A/N: This story will contain themes of rape recovery. The rape itself isn't explicit, but the trauma will be throughout, so just be aware of that.
Luke had always known that his grandmother had been killed by Tusken Raiders. He couldn't remember being told it, it was just one of those things that he'd always known. The desert was hot. His name was Luke. Hutts were dangerous. His aunt and uncle loved him. His grandmother and father had been slaves, and she had been killed by Tuskens.
Luke hadn't known the specifics. He really hadn't thought that there had been more to that. Then, shortly after he had turned fifteen, he had learned the truth.
He'd snuck away from the farm to spend the day with Biggs and some other kids. Nothing happened. They'd just been messing around, and Luke was home before dark, so he thought that he would just be given a light scolding and a disappointed look. He definitely didn't understand why Uncle Owen started shouting at him the second he got home, calling him reckless and irresponsible, and did he have any idea how worried they'd been?
How was Luke supposed to know that the local Tuskens had been acting up lately, getting more and more vicious. When Owen and Beru had realized that he was off the property, they had feared the worst.
Luke, indignant and frustrated about being treated like a little kid when he was almost an adult by Tatooine standards, thought they were being unfair. He'd fought against his uncle's punishment, and that just got him in more trouble. They had argued for almost an hour before Luke had stomped off to his room. He was hungry after a long and exciting day, but eating dinner with his family was the last thing he felt like doing.
He knew it was childish, but he didn't want to see Uncle Owen and get scolded again. He stayed in his room until Aunt Beru let herself in. She carried a plate of food with her, and Luke felt better knowing that even if she had been upset that he had left, she understood, and she wasn't mad at him.
She could be a lot softer than Owen, but when Beru was disappointed, she wasn't afraid to let it show. There had been many times when Luke would stomp around and throw a tantrum, locking himself in his room, and she would just wait until he wore himself out. If she thought he was being unreasonable, she wouldn't go out of her way to make him feel better. She would wait for him to calm down and go to them.
Aunt Beru had sat on Luke's bed, and she told him what, exactly, she and Owen had been afraid of.
The Tuskens hadn't just taken Grandma Shmi and killed her. They had hurt her. Beaten her. Starved her. She'd been held by them for weeks before she finally died, and Luke understood. Tuskens didn't keep people as prisoners unless there was something they wanted. Grandpa Cliegg had told him that the Tuskens hadn't demanded water or anything else for her return, and there wasn't much that a poor woman could offer to them.
Except for her body.
Luke had immediately started crying when he realized what had probably happened to his grandmother. Beru didn't scold him for wasting precious water with his tears. She just pulled him close, stroked his hair, and let him cry about the injustice in the world.
Luke felt foolish for not realizing the truth sooner. He knew how Tatooine worked. People took what they wanted, or else they wouldn't get anything. That was how moisture farmers felt about water, even though it was seen as sacrilegious to the Tuskens. That was how the thieves on the streets felt about food, even though the people they usually stole from often needed food and money just as much as they did.
And that was how the Imps, slavers, and Tuskens felt about people. If they wanted something, they took it, no matter how much it might hurt someone else. If the Tuskens didn't have enough women in their tribe, they would have needed to look for sexual pleasure somewhere else, and where better than from the moisture farmers who stole from their land, and couldn't fight back?
Luke felt sad, in a numb sort of way. He apologized to his aunt for worrying her. He said goodnight to Uncle Owen and promised to be more careful. He ate his dinner, and he went to bed, upset, but fine.
And then the nightmares started.
Luke dreamed a lot, but his nightmares were always so much more vivid. They felt real, and like they meant something more than just an image conjured in his mind. He'd dreamed about the Great Drought weeks before the water had started to run dry. Once, he had a nightmare about Uncle Owen getting attacked, and the next day he'd been jumped when trading in Anchorhead.
He didn't just see the future. One of Luke's nightmares showed Biggs sick and weak, curled up in his bed. Luke had practically felt the sickness coming from his friend. His throat burned and tickled, like it was full of the desert sand, and his head felt so heavy that he couldn't even sit up. The symptoms went away when Luke woke up, but the memory lingered, and it was enough that Beru insisted that he stay home that day.
When Luke next saw Biggs, his friend told him all about how he'd been bedridden for a week with sand fever. That he'd had the same symptoms that Luke had felt in his dream.
