Ten

Soon after Anakin had emerged from his meditative trance with the father, he learned from an agitated Padmé that both children had gone missing. What she had first believed to be a display of petulant defiance had quickly manifested itself as something far more serious when she realized that Luke and Leia were nowhere on the farm. By the time she ran to inform Anakin, his meditation session was just ending and the frantic search for Luke and Leia was already in full swing.

A small group of Anchorhead neighbors had joined them and were diligently scouring the vicinity beyond the moisture farm. After twenty minutes, Owen made the belated discovery that the family swoop bike was missing. After some theorizing that the children must have stolen it and disappeared into the night, the neighbors dispersed when became clear that they were dealing with runaways and not potential abductees. The general thought had been to leave the family to deal with their evident domestic issues.

While Padmé, Owen and Beru began frantically debating where they could possibly be headed at such a late hour, Anakin decided to take the path of least resistance. He closed his eyes and reached through the Force, conjuring the lingering vestiges of his children's Force signatures during their last few minutes on the farm. In his mind's eye, he could see them furtively creeping their way over to the unattended bike, careful not to alert their mother, uncle and aunt who were all preoccupied on opposite ends of the homestead. They had briefly argued about who would steer before Luke grew frustrated, hopped on and ordered Leia to get on behind him. They zipped off into the night an instant later.

Anakin deduced their destination almost instinctively and with near frightening precision. The answer materialized in his mind with startling clarity almost as if he had plucked the location directly from their thoughts. Mos Espa.

His children were now in Mos Espa. Understandably, Padmé was filled with questions over how he could know such a thing when he revealed the answer, but Anakin had little time to provide an explanation. He needed to get to their children, and he needed to do so quickly. Consequently, he did what he'd avoided doing since being confronted with the full knowledge of what he had become. He leaned into his new abilities without reserve and channeled them into finding Luke and Leia.

Much in the way he had when he'd been aboard Tarkin's ship during that final push against the Empire, Anakin moved at speeds that seemed undetectable to the naked eye. His arrival in Mos Espa felt like it happened in a single expulsion of breath. One moment, he was standing with his frantic wife just outside of his brother's home and the next he was in the center of Mos Espa's seedy tavern district.

Even with the late hour, the area was lively with activity. Street prostitutes loitered in the alleyways peddling their wares while drunken patrons staggered in and out of the various saloons. The stale aroma of Jawa beer and hookah smoke wafted around him. Even without the Hutts' criminal influence, the sprawling spaceport remained a den of ill repute. That wasn't surprising given that Tatooine had always operated beyond the purview of the ruling government and likely always would. Mos Espa remained a haven for bounty hunters and the galaxy's underbelly. That being the case, it was hardly a place for children, especially at night.

But they were there. He could feel them, sense the ripples of trepidation emanating from their signatures as he probed the Force for them. They were hiding from him, somewhere in the city among the scattered inn houses and dingy shops. Anakin's first instinct was to search Mos Espa corner by corner, tearing the place apart if he had to, in his quest to find them. But he also knew that giving into that impulse would only drive them further away from him. Such desperation would only further convince them that he was an evil monster that they should rightly fear.

Instead, he decided to employ a method other than brute force, hoping to coax them from their hiding place with gentle reasoning. As Anakin walked the streets, shouldering his way around stumbling passerby, he reached for Leia first because she was the one who felt the most anxious and fearful to him, and he was compelled by his paternal need to soothe her. She immediately recoiled from him, retreating deeper into herself with an almost maddened fervor. He was swiftly assaulted with Luke's righteous anger for his efforts afterwards, a brash fury born from a brother's fierce instinct to protect his sister.

Leave her alone!

I'm not going to hurt her, Luke…or you.

Go away! We don't want you here!

You know I can't do that! Come home with me. Your mother is frantic. Can't you feel her pain?

