Archive of Our Own

"Luke," Leia's voice wavered over the holo, "please call me back. Please. I need to know you're alright. Ben, he—please call me back. They had the last funeral today—I made sure they were honored as Jedi. I don't, I don't blame you. Please talk to me, Luke."

Luke Skywalker stared blankly as the message ended, then looped over. This was the third or fourth time it had played.

He tried opening himself to the Force again, to let some of the pain bleed off into the energy embracing him, and nearly retched.

Screams. High-pitched, little children screams, as his nephew murdered them with the lightsaber Luke helped him build. He gagged under the force of his sobs and slipped onto the floor.

Leia left after a month of pounding on his door and demanding that he speak to her. Now, she just called. Luke couldn't feel her hurt the way he could feel Han's. She'd always been good at hiding it; Alderaan had been destroyed hours before they first met, but you couldn't tell looking at her. Her heart was carved from ice, and her emotions were private.

Luke kicked at the holorecorder until it shut off, and covered his face with his hands. His beard was scraggly and unkempt. He looked awful, and smelled worse.

A dozen younglings. The school's groundskeeper. The elderly woman who delivered food supplies. Their faces kept flashing behind Luke's eyes, slack and pale and cold.

His holorecorder rang and automatically accepted the call.

"Luke, this is Leia." She looked more tired than she had this morning. "Please pick up." She paused. "Please pick up, Luke. I need to talk to someone." Her voice wavered. "Han and I had a fight. I want to talk to you."

Fresh tears spilled over Luke's face as he watched his sister fight back a frown.

Han blamed him, just a little. Less than Luke blamed himself. If Leia blamed him he wouldn't have been surprised.

She waited five minutes, silent. She occasionally blipped in and out of frame. Leia dealt with tragedy through work; if she was busy, she couldn't be sad. Her face twisted.

"Please call me back, Luke." She ended the message. The holorecorder beeped, and began looping it.

Luke kicked it, and it sputtered into silence.

Slowly, he pulled his aching body to his feet.

"I failed." He said. His voice felt cracked and loud.

Everything hurt too much. His friends' concern hurt more than their anger. Luke would have preferred anger; at least it made sense.

He closed his eyes, and activated the holorecorder, closing the live connection.

"Leia, I'm sorry. I need. I have to go. Away. I'm sorry. Please don't worry about me. I'm not going to do anything drastic." Luke's face twisted. "But I can't—I need to go. I know you don't really believe in the Force, but when Ben— Ah, something… broke. I can't—I need to be alone. I'm so sorry."

He cut the recording before he started crying. Luke removed the datachit and opened the door. 

It was dark out. R2 warbled sadly at him.

"I know, R2," the words unstuck themselves from his throat. "But I can't stay."

He knelt down and gave R2 the message and his half constructed map to the First Temple. The little astromech would keep it safe for him; keep it away from Ben.

"Goodbye, R2-D2." Luke turned and ran for his ship. 

He was sure Leia had some sort of alert on his X-Wing, no doubt the second he took off she would be notified. He'd be gone by the time anyone from Coruscant arrived.

Luke ran through the preflight checks as quickly as he dared, and pinged flight control for permission to exit the atmosphere. They clearly didn't recognize his registration number, because they let him go without a fuss.

He ran the calculations for hyperspace manually. It was easier with an astromech, but there was a reason pilot's academies were so rigorous. 

Ahch-to. It was his private obsession. He was reasonably sure the planet existed, and less sure that it existed at the co-ordinates he programmed.

It didn't matter if there was a Jedi Temple there or not. It was remote and hidden. Ben didn't know where it was.

Luke jumped into hyperspace, and closed his eyes. He didn't sleep.

Ahch-to was beautiful. It was a rough, wild planet. Blue. Over twenty years off Tatooine and he still couldn't help but be awed at water planets.

There were a few outcroppings of land, here and there—small islands. Luke chose the largest one. It looked big enough for a few buildings and about a hundred people, maybe two hundred, but then some of them might be falling into the ocean.

Luke circled the island a few times. He spotted ruins, nestled among the rocks, but couldn't bring himself to be excited. Here it was: his dream. How horrible.

He brought the X-Wing in for a rough landing. There was no strip, and no flat run on the entire island, so he opted for a water landing. He landed in steam, with a jolt that sent his face snacking into the console. No blood. He clambered out of the ship and carefully stepped from the wing to the rocky coast—the water looked deep here. There was a gurgle and a hiss, and Luke looked back at the X-Wing to see it sink under water.