He hated these vivid dreams, even if not all of them were particularly scary. They were real, and confusing, and that was why he feared them. He kept these dreams to himself, because the one time he had mentioned one to his uncle, about how he had dreamed about how he had dreamed about seeing a slave girl be beaten to death right in front of him, it hadn't gone very well.
Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen had assured him that it was just a dream, but when they'd gone to Mos Eisley that day to run some really important errands, they ran into that very scene happening in front of them. Uncle Owen took them away, and Aunt Beru shielded him from the sight, but Luke had already seen it. Thanks to his dream, he knew exactly how the slave girl looked when she laid on the ground, eyes unseeing.
Luke hadn't gotten in trouble, but he'd heard Beru and Owen whispering to each other that night. They sounded scared. They mentioned magic, and curses, and it scared him. He didn't want to curse people.
It took a few years of having these dreams before Luke realized that he wasn't making things happen. He wasn't responsible for the drought, or the girl's death, or anything like that. He still didn't know why he saw it, but he felt a bit better knowing he didn't have blood on his hands.
Still, he kept them to himself, because he didn't want to scare his aunt and uncle. And he didn't want them to blame him for something going wrong. He liked to think they wouldn't hate him for something he couldn't help, but Uncle Owen hated Ben Kenobi and his supposed magic. If he thought that Luke had magic, would he hate him too?
Luke didn't want to take the chance, so no matter how bad his nightmares got, he held his tongue and tried to pretend they didn't happen.
His nightmare about Grandma Shmi was…intense. He saw it as though he was looking through her eyes. He saw Tuskens, closer than he'd ever seen them before. They were yelling in that language he couldn't understand, and the sound filled him with a dread more intense than he'd ever felt before.
The images jumped from one frightening scene to the next. He saw countless Tuskens crowding him, with no hope of escape. Then he felt the bone-chilling cold of the desert night. He heard the screaming and begging from a woman he didn't know, and yet at the same time he knew her in his heart. Her cries made his soul feel like it was breaking, like he would never recover.
He woke up with tears in his eyes, and the broken feeling in his soul was still there. Luke stayed in bed for a long time, just staring at the wall, unable to bring himself to do anything else. He didn't get up until Uncle Owen dragged him out of bed.
He knew his aunt and uncle could tell that something was wrong, and Beru probably knew what was bothering him, but he didn't tell them anything, and they didn't bring it up. The day went on as normal, though Luke was terrified of even stepping outside, and the feeling he woke up with didn't go away.
He told himself it was just a one-off thing, because he never had repeat dreams. But when he slept that night, the first thing he heard was the call of the Tuskens and the crying of the woman.
This dream was a little different. He didn't really see anything, but he could hear and feel so much. He felt ropes binding his hands so tightly that he lost all feeling in them. He felt the cuts and bruises across his skin when he was beaten, and he heard the woman's screams with every hit.
When he felt a strong hand on his stomach, slowly pulling his shirt up, he woke up with a scream. He slammed a hand over his mouth and quieted himself to just a sob, and he couldn't stop himself from crying.
He had hoped that he hadn't been too loud, but Uncle Owen came into the room in a flurry. When he saw that Luke wasn't hurt, he calmed down. He reached a comforting hand out to Luke, but all the boy saw was someone bigger and stronger than him reaching for him, and he panicked.
Luke whimpered and nudged himself as far away from his uncle as he could get. Uncle Owen stopped where he stood, looking pained. He left the room and a minute later he returned with Aunt Beru. There was a sympathetic look in his eyes, like she knew what he was going through. Luke didn't have the heart to tell her she had no idea.
He wasn't just having normal nightmares about a bad thing, and letting his imagination get the best of him. He was seeing what had happened. He was feeling it. And it felt so real to him because it had actually been real for his grandmother, and that broke Luke's heart. Nobody deserved this pain, and that fact that it had happened to someone in his family made him feel like nothing was ever going to be okay again.
He didn't get any more sleep that night. His aunt and uncle took it easy on him that day, which they only did when he was sick. The suns set all too soon, and it was just getting later. Luke procrastinated going to bed as long as he could, but he was exhausted, and his body eventually gave in. He fell asleep, and the nightmares returned, worse than before.
It picked up right where the nightmare had ended the previous night. Luke felt hands all over him. They were strong, and painful, and uncaring. Luke still couldn't see anything, but he felt it all. He felt when he was bound to a post to keep himself still. He felt it when those hands moved from his stomach, going up to his chest, and down towards his legs. And then between his legs.