His answer to that question was apparent in Luke's resulting hesitation to respond. The guilt and doubt and confusion clashed and clattered around inside of him, jumbling up his emotions even further. Luke was angry, but he was also lost. But the thing that rang clearest to Anakin was Luke's unassailable affection for his mother. His son might be unable to parse out his complicated feelings for Anakin, but his love for Padmé remained distinctly defined. Anakin prodded further, his manner gentle and tentative due to his fear of driving Luke away as he had done with Leia.

Luke, listen to me. You were right about Leia's friend. She's dangerous. You can't trust her.

How do I know you're not just saying that because she exposed you? Anakin's frustrated curse sizzled across the Force. He felt his son's defiant resolve reverberate back at him. We'll take our chances.

Luke, you have no idea what you're dealing with!

I know exactly what I'm dealing with! The man who murdered my mother! You say we can't trust Leia's friend, but I know we can't trust you!

Another curse followed, this one softer with growing agitation. He briefly considered telling Luke the entire truth about Abeloth and the threat she posed, but it was very likely that Luke would view every warning through a lens of suspicion. He would see Anakin's veracity as little more than a self-serving attempt to make himself look good by making Abeloth appear evil. Though it galled him, Anakin decided to try another tactic instead.

You can't stay out in the open all night.

We can take care of ourselves. We've been doing it our whole lives!

The retort was a deliberate dig at him. It was a brutal reminder to Anakin that Luke and Leia had survived without him once, and they could do so again if necessary. Anakin sighed despondently.

You don't have to forgive me. But don't punish your mother for my actions. She doesn't deserve that.

Leia doesn't trust you. The words were pitiless and pummeled Anakin with the force of a charging gundark. Though Luke had already said as much already, repetition did little to soften the blow, especially when he added, I don't trust you.

Anakin winced at the harsh declaration. Do you honestly believe I would hurt you?

Luke's reply came after a moment's equivocation and, once it did, it was fraught with naked anguish. I don't know, Dad. I don't know what to think anymore.

The admission was heartbreaking, and Anakin almost stumbled from the sheer pain of it. Objectively, he could sympathize with Luke's discordant view of himself. Hadn't he struggled with the same thing nearly the entirety of his life? There was no telling what horrors Abeloth had revealed to Leia about his shameful past…the cold brutality he'd displayed, the copious amounts of blood he had spilled, the innocent lives he had ripped apart without remorse. He had been a conscienceless killer, but that man seemed so far removed from him now. He was a husband and a father. He wasn't defined by that same hopeless, embittered existence.

But there was also no denying that he had done all those things. A deviated timeline didn't wash those sins away. He didn't obsess over those misdeeds as much as he used to, but they still haunted him frequently enough. It was easier to set his guilt aside when he wasn't being confronted by constant reminders. Now reminders were all around him. From that perspective, it wasn't difficult to understand how he managed to incur his children's fear and disgust.

Unfortunately, Anakin was not thinking objectively. His heart was taking the lead, not his head, and all he could register right then was encompassing sadness and frustrated anger because the love and devotion he felt for his children essentially amounted to nothing in their eyes. It was meaningless to them.

Perhaps if he hadn't lost those ten years at being their father. If only he had been able to forge a deeper, more solid foundation with them then learning the truth about who he had been in that other life might not have shaken them so profoundly. They may have been disillusioned by the truth, but he wouldn't have completely lost their trust because they would have known the man he became in the aftermath.

It was too late to fix that now, and Anakin had little choice except to play the hand he had been dealt. If he wanted his children's trust again, he was going to have to earn it…and that would require something that he had struggled to display for most of his life. Humility.

He reached for Luke once more, almost sobbing aloud with relief when his son didn't instantly rebuff him. Promise me that if you sense any danger, you'll run. Anakin didn't bother with asking him to come home. That was already a moot point. But if Luke wasn't willing to accept his protection, then at least he could encourage his son to keep his wits about him.

For a long time, Luke didn't respond, and Anakin feared he might ignore the admonishment entirely. And then finally, softly, I won't let anything happen to Leia.

A relieved sigh rippled through Anakin. Good. Don't do anything foolish. Take care of each other.

We always do.

