of me."
Luke pursed his lips uneasily. "You didn't hurt him, did you?"
"Might have accidentally stepped on his toe," she murmured. "Shouldn't prevent him from making the new stabilizer rod."
Luke kissed the top of her head softly. "I'll try to intervene when we go out this evening."
"Sure, you like getting hugs." She looked up at his dancing eyes. "Why do we have to participate in this primitive carnival, anyway?"
"Mara, we can't just hide in our room until the wedding," he reasoned.
"Sounds like a good plan to me," she countered, reaching up and stroking his wind-chapped cheek with her gloved fingers. "I'm certain we could find plenty of things to occupy ourselves."
Luke winced slightly in regret. "Too many things, I'm afraid." He squeezed her tightly against himself. "It's only for a couple more days," he began, getting back to the subject of the villagers. "Surely we can suffer through a host of well-wishers that long. Soon we'll be on our way back to the ship, and back out to the mawrat-race of the rest of the galaxy."
Mara let out a deep sigh. "And then? You enjoy being with people, Luke. I don't. You like being surrounded by friends. I like my privacy."
"Hey." He tilted her face up toward his. "You know me better than that. Yes, I'm glad to see my friends, but I don't like big crowds. I would much rather be alone, especially alone with you."
"I don't think that particular fact thrills your sister."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you notice that scowl on her face when she comes looking for you, and finds us alone together?"
Luke was silent a moment. "Well, yes, but she only seeks me out when I'm late for some meeting or appointment. I'm sure that's why she always frowns."
Mara shook her head. Men could be so dense sometimes. "She usually has a smile on her face until she sees me. I told you months ago that she and Han didn't trust me. They still don't."
Luke looked down at their joined hands on his lap. "I should have made more of an effort to include you when I got together with them and my other friends."
"Which would have only strengthened everyone's supposition that we've been sleeping together all this time."
"What!"
"Though in hindsight," Mara continued thoughtfully, ignoring his interruption, "your not including me probably reinforced the notion that much more. It wouldn't do for the Jedi war hero to be flaunting his lover, after all. Especially one that had been a court dancer."
"Now wait a minute. I told Han and Leia you weren't just an ordinary dancer."
"Eventually. Which made it look like you were ashamed for them to think what the rest of Coruscant thinks."
She put her hand over his mouth when he started to object again. "You didn't really believe those thugs in the Ranat Roost were the only ones who consider us 'involved,' did you?"
This time Luke made no attempt to reply, his eyes betraying his reflective pondering.
"To get back to my point, I doubt Leia is going to welcome the news of our nuptials with open arms, and I'm afraid that is going to bother you more than you realize." She raised his bare left hand and gave it a gentle kiss. "Despite your rather hasty remark this morning that she'd 'get over it.'"
Luke drew in a deep breath of frigid air, then exhaled slowly. "I guess we'll just take things a step at a time when we get back." He looked at her, his eyes shining with love as he squeezed her hands. "I don't want to postpone our plans," he said softly.
"Good," she mouthed back, as their heads drew closer. (Because I'm looking forward to being your wife,) she sent, their lips meeting in a soft kiss that quickly escalated into a fervent embrace.
(Merta's coming,) Luke alerted Mara a few minutes later, though he didn't pull back.
(So?) Mara returned, clutching him even tighter. (I'm sure betrothed couples are allowed to kiss, even here. In fact, everyone here also thinks we're doing more than just kissing.)
At that, Luke broke the kiss and grinned sheepishly. "We're fooling people all over the galaxy!"
Any comeback Mara might have made was cut off by the creaking of the boarding house's back door. "I suspected I might find ye two lovepups hidin' out back here." The weathered skin around the jolly matron's eyes crinkled with laughter. "But there be a whole batch o' folks who can't wait to meet ye."
"I thought I already met everyone possible this afternoon," Mara said with a moan, though she was smiling at the jovial landlady.
"Child, that was only a smidgen of the bodies attendin' Festival tonight. And ev'ry one of 'em is hopin' fer a bit of yer favor."
"I've been trying to convince her to get going," Luke declared, rising and tugging on Mara's arm.
"I could see that right off when I came out." The older woman winked at him, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Ye have interestin' ways of persuadin' in that village of yers."
"Hmmm... yes... well..." Luke grinned guiltily as he headed toward the pieces of wood lying scattered on the ground. "Let me just stack this in the woodshed first."
It was at that moment that Merta noticed all the firewood piled haphazardly near the chopping block.
"Land's sakes!" she exclaimed, pulling her wrap around her shoulders as she stepped out for a better look. "Ye split all that while we were gone? By yerself?"
"Yes, ma'am." Luke paused with his armload of kindling. "I guess I got a little carried away."
Mara glanced at Luke, relieved to see he had once more hidden his lightsaber inside his jacket. "Farmboy never knows when to stop," she joked.
Merta frowned at her statement, then turned to Luke. "I thought ye were a fisherman?"
Luke shot Mara a 'thanks a lot' look. "I used to be a farmhand, growing up."