He barked a laugh, which quickly turned into a sob. Luke turned his face against the rock to muffle it.

There was a loud snort. Luke jolted, and only barely managed to keep clinging to his perch. He carefully looked at the source of the noise, squinting through the twilight gloom.

It was an animal. Big, grey. It looked a bit like a ronto around the face, with a drooping snout and placid, wide set eyes. It had long arms that ended in broad flippers, stumpy legs, and—

Luke averted his eyes. It felt rude to stare.

He carefully navigated up the rocks and back to solid land. The hill was covered in stray rocks and tall grass, dotted with little white flowers. A horde of tiny chirping animals startled at his presence and flapped off to the other side of the ridge.

It really was beautiful here. His throat clenched.

Luke took a step forwards, and the next thing he knew, he was upside down, dangling by his ankle.

He strained to look up at his foot. A trap, he belatedly realized—some sort of pressure based snare. It obviously wasn't meant for people. If he wasn't so short, his head would be scraping the ground. He could push himself up into a handstand, but he was so weak he couldn't hold it for long.

There was someone else on the island. Or perhaps this was an old Jedi trap, set centuries ago for someone who never came. He'd know as soon as the sun rose.

The grass rustled. Luke opened his eyes, and a pair of boots stepped into view. They were armored and very worn. One of the toes shifted against the ground, armored spikes digging into the dirt.

"Hello." Luke said, his voice congested.

The boots stepped out of view. Luke tried to watch them but vertigo overtook him if he twisted his head too far.

"Sorry for springing your trap," he continued. "You were probably expecting some animal. I guess I've ruined your breakfast; unless of course you're planning on eating me, but I don't think I'd taste very good. No meat on me, and—oof!"

Boots cut the cable holding him, and he collapsed. The blood rushing out of his head was almost worse than the blood rushing into it.

"Thank you," he groaned, looking up through bleary eyes. A man looked back at him. He was human—tan with greying close-cropped hair and flinty eyes. A scar bisected his eyebrow, and another arced up his cheek and across his nose.

He turned on his heel.

"Wait," Luke tried to stand up and sat down instead. "Who are you?"

"Stay away from me." The man snapped, striding off over the ridge. Luke struggled to his feet and took a staggering step.

He realized, distantly, that he recognized that voice. Strange accent, gruff. A little gruffer now than he remembered it.

"Boba Fett?"

No response. Luke sat back down.

There wasn't much on the side of the island where he landed—just fuzzy birds that didn't let him get too close and explicit mammals that huffed at him when he did. The other half of the island was…

Well, it was the temple, the first one, Luke could feel it. It was a cluster of crumbling buildings, and a small section of new ones, populated by small sentients. They waddled around on spindly legs and chirped at him in their native language if he touched anything.

The man—Boba Fett—must have been staying in the village as well. One of the old buildings looked maintained, if not repaired, and had a door a human could fit into. The sentients shooed him away from the house, snacking his ankles with their stick brooms.

He could feel something in the Force, deep in his gut. It was muted, muffled but he didn't dare open himself to the universe. Nothing but screams and fear would come from that.

Luke wandered down the twisting paths of the village, down to where the cliffs turned into a network of caves. Here , something told him.

Walking into the cave was like stumbling blind. There was something here, he knew it, but without the Force he couldn't feel it. It wasn't like having been born non-Force sensitive, or even the kind of low level, passive Force sensitivity that Luke was sure Han had. It was more akin to losing one of his senses. It was a raw ache.

Luke looked around, wishing that he'd had the foresight to bring a light, or anything at all, really. The cool cave air blew through his thin robes. He lightly traced the faded carvings in the the damp wall.

Faded pictures, faded words. How many Jedi had lived and died here? What sort of ghosts were roaming these caverns?

Luke sat down and crossed his arms. He preferred to meditate in a one-handed handstand—the concentration opened him to the Force and distraction bled away under the force of his focus, but his arms wouldn't be able to hold him. He… was not eating well, when he remembered to, and he couldn't use the Force to bolster himself.

He closed his eyes and breathed. It was easy for him to open himself to the Force, like coming home or falling asleep. The Force was an ambivalent ally, but it was one that embraced him.

Fear. Pain. Hate. The agony of death, the rage of a murderer. Luke fell sideways and shut himself off. If there was anything in his stomach, he might've thrown it up, but instead he dry heaved.