Anakin sighed inwardly at the irritation he felt in that impatient retort and that manifested itself in his next response to his son. At least tell me you're safe inside somewhere, and not sleeping in the street.

There was an indeterminate pause before the answer came. We're safe.

You don't have to tell me where you are but please reach out to your mother. Reassure her. She needs to know you're alright.

Anakin could feel Luke wavering following that beseeching appeal. Anakin held his breath, anticipating the moment when his son might begin to lower his defensive shields just a little bit. But just as that connection began to tentatively unfurl itself in the Force, a heavy veil seemed to fall between them, eclipsing Luke from his spectral view entirely and shrouding everything around Anakin in thick, oppressive gloom. Abeloth's ghastly, distorted visage swirled before him.

His first instinct was to yank Luke and Leia back to him and work out the consequences later, but the wall thickened and billowed, increasing the sense of separation that he felt between him and his children. The chasm went far beyond a physical divide. It was as if Abeloth was cleaving away at the connection he had to them in the Force. He pushed against the barrier in his efforts to keep sight of his son's pulsing light in the Force. The thick wafts of dark side energy, more powerful and heady than anything he had ever experienced, clouded his vision. The tendrils curled around him seductively, beckoning him towards the familiar. Anakin held himself rigid against the dark side's cajoling call.

You could reach them if you embraced it. Then we could both have what we wanted.

Her laughing taunt slithered across the Force, filled with smug satisfaction and venom. Anakin sensed that nothing would give the creature greater glee than to have him give into his baser instincts and confirm every terrible thing his children already believed about him. As frightened as he was right then, and he was terrified, Anakin also knew he couldn't afford to let fear dictate his actions…not this time.

Whatever dispute you have with me, it is between us. Leave Luke and Leia out of it! They are innocent.

They are mine. Both are mine now.

You will not keep me from my children.

I will not share them.

Don't think I won't rip this port apart stone by stone until I find them.

Do what you must, Chosen One…and drive them deeper into arms.

He was loathe to acknowledge the truth in her gloating cackle, but that was a conclusion that Anakin had already drawn himself. Razing Mos Espa to the ground wasn't an option no matter how much he wanted to tear the place asunder. The situation was too delicate to handle with his usual "lightsabers blazing" approach. For once, he would need to carefully consider the consequences of his actions before he made a move. That was a challenge.

Further, Abeloth had already begun to run interference against his Force connection with Luke. And he knew that wouldn't even be possible if Luke weren't willing, at least on some subconscious level, to allow her access. As much as it galled Anakin to admit, his children trusted her more than they trusted him. He hated her for that, but he recognized that there was little he could do about that either. Still, he couldn't resist dampening her satisfaction just a little.

You will only be able to hide your true nature from them for so long, Abeloth.

You mean as you did?

Anakin gritted his teeth in rage. If you hurt them in any way…I will kill you.

She smiled at the threat, as if the prospect pleased her. That remains to be seen. We shall reconvene again soon, Chosen One.

After she retreated from him, Anakin stood there in the middle of the semi-deserted dirt street for what seemed like hours, filled with mounting panic. He vacillated wildly between the compulsion to seek out the children regardless of the consequences or trust that Luke would keep his wits about him and not allow anything to happen to himself or Leia. Neither of those options were appealing to Anakin, but he couldn't see how he had any choice besides acquiescing to the latter.

Abeloth was strong. Her command of the dark side was masterful and precise. She knew his weaknesses and fears and she would not hesitate to use them against him. Anakin had to tread lightly with her. Further, he considered the Father's warning to him earlier and Leia's fragile hold on reality. The last thing he wanted was to fuel his children's devotion to Abeloth even further. That would be a sure way of losing them for good. But he also recognized he couldn't risk them further falling prey to her deceptive influence either. That had to stop. He needed to regroup and strategize. He needed help.