"Yer family still work the land?" Merta inquired curiously.
"No. My aunt and uncle did, but they've passed away. They brought me up on their farm." He gave Merta a heartfelt smile. "You remind me of my Aunt Beru." His sincere compliment also served to distract Merta from asking any more details about this 'farm.' Luke could just imagine trying to explain that their main crop was water.
"Do I now?" The plump woman laughed. "In a good way?"
"Absolutely," he returned with a grin. "She was a very special woman."
"She musta been, to raise up a fine lad like yerself."
Mara smiled to herself as the two talked. Luke had related several tales to her of his youth, and the opposite temperaments that his aunt and uncle had possessed. She knew, of course, of the stolen plans to the first Death Star, but didn't realize until recently that Luke's guardians were murdered in the attempted retrieval of those plans. She thanked the stars that those were two executions not on her already-burdened conscience.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
A short while later, the woodshed was overflowing with neatly stacked firewood, and Merta and her newest guests joined the stream of partygoers flowing toward the evening's festivities. Lively, foot-stomping music drifted through the cold night air as they drew close, and brightly lit paper lanterns threw colorful reflections across the crowded town square.
Merta soon excused herself and hurried off to greet visiting friends she'd not seen since last year, leaving Luke and Mara to fend for themselves against the gushing tide of well-intentioned congratulations. Luke did his best to divert the more overbearing of the throng, but neither was immune to the affable back-slapping, hand-shaking, kiss-on-the-cheek gestures. Eventually they were able to move along and explore the diverse booths erected around the festival grounds.
"Hey, Skywalker, look! Games of skill!" Mara tugged him in the direction of several stalls where men were engaging in various competitive activities. "These all look like a cinch. We could win at any of these. Heck, I could beat you at any of these." She gave him a conceited smirk.
"Oh, you think so, do you?" he rallied back, easily rising to her baiting. "I could outscore you standing on my head."
"Humph. I could outdo you blindfolded," she shot back, grinning. She loved the verbal sparring with Luke as much as any actual matches.
"All right." Luke accepted the challenge. "You pick. Whichever contest you like, I'm ready."
They stopped at a nearby booth and watched as compacted snowballs were hurled toward bottles balancing precariously atop one another on small ledges.
"Let's try this one," Mara suggested eagerly, salivating at the prospect of showing up both the locals and her fiancé. "Be prepared to put your money where your mouth is."
"Hmmm. Money. That could be a problem." Luke glanced at the proprietor questioningly.
"Just one deka, friend," the jovial young man invited, his rakish cap sitting jauntily atop his dark curls. "Knock three down with one throw, and win yer pretty lass a treasure." He waved a hand toward a row of gaudy trinkets. "Knock all nine down with three throws, and ye get double yer dekas back."
Luke turned toward his companion. "Mara, we don't have—"
He was interrupted by the booming voice of Efam, the pub owner. "Jaco Modesa, ye can't be a-chargin' this lad! This be the pair that's gettin' hitched durin' the Festival."
"Ye don't say!" Jaco held out three frozen spheres to Luke. "Have a go at it with me complements then, me friend."
Luke took the proffered projectiles with a word of thanks, and promptly knocked down all the targets in rapid succession. A cheer arose, and Jaco graciously handed him two dekas.
"But I didn't pay anything," Luke protested. "You don't have to give me any winnings."
"Nonsense!" the young man returned. "Ye earned yer prize, and I'd be shirkin' me duty not to pay."
Luke picked up one of the coins and held it out. "Then let me pay for a second round."
Within minutes, the Jedi now clutched three coins, and was contemplating his third attempt when Mara grabbed his arm.
"Hey, it's my turn. Move over and let me throw."
Muffled gasps sounded from the small crowd that had congregated, and Luke detected worried looks on their faces. Efam leaned over and whispered in his ear, eliciting a dangerous narrowing of Mara's emerald eyes as she watched Luke frown in consternation.
"What's wrong?" she growled, as he pulled her aside.
Luke swallowed nervously, then revealed in a hushed voice, "Women aren't allowed to compete in these games."
"What! Why not?" she cried out in a huff, making no attempt to hide her resentment. Nothing rankled Mara Jade worse than being prohibited from engaging in an activity simply because of her gender.
"It's just their way, Mara," he said, trying to pacify her. "It's nothing against you. We should have noticed that only men are participating in all these contests."
Mara glanced around and confirmed his words; the few women that stood nearby were only watching as their husbands/beaus/brothers demonstrated their aim and dexterity. "This is ridiculous." She bristled with indignation. "Women can knock over little bottles just as well as men."
(Mara, don't make a scene,) Luke pleaded silently.
"Don't make a scene!" she exploded aloud, her temper flaring to life and her fists clenching at her sides. Mara's anticipation of vying with Luke was quickly forgotten in light of encountering yet another example of what was an all-too-frequent injustice throughout the galaxy.
"Not even married yet, and she kin already read his mind," one bystander guffawed.
"She's strong, too, for bein' just a slip of a lass," Hiley the metalcrafter put in. "Me big toe's still throbbin'."