Slowly, Luke pushed himself to his feet. The Force did not want him, or what the Force wanted to show him, he didn't want to see. That, too, was part of the bargain: power, knowledge, yes, but one had to accept what the Force wanted to give, even if it hurt. Luke couldn't do it.

He walked further into the caverns. It couldn't rightly be called exploring, because he couldn't see. Existing, perhaps. He kept stumbling over small outcroppings of rock, and stray stones. Luke walked until his feet ached, then he sat against the rough rock wall.

He wasn't crying, and somehow that hurt more than the tears did. It was a numb sort of pain; existing without existence.

After a while, he stood up and resumed walking.

Luke traced a carving, distantly aware of some off noise but more focused on trying to puzzle out some shape in the lines. A word? A kyber crystal? Jabba the Hutt?

A light shone on him. Luke squinted, raising his hand up to cover his eyes.

"Hey." Boba Fett said. Ah. Revenge. Luke expected it, but was shocked it took the bounty hunter this long to enact it.

Luke watched him.

"I don't need a sad-eyed ghost in a bathrobe wandering around." He turned. "Follow me."

"What?" Luke's voice was hoarse from silence.

"Don't you understand basic? Follow me."

He left the cavern, taking the light with him. Luke followed him without really meaning to. Fett led him out of the cave system and into the village.

"Sit." He pointed to a table tucked just outside his little hut. "When did you last eat?"

"Two days ago." Luke admitted softly. It had been an expired ration bar he found in his pocket.

Fett stared at him, nostrils flaring. "Stay here."

Luke watched him walk over to one of the little sentients and chatter with them in their language. He jabbed a finger at Luke, obviously complaining. The sentient tittered, and gave him a grilled fish. Fett walked back over and shoved it into his hands.

"Eat."

"I'm not—"

"Eat." Fett leaned over him. "If you die, I'm the one who has to deal with the body."

Luke looked down. The fish was limp and overcooked. He picked listlessly at it, using his hands. Fett glared at him until he put it in his mouth. It tasted like nothing.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"What, you don't recognize me?" Fett smiled wryly.

"I thought you died. When Han knocked you into the Sarlacc."

"Don't remind me of it. I escaped."

"No one can escape a Sarclacc." That was one of the first rules of Tatooine—listen for the Sarclacc shifting under the sands.

"I did."

"And came here."

"Yeah." He didn't offer any further information. "Why are you on my island?"

"Your island?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

" My island. Ruins don't count, Jedi."

Luke flinched at the word. Fett watched him.

"What about the sentients?"

"The Lanai nuns are caretakers."

"Of?"

"The Jedi Temple." Fett admitted. "Eat."

He really did try. He managed three bites before nausea curdled in his stomach and he had to stop.

"Eat , Jedi. The porgs lay eggs; I'll force-feed you if I have to."

"I'm not hungry."

Fett smacked the table with his open palm. Luke stared at him blankly. A drop of rain splattered on the back of Fett's hand.

He glanced at it, then looked up at the overcast sky.

"Where have you been sleeping?"

"The caves."

Fett sneered at him. "I didn't even need to try and catch you.for the Empire. I'm sure you'd have died from your own stupidity in a matter of weeks. Come on."

"What?"

"Come on." Fett hauled him up and pushed him into the hut. It was sparse; a fishing net sat on the table for repairs. There was a low sleeping couch and a pair of shelves made of driftwood, full of woven baskets. A little stove sat in the corner, burning compacted cakes of grass. Fett moved the net onto the shelves and directed Luke to sit in one of the chairs.

"You're gonna fucking starve to death on my island and I'm gonna find you rotting in one of those caves. I knew you were stupid, but I didn't think—what's so funny?" He snapped, and yanked Luke around by his shaking shoulders. Luke blinked, tears spilling onto his cheek.

"Are you crying?" Fett's lip curled in disgust. Luke reached up and touched his face.

"Excuse me." He said faintly, and went outside to vomit. The rain plastered his hair to his head. None of the Lanai were out. They must have had the sense to stay inside during the storm.

Fett was standing in the doorway when he finished, watching him with an inscrutable expression. "Inside."

Luke looked back at him, haggard.

"You'll catch sick. Not that it'll make much difference."

Luke slowly pushed himself to his feet and followed Fett back inside. Fett didn't make him sit down or start griping at him. Instead, he prepared his own meal—some sort of tuber and fish.

"Does the smell make you ill?"