With great reluctance then, Anakin withdrew from Mos Espa and returned to the Lars homestead. When he arrived only a few minutes had elapsed in the time that he had been gone. No one even seemed unaware that he had even left at all. Owen, Beru and Padmé bustled all around him in a flurry of activity, evidently intent on executing some impromptu plan to go after the children. He was the only inert figure. Padmé railed at him frantically when she noted his lack of activity, her frustration and fear boiling over.

"Why are you just standing there, Anakin?" she cried, "Mos Espa is a dangerous city, especially after dark! We need to get to them before something awful happens!"

"They're alright, Padmé," he replied calmly, "They're refusing to come home tonight."

Both Owen and Beru whipped to face him incredulously while Padmé surveyed him with a frozen look of surprise. "How could you possibly know that?" she breathed.

"I was just there. Luke told me."

Owen snorted. "When? You've been rooted in that same spot for the past two minutes!"

An unspoken look passed between Anakin and Padmé that Owen remained mostly oblivious to, but Beru intuitively picked up on the undercurrents rather quickly. "I think this might be a Jedi thing," she murmured to her husband, "We should let them talk in private, Owen."

Both Anakin and Padmé watched in silence as the couple disappeared into the house. Once they were alone, Padmé whispered, "What else did Luke say to you?"

"He doesn't trust me. He and Leia are convinced that I'm going to hurt them."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Not to them."

"I don't understand! How is any of this happening? Anakin, what is going on?"

"The woman that Leia befriended on Naboo, she's not a woman at all," Anakin explained softly, "She's a Force entity called Abeloth."

"A Force entity? What is that?"

"She is evil in its purest form, completely self-serving in every way imaginable. Sidious pales by comparison."

"What does she want with our children?"

"The Father said that she's desperate to replace what she lost," he mumbled wearily, "I don't know what that means entirely, but I do know that she feels entitled to them. She says that they are hers now…and she's not wrong."

"Anakin…"

"They're truly afraid of me, Padmé. Leia especially."

She whimpered softly at the pure devastation on his face and reflexively stepped forward to draw him into her arms. In that moment, she needed to be held just as much as she needed to hold him. For those fleeting, few seconds, there wasn't any room for anger or recrimination. They clung to one another in a desperate embrace, anchoring one another in their sorrow. And then…it was gone.

"I'm so sorry," Anakin choked into her hair, "I understand if you blame me."

She knew that he was seeking absolution from her. He needed to hear that she didn't hold him responsible, that she wasn't silently resenting him for the rift that he had caused between her and her children. But as much as Padmé wanted to comfort him, she couldn't push the words past her lips. As much as she despised herself for the feeling, especially when she knew the deep anguish he was suffering, she did blame him. The stark realization slithered through her being and chilled her. It was difficult to acknowledge…to him and especially to herself. Consequently, just as quickly as she had gone into his arms, Padmé was just as eager to shrug from his embrace.

"And what exactly will blame accomplish, Anakin?" she muttered, "I just want my children home."

He studied her dejected profile with mournful blue eyes. "Tell me the truth. Do you sometimes wish you had never met me at all?"

Padmé glanced at him sharply and replied, almost without thought, "Not once."

His expression crumpled briefly before he quickly composed himself, stubbornly blinking back the flood of tears that threatened. "I'm going to fix this," he vowed.

"That shouldn't be too difficult for you, right?" Padmé murmured with a mirthless smile, "You are essentially some sort of deity now, aren't you?"

"Not a deity precisely. A Celestial One."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means that one day I will become a part of the Cosmic Force, but not for a very, very long time."

"Long after I'm dead and forgotten, I presume."

"I don't want to think about that…and I will never forget you, Padmé. It's not possible."

"If you're a 'celestial one' then nothing should be beyond you…even bringing our children home."

"You're right. I could bring them here right now, and hold them too," he told her, though he didn't volunteer that Abeloth was currently preventing him from doing that because he didn't see how the information would help matters. Further, that was only a fraction of the problem, and he emphasized that in his continuing reply. "If I exert my will over them, it will only make them more determined to run. They will cling to Abeloth even more and their hatred for me will continue to grow. She knows that. She wants me to destroy any chance I have of regaining their trust. The more I push them, the more power I give to her."

