Disclaimer: The Star Wars franchise belongs to George Lucas, etc. The characters aren't mine, no money is being made.
A/N: This is my first fic in the fandom! I'm a newbie and I'd appreciate any and all constructive criticism. Thanks!
Aftermath
He holds the infant in his arms on the long journey to Tatooine. No one gives the man in the brown robe a second glance; they see a father and his infant son. Some of the friendlier travelers converse, smiling and admiring the beautiful child, complimenting his handsomeness and health, asking after the mother. He gives his thanks graciously, but in such a way that discourages them from probing further. A few garrulous types do; he lies easily and lightly, and in a few days, if the travelers think of the man at all, they will remember a tall man, with dark hair…or was he shorter? A son…no, no, a daughter. Prettiest little girl, they were headed for…where was it, now? And so on.
At times when they are alone, he studies the child. He is so young there is no way to tell who he might favor, but he has a downy head of Anakin's blonde hair; he fancies he sees Padme's nose and chin. The thought of them makes him desolate, and he tightens his arms around their child. The weight in his arms feels natural. He is fascinated simply by staring at the baby, marveling at something so perfect and pure, and in his heart of hearts he understands, as he never has before, why the Jedi must live as they do. This child is not his; he has known him a bare few hours; and yet he knows, looking around at the other travelers, that he would sacrifice them all without a moment's thought or hesitation if it meant the life of this tiny boy. Unnerved, he looks out the window at the stars. He thinks of the girl-child, and only now realizes the immense depth of his gratitude towards Bail Organa and his wife. They are good people; she will be safe and loved and happy, and grow up into a woman of honor and strength. She will make her mother's spirit proud, and her father's too, he thinks, for wherever Anakin's spirit resides, it is not in that mechanical demon on Coruscant.
And now, after the long journey, he walks with trepidation toward the small dwelling in the desert. Beru approaches, a strong farm girl with a clear, calm face and kind eyes, and as she holds her arms out for the infant, he barely resists the impulse to turn and flee into the desert with him, to keep him protected under the watchful eye of the man who had loved both his parents so well.
But the moment passes, and he hands the baby to Beru, who takes him over to her husband. They smile over him, and Owen puts his arm around Beru's shoulders as they watch the setting suns.
As he fades into the night deserts of Tatooine, he summons the Force. He hopes that Luke will have his father's strength and none of his weaknesses; that Beru and Owen will love him as their own; that one day Luke will seek him, and learn, and understand.
Above all, he prays he has done the right thing.