"No."

"Here," Fett threw a shirt and a pair of pants at his chest.he caught it reflexively. "Get changed. 'Fresher's over there."

"I—"

"Hypothermia can kill. This isn't Tatooine." Fett sat down to eat, clearly brokering no arguments. Luke went to the refresher. It looked like it had been yanked out of a ship, and clumsily converted into a household refresher.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked awful. His hair was matted, his beard was scraggly and unkempt. He still wore the medical clothing he'd awoken in, after he was pulled from the remains of his home at the temple and brought to the nearest city for treatment. That had been over three weeks ago.

He changed into Fett's clothes, feeling mildly guilty that he was putting clean clothing on a dirty body.

Fett was done eating by the time he stepped back into the main room. He sat in his chair, legs propped up on the table. He stared pensively into the middle distance.

"Go to bed." He jerked his chin at the sleeping couch.

"I—"

"Don't argue with me."

Luke hesitantly sat down on the side of the bed, watching Fett watch him.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"After all this effort?"

"Why are you doing this? You aren't a good man."

Fett scoffed, picking at a splinter on the table with his fingernail. "Nearly dying changes a person. Sleep, Jedi."

Luke lied down. If he slept, he didn't notice it.

"Ben," Luke held his nephew by the shoulders, "please talk to me. I'm here to help you."

Ben didn't meet his eyes.

"Ben?"

"You don't trust me." Ben said sullenly.

"Of course I trust you. Why would you think I don't?"

"You didn't tell me about my grandfather. About Vader." Ben glared at him through the curtain of his hair. "You won't teach me the way you teach the other younglings."

"Ben, that's not—" Luke sighed. "I didn't tell anyone about Anakin. It's more complicated than whether or not I trust you. If people knew Darth Vader was Leia's father, it would destroy the trust they had in the New Republic. I couldn't do that to your mother."

"You think I'm evil, that I'm going to turn to the Dark Side like him." Ben shrugged him off. "You don't think I can handle his power."

"Vader wasn't evil," Luke gently corrected him, "not at the end."

He waffled for a moment. "Sit with me. Meditate. I want to show you something."

"Why you won't teach me?" Ben remained at a distance. His thoughts were turbulent, and the little Luke could see of them disturbed him.

"Ben, I teach you just as much as I teach my other students. I don't play favorites."

"Then why are they better than me!" Ben demanded. "I'm Darth Vader's grandson!"

"It doesn't matter who's son you are, Ben. You don't inherit power."

"You did."

"No, I didn't. Your blood gives you the potential for the Force. Remember, your mother doesn't use the Force at all."

"She should."

"She doesn't want to. Besides, Ben, lightsabers and tricks don't make you a Jedi. It's what's in here," Luke touched his own chest, then his head, "that matters. Sit, please. I have something to show you."

Ben watched him suspiciously, but eventually sat. He was resentful; he had been for years. In truth, some of Luke's other students were better than he was. He took it personally.

"Fine." He spat, sitting.

Luke closed his eyes and opened his mind. "Reach out to me. Let me in."

Ben's mind reluctantly opened. Luke breathed, and summoned up his memory of his father's redemption, of his sorrow, his joy. His father's love for him was strong enough to turn him from the Dark Side. Luke shared it with Ben. It was his father's greatest moment, more powerful than any act of violence. The Dark Side was addictive, seductive, and it had a will. That was the bargain of the Force; it offered everything, but if you took it all, it would consume you as well. Anakin was strong because he turned from the Dark Side, not because he used it.

He showed Ben Vader's ruined face, showed him the overwhelming love.

Ben observed silently. Luke could feel the storm inside him, the anger.

Anakin Skywalker died. Ben pulled away.

"Ben?"

"Up." Fett shook him.

Luke flinched, staring up at the other man.

"You were thrashing. Get up."

Luke slowly pushed himself upright. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"You were only asleep for two hours. Eat." Fett put a bowl of some sort of grain on the table. Luke tried it; it was very bland and tasteless, but it was made that way, and not simply a result of Luke's taste failing him. He listlessly picked at it until he managed to eat about a third of it.

Fett watched him. "Fine. Let's go."

"Where are we—"

"Come on, Jedi." He grabbed the net from the shelf and walked outside. Luke followed him. It was only barely light out, but Fett confidently led him down the rocky path out of the village, down to a small dock. A metal boat bobbed in the water.

"I can't swim," Luke said.