"Maybe I could try—,"

"—They don't trust you either," Anakin interrupted, "because they know you won't reject me." That quiet declaration hung between them. Neither of them debated out loud whether that was an option she might want to consider, but they both thought it. Instead, Anakin suggested, "We should contact Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. Luke and Leia won't listen to us, but they might listen to them."

"I hate to drag them into our mess," Padmé lamented, "It's not fair to them. Ahsoka has her hands full with helping Sel liberate Zygerria and Obi-Wan and Satine are trying to rebuild Mandalore. Plus, they're both assisting the Council with locating missing Jedi. They have their own problems, Ani."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Padmé hunched forward wearily, the bluster abruptly seeping out of her. "Unfortunately, no. I don't."

By the time Obi-Wan and Ahsoka arrived just before dawn the following morning, neither Anakin nor Padmé had slept in more than 28 hours. While Anakin didn't appear to suffer any lingering fatigue over that fact, Padmé could barely keep herself upright. She was pale and trembling and quite literally moments away from fainting with exhaustion. Though it had required some considerable prompting from Anakin, Ahsoka and Beru, the three of them finally managed to coax her into a brief nap while Anakin brought Obi-Wan and Ahsoka up to speed on the latest Skywalker family drama.

Ahsoka was too stunned to speak once Anakin finally finished his account but Obi-Wan, in his customary manner, leaned back in his seat and thoughtfully stroked at his beard as if he were contemplating dinner options. "And you're saying that you could see this being's true form, but Leia was oblivious?"

"It's as if Abeloth has infected her with some kind of psychosis," Anakin said, "In Leia's eyes, I'm the evil one and Abeloth is good. She's convinced Luke as well."

"Interesting. And you have no idea why this…this entity has become so fixated on your children?" Obi-Wan asked him.

"I'd say it was because she had an axe to grind with me, but she and I haven't had enough interactions for me to have caused her any genuine offense," he replied sarcastically.

Sensing his attempt to mask his pain with humor, Ahsoka reached over and briefly covered Anakin's hand with her own. "What does the Father say about this? This is his domain after all."

"He says that I need the dagger of Mortis to destroy her."

"Well, that's going to be a problem because Mortis is gone, and the dagger went with it! Brilliant strategy!"

"He claims that Mortis is not gone," Anakin said, "He says that it will be 'remade' for me. Theoretically, if that happens then the dagger should be there."

Obi-Wan shifted upright. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"I'd rather get my children back first," Anakin replied, "and then I'll confront Abeloth."

"What's your plan?" Obi-Wan asked.

"You're my plan, Obi-Wan," Anakin told him, "You and Ahsoka. You're my only hope to get them to see reason without forcing them."

"What do you need for us to do?"

"Go to Mos Espa. Find Luke and Leia for me. Talk to them. Convince them to come home," Anakin implored, "I've tried, but every time I attempt to get close to them, I push them further away."

"Do you know where to find them?"

"I have a general idea, but nothing concrete. Abeloth is shielding them from me now." He paused and drew in a shuddering breath. "They're letting her do it because they fear me."

"You cannot take this personally. The children have learned a very shocking and overwhelming truth," Obi-Wan reassured him gently, "It's not you that they're rejecting, Anakin, but the man you used to be."

"Does it really matter, Obi-Wan? It all feels the same."

By the following morning, Luke was beginning to have serious misgivings, his father's ominous warnings notwithstanding. He wondered if what they were about to do might be construed as foolish in Anakin's eyes. Very likely, Luke suspected. He felt a pang of guilt over it.

Although Leia was unwavering in her conviction that Anakin Skywalker was an insidious evil that needed to be neutralized at all costs, Luke remained torn. He couldn't shake off the memory of Anakin's worry from the previous night and how it had echoed back at him from across the Force. He had felt his father's incontestable love for him, his desperate need for Luke's forgiveness, his parental drive to protect them both. He had even sensed that Anakin was deliberately bridling himself, that had he willed it, he could have found them both with ease. But, despite that, Anakin had not attempted to bend them to his will. He had invited Luke to trust him instead.

