It was past midnight by the time we made it back to the Lars farm, but found the power off and the place still.
"Sorry, girl." I patted Rooh's neck as she panted, exhausted from the journey. "Just a little bit longer – take us to Anchorhead."
Luke had fallen asleep, his small form resting back against me and I thought about leaving him at the Homestead but quickly decided against it. I may need proof that he was alright, and even I knew it was irresponsible to leave a six year old alone. Especially one with a penchant for wandering off!
As expected, I found a gathering at The Weary Traveller and I carried Luke in my arms into the establishment. I was relieved when he continued to sleep soundly, his head against my shoulder as I loitered in the shadows for a moment. Owen was addressing the crowd – I saw Gavin Darklighter, Fara Marstrap and Jully Sandskimmer amongst them, nodding along with Owen's heated words as he urged them to form a raiding party. His voice was hoarse, as if he'd been arguing his case for hours, and I saw some unconvinced faces among the crowd.
"It's not enough just to chase them away every time they get too close," Owen said, smacking a closed fist against his palm. "They see it as weakness and an invitation to trespass further. We need to strike back, and hard, because it isn't just some vaporator they've vadalised this time."
"Look, I know they've got your boy," a voice spoke up, someone I didn't recognize. "But it's a suicide mission, Owen. We can fight 'em off alright here, but on their own land? It's madness."
"So we just let them take our children?" Owen demanded, earning a few cries from the crowd in agreement.
I noticed Lotty was absent from her usual position behind the bar, and scanning the room I found her in the corner booth, a sobbing Beru in her arms. Seeing her distress made me ashamed of waiting so long, and I immediately stepped out into the main bar area.
"Luke is fine," I called out to get their attention. "He's here."
"Luke!" Beru wiped her tear-stained face and bolted over to me, jolting Luke awake as she pulled him from my arms and into her own.
"Aunt Beru." Luke began to cry as well, burying his face in her shoulder and grasping her tightly about the neck. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright, my daring," Beru said, rocking Luke as if he was still a baby. "I'm just glad you're alright."
Owen approached slowly, his gaze fixed on Luke as if he couldn't believe it. He reached out slightly for him but then pulled back, as if realizing Beru wasn't about to give him up. Instead he placed a soft hand on Luke's head, thick fingers twining in the boy's soft golden hair.
"Alright, alright," Lotty spoke up. "Crisis averted, you can all go home."
The crowd begrudgingly dispersed, likely out of respect for Owen and Beru and fear of Lotty, although I received a range of looks from suspicious to admiring as they shuffled out of the bar.
"Well well well, Kenobi," she said as the room emptied. "It seems like you're a good one to have in a pinch."
"I try to be," I said, wary of further questioning.
"Thank you, Lotty," Beru cut in. "We're going to take Luke home now."
"Let me know if you need anything." Lotty dug around in her skirt pockets and withdrew a small wrapped sweet, handing to Luke who grasped it with a muffled thanks. "And stay out of trouble, young man. You had all of us worried."
Luke sniffed and nodded, while Owen put his hand on Beru's back to gently guide them towards the door. I turned back to Lotty, my mind already working on how to spin the story of how exactly I walked into a Tusken camp and retrieved the boy.
"Kenobi." Owen's gruff voice called from the door, although when I turned his back was still to me. "You coming?"
Lotty raised her eyebrows at me and shrugged, walking back behind the bar and so I had my reprieve. Owen and Beru clearly had a superior claim on my explanation, and I followed them back to the farm with Rooh. I left her outside with a large bucket of water and some mushrooms then made my way into the homestead.
"What did you think you were doing, Luke?" Owen was asking as I walked in, and I hung back for a moment. Luke was sitting at the meals table, shaggy hair falling in his eyes as he looked down at his hands.
"Your Aunt went to hang the washing for ten minutes, and when she returned she found this." Owen lay a scrap of paper on the table, the writing smeared with what I assumed were tears. "A note to say you'd gone off to talk to the Sand People? It was the height of foolishness."
So Owen had known Luke had left of his own accord, rather than been kidnapped. I wondered if he'd shared that information with the others, or if that knowledge would have hurt his chances of raising a party to rescue Luke and so he'd let them assume it was an abduction – like it had been with Shmi all those years ago.
"We know you wanted to help, Luke." Beru lay a hand on his shoulder. "But you scared me and your Uncle to death."
"I'm sorry." Luke's tears started anew, and I could see Beru's heart break.
"Come here." Owen remained stoic, but his voice was softer. Luke got up slowly, wiping his nose with his sleeve and stood before his uncle, clearly expecting a further rebuke. Instead Owen drew him into his arms, hugging the child fiercely. It was the first time I'd ever seen such unrestrained emotion from Owen that was not anger.