"We aren't going out on the water. Help me with this." Fett held out the net, and together they unfolded it, casting it out over a shallow inlet.

"The brinestars cling to the net at low tide," Fett explained. "They're toxic to humans but the Lanai trade them for cereals. We'll come back at noon. Come on."

Luke followed him back up the ridge. They stopped about halfway up, and Fett squatted down and examined a handful of soil.

"Here." He brushed aside some dirt and exposed a small yellow root, "this one is a spice. There are purple ones that grow near it. Here."

He shoved a small wooden trowel at Luke, then focused on uncovering the rest of the root. Luke watched him, then started scraping away the gritty soil until he spotted a spark of color. Purple. He reached in and grabbed it, yanking it and leaning back on his heels. It came loose suddenly, and he tumbled back from the force of it.

Fett smirked down at him and offered him a hand up.

"Why are you helping me?"

"No conversation 'til noon." Fett pulled him to his feet. Luke followed him around the island, doing… chores. He was helping feared bounty hunter Boba Fett do his chores on a Jedi temple island. By the time it was at its zenith, Luke was sore and sweaty. Fett pushed him into the chair in front of his hut and went off to trade the spice with the Lanai. He came back with two grilled fish on a stick, and a bag of grain.

"Eat," Fett shoved one of the fish at him. Luke was surprised to find that he actually had an appetite. It wasn't much, but there was the actual desire to eat. He still only managed a few bites before he had to stop. Fett rolled his eyes and and ate the rest of his fish.

"It's noon."

"Why are you helping me?"

"I'm not. You're helping me. I need another hand." 

"Thank you for letting me stay."

"It's the only human sized place left. Everything else is too small."

Fett watched him for a few seconds. "I'm not good at this. What's wrong with you? You're sick?"

Luke shook his head.

"Someone die?" 

Luke's jaw clenched and he nodded, a few tears slipping out. "Dammit." He roughly wiped at his face. Fett waited silently until he was finished.

"Was it Captain Solo?"

"Please don't…"

"Fine." Fett stood and put the grain inside his hut. "Come on."

He shoved Luke's dirty clothing into his hands. "Refresher. Take this stuff and clean it. Go shower."

"I—"

"You stink, Jedi."

Cowed, Luke retreated to the refresher. There was a shower stall, but it wasn't sonic. Instead, it looked like Fett set up some sort of water collection system on the roof of the hut, and ran it down through the spout. Somehow, it was warm. Luke stripped and threw the clothing on the floor of the shower unit, then stepped in. It was actually extremely pleasant, which somehow made everything worse. Luke scrubbed at himself mechanically, until he was pink, then cleaned the clothing. Fett had given him another shirt and a pair of trousers, so he didn't have to change back into wet clothing when he came out.

Fett spared him a glance from where he was carving bone into fishing hooks with a wicked looking knife. There was a vacant chair sitting at the table; Fett must have taken it from one of the more run down huts.

"Is there a line?" Luke held up the clothing.

"Outside." Fett nodded to the back of the hut. Luke went around and threw the clothing over the line to dry in the sun.

"Do you know anything about electronics?" Fett asked when he came back inside.

"A bit."

"Good. Here." Fett pulled a small survey droid from a box and tossed it to Luke. "I want to use it to scare the porgs away from the crops, but the hover mechanism is busted."

Luke slowly sat down and began disassembling the droid. It was an older model, but there was no reason it would stop working entirely. He quickly located the fried repulsor and removed it. It was a little scorched, but it simply needed the leads cleaned and resoldered.

"Do you have any tools?"

Fett pulled another box out from under the table with his foot. Luke reached down to grab the solder gun, and his face crumpled. He pressed his forehead into his knees. Fett paused in his carving, and placed a tentative hand on Luke's back. It only made him cry harder. By the time he pulled himself together, Fett had finished carving the hooks, and handed him a cup of water.

"What happened?" Fett asked quietly.

Luke shook his head. Fett shrugged. Another box came out, this time with roughspun yarn and knitting needles. Luke watched through puffy eyes as Boba Fett resumed work on a blanket.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Fett's hands clicked quickly through the stitches. It was an odd hobby for a famous manhunter, but he was very good at it. Luke drifted off.

"Why did you show me that?"

"Ben, I want you to understand. Anakin—Vader—wasn't strong because he used the Dark Side. He was strong because he left it. The Dark Side is tempting. It can give you power, but the Force always demands something in return. The Light Side wants your discipline, your patience. It requires you to open yourself to the negativity of the galaxy and love it anyways. It's a compassion for all things."