Those actions seemed incongruent with the tyrannical despot that Leia insisted he was, which made it difficult for Luke to trust his instincts. After all, he had witnessed firsthand the abject terror those horrifying visions provoked in his sister. She wasn't being dramatic. He knew that her fear of Anakin Skywalker was real. And he also knew, based on the limited conversation he'd had with his mother and his father's deeply grieved reaction and resulting shame, that it was likely Leia was witnessing true events.

Yet, even knowing that, he still felt torn. Perhaps, it was because he and Leia were literal minutes away from boarding a transport bound for the Corellian star system and he suddenly realized that he had no idea what he was doing. Or perhaps it was due to his own selfish longing for a hot meal and a warm bed. He ached all over from the uncomfortable night they had endured while camped out in the small storage shed of a local cantina. He was tired. His eyes felt gritty and swollen due to limited sleep.

Or all discomfort aside, it was possible that his misgivings were based upon something infinitely basic and true. He missed his parents. That was it. He missed his parents, and he wanted to go home.

Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. While Luke wasn't clear on anything else, especially how he felt about his parents, what he did know for sure was that they could not go back. Leia's wildly visceral reaction to their father's sudden appearance in Mos Espa had been proof enough of that. They had been in the city less than half an hour when Anakin located them and that was after they had managed to get a healthy head start. The ease and speed with which he had found them was chilling even to Luke. It had taken Luke literal hours to calm Leia down afterwards and convince her that they were safe, but not before she had been stormed with memory after horrible memory of every sort of unspeakable atrocity their father had committed in his former life.

Luke experienced those terrors through her eyes. He lived through every repulsive moment with her. Anakin Skywalker had murdered children. He had relentlessly hunted, and tortured Jedi. And he had enslaved whole civilizations at his master's behest. He had willingly embraced the darkness within him, had reveled in his own suffering and was determined to make others suffer with him. His hatred and lust for vengeance became the emotions that defined him.

As a result of Luke's deep connection with Leia, he'd felt every bit of torment that she did when she saw those things. It was like suffering through a horrific nightmare that never ended, even when once a person was wide awake. It was little wonder then that Leia seemed to be holding on to her sanity by her fingernails. Being in proximity to their father only made things worse. There was no doubt that returning to their uncle's moisture farm wasn't the answer. That would surely drive Leia over the brink.

However, Luke didn't know if fleeing to Corellia was the answer either. He wasn't sure if going there would help Leia at all. She was transforming into something unrecognizable right before his eyes. Gone was the stubborn, resilient girl who had been his staunchest champion all of their lives and, in her place, had been left a mercurial, paranoid zealot who muttered endlessly about true freedom and the "release" they could find "beyond shadows." It seemed to him that Leia knew a secret that he didn't…something she wasn't yet ready to reveal to him. But she was so unpredictable and temperamental that he was hesitant to press her about what she meant or even prod her about why they were going to Corellia in the first place.

Leia was adamant that her mysterious friend had all the answers but, if that was true, he didn't understand why they weren't returning to Naboo then or why her friend would randomly insist that they rendezvous on another planet entirely. And Leia's cryptic reassurance that she would explain everything once they reached their destination did little to set his mind at ease. Luke had never felt more helpless or alone in his life, not even when he had been the lone dissenter regarding his father's death before the Empire finally fell. At least then, Leia had been his ally. Now, he didn't even have her…not entirely anyway.

"Stop worrying so much. It's going to be alright."

Leia's whispered assurance abruptly pulled Luke from his tormented reveries. "You keeping saying that," he muttered, "but you still haven't explained how you're so sure."

"Abeloth is leading us," Leia told him, "She'll keep us safe."

"Abeloth?" Luke echoed softly, "That's her name? You never told me that before."

"I didn't trust you before."

Luke's blue eyes flickered with self-reproach. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

She stared at him earnestly. "I understand. You didn't know what he was, and you didn't want to lose him. I forgive you, Luke."