"Aye, he'll have his hands full with that spitfire," another patron concurred. He instantly fell silent when Mara speared him with a lethal glare.
"Mara... dear..." Luke laid a hand tentatively on her arm. "I'm sure there are activities here the women take part in."
"Don't you 'Mara, dear' me." She turned her wrath on her fiancé. "Or you'll be sleeping on the floor tonight."
Hoots and catcalls echoed from the growing crowd, and Luke's expression suddenly hardened. He yanked Mara out of earshot.
"I can't believe you approve of this." She didn't miss a beat in her ranting. "I thought you Rebels fought against bigotry." Mara had been surrounded by prejudice in the Empire; having it directed at her was not something she had ever accepted willingly.
"Of course I don't approve, but you're making too big of a deal out of this. We need to fit in here," he growled, "not see how much of an uproar we can cause."
"You just go ahead and fit right in, farmboy," she spat back. "These yokels are your kind of riffraff, anyway."
"I don't care what you say about me, I'm plenty used to it, but there's no reason to ridicule these people." Luke's voice was low and threatening, and his grip on her arm tightened. "They have been nothing but gracious and helpful, and to insult their way of living is inexcusable."
"Well, I guess there's just no excuse for me then, is there?" With a violent jerk, Mara pulled her arm away. Whirling around, she disappeared from sight as the crowd hurriedly parted to let the steaming redhead through.
Luke bit his bottom lip as he watched the retreating figure of the woman he loved.
"She's a might high-strung," someone murmured in a gravelly voice near his ear. Luke turned to see Efam giving him a knowing nod.
"Aye, me own dear wife had a sharp tongue when we married, nigh thirty years ago," Hiley said, clapping an arm around Luke's shoulders and leading him over to a bench near the gaming booth.
"And now?" Luke asked hopefully. Perhaps women mellowed a bit after years of marriage.
"She still does, o' course," Hiley said with a broad grin. "Keeps a spark of excitement in our conjugal doins'," he added with a wink to the wide-eyed Jedi.
"Womenfolk always feel more easygoin' after a good tumble," Efam advised, coming up with two tankards of ale and handing one to Luke. "Yer keeping her satisfied, ain't ye?"
"Excuse me?" Luke sputtered, nearly choking on his first swallow.
"In yer bed," the pub owner elaborated.
"Uh, we're not married yet," Luke protested, looking back and forth at the smiling faces of his companions.
"Yer sharin' that big bed over at Merta's," Hiley contradicted, leaning lazily against a corner of the booth.
Luke stared in confusion, wondering how Hiley could have obtained such information. Gossip must travel faster here than it did in Anchorhead.
"Aye, but the lass pushed him out of it this mornin'," put in Madame Rosella's husband, Gerd, who sat down next to Luke.
"That must be it, then," a smiling Hiley concluded.
"I don't think—" Luke began, before being cut off by the toolcrafter.
"Is she always contrary when ye haven't tickled her fancy?"
She's always contrary, period, thought Luke. He glanced at the expectant faces waiting for his answer. This was a topic he hadn't even felt comfortable enough to discuss with Han. But he remembered what he'd just told Mara, about these villagers being only gracious and helpful.
"Maybe he hasn't had a roll in the hay with her yet," Jaco piped up.
Luke had never heard that particular phrase before, but it didn't take a hyperdrive designer to know what it meant. The guilty look on his face enforced Jaco's conjecture.
"Ye haven't, have ye, lad?" Hiley smiled in sympathy.
"Not exactly," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the tankard of ale clutched in his hand.
"I knew it!" Jaco whooped. "He's got that same pinin' look I used to have, 'fore me and Aerie took our first tumble."
"And you two been a-tumblin' ever since." Efam laughed heartily. "Jaco and his lass were bonded at Festival last year," he went on, as Luke's gaze fell on the young gamer.
"Aye, and come spring we'll have a new young one to show fer it," Jaco announced proudly, a wide grin plastered on his face.
"Ye and yer miss hopin' fer a big brood o' children?" Gerd asked Luke, his knobby throat bobbing as he spoke.
Luke's head swiveled to the older man. "We, uh, haven't thought much about it yet," he admitted. We've only been engaged less than a day, he reflected to himself. And getting married in less than two.
"Ahh, there be nothin' finer than strong sons and comely daughters," Efam proclaimed. He thrust a new mug of ale into Luke's hand.
"No, thanks, I still..." The young Jedi halted in his refusal when he noticed the tankard he held had been drained dry.
"Now then, lad." Efam clapped Luke on the shoulder. "What say we earn ye a few more dekas?"
Luke glanced in the direction Mara had gone. "I really should..." But Hiley and Efam were both guiding him back toward the gaming booths.
"Riled up womenfolk need time to cool off," Hiley advised. "The worst thing ye can do is go runnin' after 'em."
Though misgivings bounced around in his jumbled mind, Luke knew from past experiences that a cooling off period for both Mara and him was not without merit. He didn't protest as the other men drew him into their lively circle of good will and gambling.