"You have to stay safe, Luke," Owen whispered, and I turned to look at the wall, feeling I was intruding on an intimate moment. "Your Aunt and I don't know what we'd do if we lost you."
"I'm sorry," Luke said again through his tears. "I love you, Uncle Owen."
"I love you too," Owen almost choked out the words. "Now go to bed, and we'll talk more tomorrow."
The wait while Beru put Luke to bed was interminable – the glimpse of the gentler side of Owen disappearing as soon as they left the room, leaving only his scowl as I took a seat across the table. He did not speak, clearly waiting for his wife's return before the interrogation began.
I heard a gentle singing from the other room, and for a moment I felt a pang of sorrow for the mother I had few memories of. At the Temple if you had difficulty sleeping there was no one to sing you a lullaby – being a Jedi youngling was about learning not to need such things.
When Beru returned she went straight to the kitchen, returning after a few minutes with a tray of beverages – tea for her and myself, and what smelled like caf for Owen.
"It's the tea you left me," Beru said as she poured me a cup. "Thank you, I've never drunk anything so fine."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "It's from Alderaan."
"On an errand from Jabba?" Owen's voice was sharp, and he glared at me over the rim of his cup as he took a drink.
"No," I said carefully, since they had no idea that Leia even existed, let alone where she was. "Visiting an old friend."
"So how did you find Luke?" Owen moved on to the next question without missing a beat.
"Rooh found him," I explained. "Picked up his scent in the desert."
"She is a special animal," Beru smiled. "Luke was so fond of her."
"Did the Tuskens harm him?" Owen pressed on. "Because if those bastards touched a hair on his head…"
"They didn't," I assured them. "They were keeping him as a hostage – for bargaining purposes."
"And yet you got him out." Beru pushed a small plate of sweet biscuits towards me. "We are so grateful."
"They were afraid of my lightsaber," I said, sweeping aside my robe to where it hung on my belt. "Called me a demon."
Beru and Owen exchanged a significant look.
"Because of Anakin," she nodded, turning back to me. "He slaughtered the tribe that killed his mother." My shock must have been obvious, because she continued. "I overheard him and Padmé talking about it after he brought back her body. How he killed them all."
"The only good thing he ever did, other than father Luke," Owen said gruffly. "It was justice for Shmi and better than those sand-skullers deserve."
"I only hope they don't seek you out for retribution Ben." Beru looked concerned, nudging the plate of biscuits closer again until I took one. It was soft and delicate in my mouth, perfect with the tea.
"Seek him out?" Owen puffed air between his lips in dismissal. "More likely they will become even more aggressive with us – this changes nothing, we still need to stop being defensive and take the fight to them."
"That will do no good," I tried to reason with him. "It will only start a war no one would win."
"And how would you know?" Owen all but spat the words out. "You don't know our ways, you haven't lived for years with the Sand People creeping closer. They killed Shmi and countless others – they maimed my father – I won't allow that to happen to what's left of my family."
I took a long sip of tea, calming myself before answering. "I have not lived here long, you are correct. But I have known war, and I have known suffering – I have lost more friends than I can count to an enemy that I am unable to do anything to fight against."
I signed deeply, the memories threatening to well over with the sadness I kept locked in my heart.
"I live with more guilt and sorrow than you could ever imagine, and although Luke is not my own, even though I must stay away from him at your request, I place my duty to protect him above my own life. If I thought a fight against the Tuskens would keep him safe I would be out there on the front lines. But I have fought in enough battles to know when it is fruitless – when the cost will far exceed the reward. "
I stared him down, no longer willing to allow myself to be cowed. "You may dislike me and everything I stand for, Owen, but at least respect my experience."
Owen was silent for a long time, scrutinizing me as if looking for a kink in my armor. Eventually, he looked down at his hands, and I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch.
"So what do you suggest?" he asked, and I could see he was having difficulty getting the words out.
"Give me a few weeks," I said. "I'll think of something."
"Owen." Beru put her hand on her husband's arm. "Ben has earned a bit of trust."
"Look what he did with it last time."
"And learned his lesson," Beru insisted. "If the Sand People fear him, maybe he can help."
Owen exhaled loudly, his eyes darting back to my face. He stared at me for several minutes, before nodding curtly. "If you think you can reason with those savages, go ahead."
I stood, smoothing out my clothes. "I'll let you know how things progress." I walked towards the door but was halted by Owen's final words.
"Thank you, Kenobi," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "For bringing Luke back to us."
A small victory, a simple thank you, given begrudgingly. But better than a punch in the face - quite literally.
Ben Kenobi