"That doesn't make it right. I know how it feels when no one will listen to you. I should have been a better brother to you…so you didn't have to deal with it alone."

"It's not your fault. He tricked you."

He glanced away then because he didn't want her to glimpse the doubt lurking in his eyes. "He won't stop looking for us, Leia," he warned, "Not ever."

"Good," she replied darkly, "When he finds us again, we'll be ready. We'll be stronger."

He wanted to ask her stronger for what, but he was a little afraid to hear her answer. It wasn't the first time she had referred to some nebulous future confrontation between them and their father, but he couldn't imagine why that would be necessary. Did she think that he planned to raise an empire like he had in that first timeline? Certainly, if that was his goal, Luke couldn't fathom why Anakin had helped them topple the ruling empire in this timeline. Further, he wondered why their father, who quite literally had become the epitome of evil, was so very determined to treat them with such infinite gentleness.

None of it made sense…unless what his mother had told him earlier was true. Perhaps, his father wasn't that man anymore. His past was his past. Luke wanted to believe that so much. But then there was Leia, who was absolutely convinced that Anakin Skywalker had not changed at all. She claimed that he was fooling them all and maintained with fierce conviction that the same darkness that had turned him originally still resided beneath the surface. Her intuition about people had never been wrong, not once in his entire life. As a result, Luke couldn't easily shake aside her claims no matter how much his heart cried out otherwise.

Luke was stuck between loyalty to his sister and longing for his parents. He yearned for his mother and father, but he needed to protect Leia. That had become his most pressing obligation. And, sadly, that meant protecting her from the very people who should have represented the safest haven imaginable. His parents were no longer that sanctuary…not for his sister and not for him either. He had no choice except to fill that role for Leia. Luke was determined to be that safe space for her, but there was no one to be that safe space for him.

Overwhelmed with the responsibility that loomed before him, Luke might have fallen completely into despair over that truth if he hadn't suddenly become aware of two very familiar Force signatures right then. His shoulders sagged with relief when he recognized their comforting presence. Ben Kenobi and Ahsoka Tano. His creeping feelings of loneliness and isolation scattered in that instant.

He tugged at Leia's sleeve. "Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Ben and Ahsoka. They're close. They're here in Mos Espa. Can't you feel them?"

He thought it was odd that she wouldn't feel them given the incredible Force bond that all shared, but Luke suspected that was because Leia had deliberately withdrawn herself from the Force out of fear that their father might track them down again. Luke, on the other hand, continued to make himself readily accessible, practically broadcasting his gladness out across the Force. To him, Ben and Ahsoka were the lifelines that he had been secretly hoping for and he was taking hold of them in desperate grab.

"They're looking for us," he told Leia.

"Don't you dare give away our location!" she spat, barely sparing him a backwards glance, "He brought them here. They can't be trusted either, you know!"

"Leia, they want to help…" he insisted, "They've come all this way to find us. We should at least talk to them before we leave the planet!"

She surveyed him with deadened eyes. "And how are they any different from our mother? Don't you think they know the truth already?" she hissed, "He's fooled them all, Luke! They can't see what he is!" She grabbed hold of his hand and gave it a fervent squeeze. "No one can! Only you and me!"

Luke stared down at her white knuckled grip on his fingers, the image of their linked hands blurring from the tears that filled his eyes. "Aren't you scared?" he whispered, "We don't have anyone. We're alone."

"We have each other," she whispered back, "And Abeloth. That's all we need. No one else."

"I wish I had your faith."

"You will," she promised, "Soon you will see just as I do. Everything will be clear. Trust me. I can't do this without you, Luke."

"I feel like I've failed you," he sniffled, an intense wave of futility and fear overwhelming him yet again, "I'm so sorry, Leia."

"You didn't fail me. He failed us. And so did she. She chose him over us!" she said, her words clipped with resolve, "But we won't fail each other, will we? Promise me."

Luke gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze and met her fervid, glassy stare. He jerked a nod. "I promise."