Luke Skywalker's quarters, Yavin 4. 12 ABY

"Lay still please, Mara." Cilghal's voice was soft, but her webbed hand was firm as she pressed down on Mara's shoulder to stop her squirming. Mara huffed but obediently stilled, lying her head back on the pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Almost a week she'd been trapped on Yavin 4 recovering from Massassi fever, and she was getting antsy.

Having checked her blood pressure, breathing and glands, Cilghal moved her examination onto the infected area on Mara's left leg. The skin around the bites was still inflamed, although the red infection which had once run up her entire calf was now confined to her ankle.

"You still need another few days rest to make sure the virus has completely left your system," Cilgahl informed her. "Although you are likely strong enough to move to the medcentre, if you like."

Mara considered it, but remembered the cold, stark white of the Praxeum medical complex, the lack of privacy and likely visits from concerned or nosy students. Luke annoyed her, but at least he didn't gawk.

"I'll stay here."

Cilghal smiled as much as a Mon Calamari could. "Master Skywalker makes an excellent nurse."

"I wouldn't go that far." Mara had spent the last week being fussed over by Skywalker - he prepared her meals, administered her medicine and tried to keep her amused. As someone needed to monitor her condition and she had taken up residence in his bed, he'd made himself up a cot and slept on the far side of the room. More than once she had awoken from her nightmares to find his hand in hers, his cool fingers brushing back the hair from her forehead soothingly. And when in the morning she pretended it had never happened, he willingly played along with the deception, never trying to use her weakness against her.

He had also known when to leave her alone, to vanish from his quarters for long periods of time so she could have her solitude. And yet when he was there they often fell into easy conversation. They had not spent so much time in one another's presence since Wayland, and Mara found that she didn't despise it.

"He cares about you, Mara," Cilghal said softly. "I hope you know how much."

Mara shifted uncomfortably on the bed - Skywalker's bed - and looked away. She knew he cared, but Mara had always dismissed it as the genuine and natural affection he felt for all beings, and not anything particular to her.

"I'll be back to check on you tomorrow," Cilghal said as she rose and gathered her instruments, perhaps sensing that Mara was not inclined to continue the conversation.

"Thank you, Cilghal," Mara managed to force out as the healer left, and the Mon Calamari responded only with a gracious smile and a slow blinking of her eyelids.

It was late afternoon when Luke returned from the day's classes, bearing two serves of chaka noodles from the commissary. He smiled warmly at her as he entered, and despite herself, Mara was pleased to see him. She did, however, dismiss the feeling as a side effect of her isolation - she would probably miss a gundark if he was the only company she'd had for a week. Luke had asked if she wanted visitors from the Academy, but Mara had firmly declined - the last thing she needed was slimy Kyp Durron bothering her.

"What did Cilghal say?" Luke asked as he removed his outer robe and flung it over a chair. Mara bristled at the action, for in the past week she'd learnt that Luke Skywalker lived in quarters that were haphazard and a tad cluttered. As Mara liked things ordered and precise, she had spent some of that day tidying the rooms up, which he had evidently not noticed. The fact rankled Mara slightly.

"Three more days until you get your bed back, Skywalker," Mara said as she rose from the couch and followed him to the kitchenette, and did not miss his smile. "You seem almost pleased," she accused him as she took a seat at the kitchen counter.

Luke looked slightly guilty, but his expression quickly folded into impassiveness. "I'm sorry you're recovery is taken longer than expected, Mara," he responded evenly as he prepared their meals. "But I have to admit, it has been nice to have company again."

Suddenly Mara felt as if she'd been drenched with ice-cold water, realising for the first time that not that long ago, Callista had been living in these same quarters with him. She had shared with Luke the same bed Mara was currently occupying, they had likely….

Mara felt slightly sick, and forced that image from her mind with disgust. She almost upbraided him, ready to inform him in no uncertain terms that she was not that kind of "company" and she didn't want in any way to be compared to Callista, but stopped herself. It didn't matter, Mara reasoned, she would be gone in a few days and everything would go back in its box. She and Skywalker would go back to indifferent acquaintances and she would forget his words, which had been off the cuff and devoid of meaning.

"And what culinary delights has the Academy chef to offer today?" she asked, changing the subject and wrinkling her nose at the proffered plate of noodles. The food from the Praxeum was objectively terrible.

Luke gave her a stern look. "He's trying, Mara."

Mara avoided making a "there is no try" joke - she'd heard enough of them. Instead she shrugged and began to eat, surprised when it wasn't as bad as she was expecting. Although that didn't mean it was good, either. She looked over at Luke, who was wolfing his portion down, and Mara shook her head slowly. Not for the first time, she wondered if all his tastebuds had been seared off as a child by some spicy Tatooine delicacy.

