He made her feel young—not the beautiful kind of young, but like a little girl. In reality, he wasn't much older than she was, and yet he'd been more places than all the men on Tatooine combined. Whenever Ben spoke, it was as if his voice carried the heartbeat of the galaxy.
Which was why she had brought Luke to see him again.
It was partly out of her own childish desire. She knew it was dangerous and Owen would never approve, but her regrets would quickly evaporate whenever Luke invited himself into Ben's arms. Ben rarely spoke at all, yet from Luke's reactions, Beru knew they were somehow communicating beyond spoken words. At times, she felt left out, but she was willing to sacrifice almost anything to see the brief glint of joy in Luke's eyes.
Luke was getting excited now as he told Ben his story. Beru often examined the way Luke interacted with Ben—the boy would move his hands around dramatically, sometimes even his entire body, full of genuine passion for his own tale and the older man's attention. "And then, the broken droid started to move in a weird way," he was saying. He hopped off Ben's lap and began to imitate the robotic movements. "Like this. It was like—like magic."
Ben raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. For a moment, Beru thought he would make a comment about the Jedi, but he didn't. He never allowed it to slip. "That is a strange story," he said slowly. "Very strange indeed."
"It happened!" insisted Luke, shaking Ben's shoulders a little. "Honestly!"
The older man gave a sad smile. "I believe you."
Satisfied, Luke made his way over to Beru and made himself comfortable in her lap. He suddenly yawned. "I'm sleepy," he said softly. It was more of an announcement than a complaint. He promptly fell asleep on Beru's shoulder, as if someone had just flipped his imaginary switch off.
"It's getting rather late," said Ben, rising from his chair. He was around the same height as Owen and perhaps even leaner in frame, but in all his modesty, he appeared to be hiding something more sophisticated than what Beru's world had to offer. "Perhaps you should be heading back."
She didn't answer. Instead, she focused on Luke's sleeping figure, hoping Ben would think she hadn't heard.
Ben took a seat next to her. He suddenly appeared very old and tired. "You don't need to lie to me, Beru. I know you never told Owen you were here."
Beru continued to stare at Luke, stroking his hair gently. "He likes it here," she said absently. "Luke, I mean. He never laughs or tells stories at home. He doesn't have any friends, either. The other boys think he's strange."
"Like a little boy I once knew." Ben sighed and placed a warm hand over hers. "I wish I could tell you honestly not to worry, but that's hard to do when I worry myself."
They sat quietly for a while, listening to the sound of Luke's breathing. …thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three… Beru gave Ben a shy glance, and even though his eyes were hidden under his lashes, she knew his gaze was fixed steadily on Luke. His hand remained pleasantly firm over hers, and she secretly wished the moment would last forever.
"You're a hard worker," said Ben, breaking the silence. "I never realized how harsh the desert could be. Owen is lucky to have a wife like you."
Beru suddenly found herself ashamed of her calloused hands and coarse hair. Owen never cared much for the way she appeared as long as she did her share of the work. She had chosen a simple life, but what for? She thought of the young Senator from Naboo—Miss Padmé had been the most beautiful woman Beru had ever seen, and now she was dead. Her husband had become the most feared man in the galaxy, and their son… was perhaps more intelligent and adventurous than any child of Beru's would have been.
"I don't deserve this," she murmured. "I wasn't meant for this."
Ben didn't speak. The oil lamp above them flickered, filling the room with strange shadows. A shadow passed over Luke's peaceful expression, but it was quickly gone, replaced by the lamp's bright glow. It was as if the boy had just disappeared for a moment and been placed back into her arms.
"He's almost like a gift," said Beru quietly. "A gift to this world."
"Then a gift, he is."
"But why us? Why me?" whispered Beru, holding Luke softly against her chest. There were tears on her face now, and Ben was wiping her cheeks dry with his sleeve. The boy remained asleep and she willed herself to suppress her sobs so he could continue to sleep in peace. "He wasn't meant for this life—he's too special."
"I felt the same way when I brought him here four years ago," said Ben, touching her shoulder lightly. "I was wrong to think that. To this day, I've had no regrets about the decision."
When Beru finally found the strength to lift her chin, she was so overwhelmed by Ben's solid gaze that she had to quickly lower her eyes again. He didn't have the same youthful beauty as Anakin or Padmé. Instead, there was something more powerful behind his disguise—an ability to move people without effort.
For a while, Ben looked away, as if he were reliving his past in his mind. "I'm still as arrogant as ever," he said softly, almost to himself. "How foolish of me, to think I could humble myself in a few years by simply admitting my mistakes."
Beru couldn't understand, but his voice held her attention.
"You underestimate yourself," continued Ben. He looked so absorbed in his own thoughts that Beru wondered if he was even talking to her. "But that's what gives you strength, isn't it? You haven't really lived until you can see yourself in comparison to those greater than everything great you've ever known." He paused and took a deep breath. "There are just some things I can't say to you, Beru, because they would ruin what I've come to admire about you."
"That's strange," said Beru timidly, "because I've always admired you."
Ben gave her a half-perplexed and half-perceptive look. "Perhaps, but there's no need to. You and Owen have much more to give than I could ever offer, especially to a child like Luke. I'm much too… mechanical."
The awkwardness of the word lingered in the air, and for the brief moment, the rhythm was lost. Luke stirred in Beru's arms, the light from the burning lamp causing him to squint and bury his face into Beru's chest. But he couldn't fall asleep again.
"What time is it?" he murmured.
Ben smiled kindly, and for the first time ever, Beru noticed the numerous wrinkles under his eyes. "Time for you to go home," he said.
Luke stuck out his lower lip in a pout. "But I'm not tired anymore. I want to hear you tell a story."
"Your Aunt Beru is tired," said Ben. "Let her go home and rest."
The little boy understood immediately and nodded, standing and even offering to help Beru from her seat. Beru laughed and allowed him to give her a little pull before getting up. Suddenly, she reached out and took Ben by the arm. She felt his muscles tense and relax in response. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for bringing him to me."
He gave her hand a little squeeze and led them to the door. "No, it was the Force that brought him to you. Apparently, it has an eye for modest but loving families."
Luke looked at Ben and back at his aunt, then decided he would run ahead. "C'mon, Aunt Beru! G'bye, Ben!"
Beru gave Ben one last look before she turned and followed Luke across a small hill of sand. It was hard to forget the pain and acceptance in Ben's eyes as she led Luke further away from the tiny familiar hut. Even as the hut disappeared out of sight, she wondered if the old man was still at the door, watching them walk away the same way she watched him grow distant in her mind.