It was painful, humiliating, and invading. It felt like it went on forever, with one pair of hands blending right into another.
Luke woke up with a jolt, and he immediately threw up. He still felt the echoes of the hands across his skin.
That was his grandmother. His ancestor. For her to be violated so horrifically, it made Luke feel completely shattered.
That was the worst of the dreams, but they didn't exactly get better. Night after night, for two weeks, Luke had nightmares along these lines. Sometimes he saw something new, but it all blurred together, and Luke just wanted it to stop.
After several exhausting and traumatizing weeks, Luke needed a break. He needed to get away from the homestead. He was still terrified of the Tuskens, but he couldn't stay in that place where he was endlessly plagued by nightmares.
With the promise that he would be home before dark, and that yes, he was just fine, Luke borrowed the speeder and he just rode out into the desert. He didn't know where he was going, and he knew he couldn't run away from his dreams, but he needed a change.
Luke rode the speeder, and his thoughts turned, as they often did, to his father. Nobody talked about his father, but one thing Luke knew about him was that he was good with machines and loved speed and flying. Just like Luke. He always felt a connection with him when he rode on his speeder. A feeling that everything was fine, like a part of him that was missing had been filled.
He didn't get that peaceful feeling this time. Now, as Luke rode through the desert, all he could see was the frightened face of a young man who was just a few years older than him. A young man who had appeared in Luke's dream's last night, coming out of nowhere. He was there to save him from the pain, but he was too late. The pain was too deep.
Luke woke up when Shmi had died. He had felt the relief she felt as she finally gave in to her injuries. Her pure joy at being able to see her son again, and that he'd come back just for her.
Luke didn't understand it. How could she feel so happy when she was so hurt? Why would she be glad that he was there to save her when he was too late?
Luke felt a hurt in his deepest soul. He wanted somebody to save him, to make the pain go away. He wanted his family to pull him from this darkness he was drowning in. But nobody was coming. His Grandmother had been killed. His father was dead. His mother was gone. He had his aunt and uncle, and he loved them with everything he had, and he knew they loved him more than anybody else, but they didn't know. Even if he told them, he knew they wouldn't understand.
He didn't know how he knew, but the thing inside of him that was reaching out to his family, it wasn't reaching for his aunt and uncle. They couldn't help him in the way he needed, and that thought made Luke feel like a terrible nephew.
Owen and Beru had sacrificed so much for his sake. They took care of him when they really didn't need to. He may not have everything he wanted from life, but he had enough. How dare he be so ungrateful and still want for more?
Luke's head was spinning, and he felt a little light headed. He didn't know if it was because of his nightmares, his lack of sleep, or if the heat was getting to him. He pulled the speeder to a stop and got off with shaking legs. He knew he should get out of the sun, but he was having a hard time thinking right now. The best he could do was stop near some cliffs. There would be at least some shade there.
Luke staggered to the cliffside and sat on the warm sand. Only then did he notice how harshly he was breathing, and the tickle in his throat. He could recognize the beginning signs of sand fever. He was going to get in so much trouble.
Not only would Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru know that he had gotten careless while out on his bike, to not notice the warning signs, but they would also know that he wasn't taking care of himself at home either.
Sand fever was just what they called it if someone felt ill after being in the desert for too long. The sand in the throat. The burns on the skin. The severe dehydration. And when someone got sand fever, if they didn't treat it right and recover fully, it came back with a vengeance. Luke had been feeling exhausted all week, and he thought it was just because of his nightmares. Had he been getting sand fever this whole time? It shouldn't have been able to sneak up on him like this. He hadn't been out of the house for that long.
…Although, looking up at the position of the suns, it was much later in the day than Luke thought. And he had been so in his own head that he hadn't even thought to bring a canteen of water.
Luke closed his eyes, grimacing at the way they itched. What was wrong with him? He was completely falling apart and making mistakes that little kids wouldn't make, and why? Because he couldn't figure out how to get over some dumb dreams?
Luke drew his legs close to his chest and buried his face in his legs. It made his face feel both cooler, and warmer, and the contrasting feelings were confusing and just made his head hurt more.
He wanted to go home, but the longing in his chest that felt like it was pulling him somewhere wasn't pulling him towards the moisture farm. But that was the only home he had ever known. It was where his family was. Why should he be feeling homesick for a family that he had never known?