"No," Luke answered cheerfully between mouthfuls. "I'm just not as picky as you are."

"Stay out of my head, Skywalker," she told him, but there was not venom behind the words.

"Your shields are down, Mara," he told her with a grin. "I can't help it."

Mara gave him a look and mentally tightened her barriers, slightly concerned that she hadn't even noticed them slip. When she opened her eyes she saw that Luke had placed a jar of tomo-spice on the counter, and when Mara looked at him quizzically he avoided her gaze. She wondered whether he had somehow sensed that she'd wanted to add flavour to her meal, or if he'd learnt over the past week that she liked spicy food. Deciding it didn't matter, Mara added a generous amount of tomo-spice to her noodles and stirred it in. When she tasted the dish again she found it far more palatable.

Luke told her about the day's lessons at the Academy and the new student who had arrived, and at first Mara listened politely. But she soon found herself drawn into the conversation as Luke described the wonder and reverence the young Togruta had expressed at the Praxeum and Luke himself.

"You're a public figure, Luke," she told him. "And like it or not, most of your students - especially the young girls - are going to be in awe of you." She laughed and twirled noodles around her fork. "I don't get it personally," she teased him. "But then again, I actually know you."

"Ha, ha." But his amused smile quickly faded into melancholy. "I just hope I'm not a disappointment to them," he added somberly. "They've heard about all of these amazing things I've done, but the truth is I got lucky most of the time, and half of my successes only came after hideous failures. Jedi Masters are supposed to be infallible, and I, sadly, am not."

Mara put down her fork and regarded him seriously. "No one is, Luke," she told him. "Not even Obi-Wan and Yoda." He looked up at her, surprised that she had picked up on his errant thoughts. "It works both ways, Skywalker," she reminded him.

"I can't help but think I'll never be the Jedi they were," Luke said sadly.

"No, you won't," Mara told him firmly. "You'll be better."

Luke gave a self-deprecating laugh. "That fever knocked you about more than I thought."

"I mean it, Luke," she continued. Usually, she would be attempting to deflate his ego, but Mara was always honest, and she genuinely believed her words. "Yoda and Obi-Wan failed to prevent your father from turning to the dark side," she reminded him. "They lied to you and then tried to convince you to kill him. Hardly paragons of virtue."

Luke pursed his lips and cast his gaze downward. "I better clear up," he said, taking his plate and hers to the sink. It was the first time she'd ever seen him not finish a meal.

"Let me help," she offered as he emptied the leftovers into the trash and began to wash the dishes.

"No, it's only fair, " he said without turning around. "You cleaned today, don't think I didn't notice."

"Well, I can't stand mess," Mara told him as she casually wandered over to the couch and plopped herself down on it.

"I know," came Luke's reply in an indecipherable tone.

Mara began to flick aimlessly through the holonet, first checking the news and the daily stock and trade reports. There was nothing of interest, but even so Mara was anxious to get back to work. Karrde had commed a few days ago, ordering Luke to keep her on Yavin until she was completely recovered.

After a while Luke brought over a teapot and poured a purplish liquid into a cup for her. Mara sighed and wrinkled her nose as the scent of the tea filled the room. She was thoroughly sick of the stuff, but Cilghal insisted she continue to drink it until her infection was completely gone. Luke gave her a stern look, and Mara sighed, taking an obedient sip.

"If I never drink this stuff again it will be too soon," she grumbled.

Luke laughed softly and took a seat in the armchair opposite. "Stay away from Massassi bugs and you'll be fine."

"I'll stay away from this planet," Mara added, taking another sip of the tea. Luke didn't answer, retrieving a small hunting knife from the caf table beside him and a wooden carving he'd been working on. Mara had been surprised to learn that he was quite skilled in carving, and he had spent hours by her bedside immersed in the activity while she rested. Almost without thinking, Mara switched off the holonet and settled in to watch him work.

"Doing that again, Skywalker?" she asked.

Luke smiled as he whittled away. "I had to fell two Massassi trees to get the bark to make your tea," he teased her. "The least I could do was to make sure none of the wood went to waste."

"What are you making this time?"

Luke opened his palm and showed her his project which was beginning to take shape. "An X-Wing," he explained, and Mara could see the elongated x shape in the wood which would form the ship's wings.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" she asked, something which she'd been curious about ever since she'd first witness him doing it. "I can't imagine there's much wood on Tatooine."

"There's not," Luke agreed as his blade moved smoothly over the wood in his hand. "But there's more than enough sandstone, and the principle's the same."

Mara's gaze lingered on Luke's long fingers as he deftly carved shape into the wood. His hands were steady and sure of his path, every moment bringing to life the image he saw in his mind's eye. He was intensely focused on the project, occasionally leaning in close to blow shards of wood away from the craving, the shavings fluttering to the floor. In fact Luke was so zoned in to his work that he didn't even notice Mara was watching him, and it was only that fact which allowed Mara to do so.

"There," Luke showed her the finished product proudly, and Mara was impressed by the detail. He'd even carved in the exhaust ports and torpedo shafts. "Jaina will love it." He put the small figurine on the caf table next to the two he'd carved the previous night; a krayt dragon for Jacen and a replica R2-D2 for Anakin.

"It's very impressive, Skywalker," Mara conceded, feigning mild disinterest.

"Would you like me to make you something?" Luke asked.

Mara was surprised at the question. "It's not enough that I've commandeered your bed for the week and you have to make me endless cups of that vile tea, you want to give me a gift, too?" Surely there were some limits to his genial nature, although Mara clearly had yet to reach them.

Luke shrugged. "It's no trouble."

"No thank you," Mara said, trying to be gracious. "I can't think of anything I'd want."

"Someday I'll make something for you, Mara," Luke said. "I promise."

Mara looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling unusually hot under his intense gaze. He did not seem disturbed by her lack of response and instead pulled out his datapad and began going through the Academy accounts. Since she'd had nothing else to do, Mara had taken a run at them herself earlier that day, and had made several notes for him to consider.

And yet now her mind wandered away from the very safe topic of the running of the Academy. Over the past few days a seed of regret had taken root in the back of her mind, and she'd had plenty of time to nurture it with concern until it had bloomed into full guilt.

"I know I haven't been the most gracious guest," she said abruptly, crossing her legs under herself on the couch nervously. Luke looked up from his datapad inquisitively. "So in case I'm too proud to say it later, thank you."

"It's no problem, Mara," Luke smiled, closing down his datapad and stowing it away so he could give her his full attention. "I'm just glad you're well again."

"It's funny," Mara told him, unsurprised by his graciousness. "I came here to cheer you about the Callista situation, and instead you've been taking care of me."

"Well it's certainly distracted me from it," Luke's smile became forced. "You should count that as a success." He looked away, and Mara knew his thoughts were drawn back to the malt-haired woman who'd so captured his heart, and then broken it. Mara felt an overwhelming desire to comfort him, to give him the same support and compassion he had shown her this past week.

"I'm sorry for what I said the other day," Mara found herself saying. "About Callista not loving you - I'm sure she did."

"Really?" Luke smiled ruefully. "I'm not." He sighed and it was several long moments before he spoken again "At its core love is selfless," he explained. "But she chose the Force over me."

Mara looked down at her hands again, unsure of how to cheer him up. Was it better for him to believe that he'd been truly loved, and had only been abandoned for some higher purpose, or that the relationship had been doomed from the start?

"Maybe her actions were selfless, in a way," Mara suggested slowly, looking back up to gauge his reaction.

Luke's face was impassive, but she saw a twitch in his cheek. "How so?"

Mara considered the matter for a few moments. "Maybe...she knew that the two of you weren't going to be happy together, no matter how much you loved each other." This was unfamiliar territory for Mara but she forced the thought to its logical conclusion. "She left so you could be free to meet someone else - someone with whom love was enough."

"But who could there be for me, if not her?" Luke asked, his voice pained. "Who else could love me so much, that it's all we would need?" He looked away, but Mara could see that his eyes were wet, and his grief still ran deep. There was a small, treacherous voice inside of her that was fighting to be heard, the voice that told her she knew the answer to that question. But Mara quashed it violently, and refused to listen.

"I don't have the answers for you Luke," Mara said quietly. "I don't know anything about love - you were right about that."

"I thought I did," Luke mused softly. "I thought I knew everything, but I was a fool. I thought love would be enough for anyone - it was always enough for me."

That was the crux of it, Mara realised. Luke was fount of boundless love, a man for whom forgiveness and compassion came as easy as breathing. Callista had known that, would have understood that Luke would have always remained by her side, because in his eyes that was what you did when you loved someone. But perhaps in hers, Mara mused, when you loved someone you knew when to let them go. When you loved someone, you could see when you were bad for them, and removed yourself from the equation to prevent greater heartache later on. For the first time, Mara felt a twinge of sympathy and understanding for Callista.

They didn't speak again, but instead spent the rest of the evening in a companionable silence. When she went to bed that night, Mara pulled the blankets around herself tightly. Somehow, even though she'd changed the sheets that day, they still smelled of him, and it had become a sense memory associated with a healing calm. She lay awake for a long time, listening to his light breathing from across the room, and wondered.