Luke had hoped that by taking a break he'd be able to calm and cool down, but he just felt worse. His thoughts were still wandering everywhere and nowhere at once, and even though being out of the sun felt a little better, the desert was still too hot.
He just needed to go home. Uncle Owen would be furious at him for riding the speeder when he wasn't feeling well, but he wouldn't be happy if Luke was stupid enough to stay in the desert when he had sand fever. At least if he was home he'd be able to rest. And maybe if he was sick he would finally stop having those horrible nightmares.
Luke took several deep breaths before he forced himself to his feet. His legs shook and he suddenly felt very dizzy. Maybe sitting in the heat hadn't been such a good idea.
The brightness of the suns was giving him a headache, but Luke did his best to ignore it as he stumbled back to his speeder. He was almost to it when he heard a familiar sound that sent shivers down his spine.
Tuskens.
Luke felt like he was going to be sick, and it had nothing to do with the sand fever. Tuskens weren't supposed to be in this area of the desert. That was the very reason why he had come this way. But Tuskens were unpredictable. He shouldn't have relied on their usual patterns. Especially not when he was in this state.
In the back of his mind Luke considered the possibility that there weren't actually Tuskens around. That his exhaustion, nightmares, and sand fever were making him hallucinate the last thing he wanted to hear. But if there was even a small chance that a Tusken was there, he had to get away.
But his vision was a little blurry, and focusing was getting harder and harder. He'd thought that he could ride the speeder very slowly and calmly, but he couldn't flee and dodge from Tuskens in his state.
Desperate, Luke looked back towards the cliffs. There were alcoves and caves everywhere. Maybe he should find shelter in a cave until he was rested. He could head home in the evening, when the suns had started setting and the day started cooling down. And if there were any Tuskens in the area, hopefully they would have moved on by then.
He was going through the motions just a little bit. Though he could see the cliffs, they felt an impossible distance away. Still, it felt like in the blink of an eye he found himself in the mouth of a cave. He breathed a sigh of relief, immediately feeling the cool air within the cave. It felt so much better.
His legs gave out beneath him and he stumbled to the ground. He curled up on the stone. It was far from comfortable, but the cool rock was far more of a relief than a discomfort.
Luke laid there, feeling desperate and alone. He wished Aunt Beru was here, running her fingers through his hair and trying to provide comfort. Or Uncle Owen, who would give him a simple mechanical job to do to keep his mind occupied without straining himself.
He wished he was with his parents. His mom would probably kiss his forehead to see how warm he was, and refuse to leave his side until he felt better. His dad would sternly make sure he drank water, and he would probably tell him countless stories about the galaxies he'd seen since he had left Tatooine.
Luke knew he was safe, but he still wished he could be saved. That someone was on their way to gather him up in their arms and chase away the nightmares. That someone could make the dreams make sense, and show him how to get rid of them forever
But he was alone. Nobody was coming after him.
Curling up tight to give just the illusion of having somebody there, Luke buried his face in his arms. He was far from comfortable, but he was too tired to care. Within minutes he felt the sinking sensation of dozing, and he gave in to it.
Luke felt a pressure around him that was impossible to describe. It felt similar to a hug, or being bundled in his coziest blanket. And yet, it wasn't a physical feeling. It felt like his soul was being embraced, and it was the most comforting thing he'd ever felt. He relaxed into the feeling and let it take him.
There were no nightmares or cursed images waiting for him. Luke's sleep was short, but dreamless. He could have slept for hours, with both his sore body and his strained mind demanding the rest, but he jolted awake when he felt a harsh nudge against his shoulder. He gasped and his eyes shot open, and he was immediately hit with a spell of dizziness. It was too bright, and even though there was very little noise, it was far too loud. It felt like thousands of voices were talking all at once, and he couldn't understand anything that was said.
Luke groaned and reached for his head.
"Don't move." A stern voice said. Luke froze. He lifted his head, and even though his vision was a little blurry he could see a woman standing before him. She was holding a blaster, though she wasn't aiming it right at him.
"Who…" Luke blinked to try to clear his vision. He hadn't met many people before, and he was sure that he would recognize her if he'd met her in the past. Somehow though, she felt very familiar to him. "Who are you?"
The woman frowned and lowered her blaster, though she kept her finger on the trigger. "My name is Senator Padmé Amidala. What I want to know is who you are, and how and why you're sleeping in my closet."