Ben watched him.

"But the Dark Side isn't like that. The Dark Side wants your rage. You relinquish any self control and give in to everything that you feel. It's a self sustaining cycle of fury and sorrow. These are easy emotions to feel, Ben, and no one is saying that you can't be angry, or sad, or even that you can't be happy, but you need to find a balance. Walking that line is the role of a Jedi."

"But what if you could control the Dark Side? Bend it to your will."

Luke drew back. "No one can control the Force, Ben. It's an ally, not a servant. There is an equal partnership between you and the Force. It takes what you give, and you can only use the powers it gives you."

"You're weak." Ben said flatly. "I see that now. You're afraid of power."

"Ben."

"And you're jealous!" Ben stood suddenly, slapping away Luke's hand. "You're jealous of me! I'm Vader's legacy! You won't teach me because you're afraid I'll be more powerful than you!"

"Ben, what are you doing?"

Luke bolted upright, panting. He looked around the room with wild eyes, then pressed his face into his hand.

"Nightmares?" Fett was almost to the end of his yarn.

"Um. Memories."

Fett nodded.

"My student," Luke swallowed, "he… My nephew, um. He fell," Luke's voice wavered, choked. "And he killed them." That was all he managed before he had to cover his face. Fett set the needles down with a small click, and touched his shoulder. Luke curled towards the touch, almost unconsciously.

"How many?"

"Fourteen."

Fett hissed air through his teeth. He squeezed Luke's shoulder, then stood. "I need to restuff the mattress. Come on."

Luke stood, blindly wiping at his eyes, and followed Fett. It was obvious that he was trying to keep Luke busy. He wasn't single minded like his sister; he couldn't make up tasks for himself and fall into them the way she could, but he could fill obligations. Fett took him in, so he would help Fett.

They walked to the otherside of the island, where Luke had first landed. The grass that grew here turned dry and brittle as it aged. Nothing seemed to eat it, but it was good for insulation and padding. Fett directed him to pick the oldest strands and put them in a woven basket while Fett went to check his traps. Luke had the basket filled by the time he returned, carrying a brace of those fuzzy birds.

"Porgs." Fett said, holding one up. "Best tasting things on this island."

"Where do you get the yarn?"

"I trade with the Lanai. They keep some sort of undulate on one of the other islands."

"You row out to the other islands?" They began walking back.

"No. Other Lanai come by every so often. Their men are nomadic, I think."

"Huh."

Fett handed off the porgs to a Lanai in an apron. "They butcher them, and they get to keep half."

"How long have you been here? I mean, you seem to have a pretty established system."

"About a year, now."

"It took you more than twenty years to escape the Sarlacc?" Luke boggled.

"No. I hunted. Found my ship. I was in medical treatment for a while."

"Then you left."

"Then I left." Fett didn't offer a reason, but maybe he didn't have a reason, not like Luke. Wanting to be away from everything, away from expectations, from the way people thought of you. It was no wonder the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy might hide out on an island where no one could find him.

"How did you find this place?" Luke waited outside the hut while Fett retrieved the mattress.

Fett shrugged. "I just flew. Took the hyperspace route out from Kamino. Had to pass through a nebula."

Luke nodded. "I'm impressed you made it through. I had to use the Force the first time and still nearly crashed."

"The first time. You've been here before." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Luke joined Fett in pulling out the old grass. It smelled sweet, but was obviously flatted by use. "I was looking for the first Jedi Temple here, but I had to leave before I could land."

"Ship trouble?"

"Sister trouble. Leia went into labor." Luke's face twisted, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or sob.

Fett met his gaze. "The killer."

"Ben." Luke said softly.

"Huh. Break the grass into ten centimeter segments."

Luke followed the instructions, grateful for the clumsy distraction.

"I missed my daughter's birth." Fett said conversationally, shaking out the mattress and dragging it over to a basin.

"You have children?" Luke's head snapped up.

"Just one. I was married."

"Oh." The thought of the infamous Boba Fett having emotions other than cold fury and businesslike glee was mildly disturbing. "Is she—" Luke stopped himself before he brought up something painful.

"She's alive. We're separated."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be, it was mutual. I missed my only child's birth, after all."

"How did that," Luke brought his two forefingers together, "happen? You don't really seem the romantic type."

Fett snorted. "I was sixteen and she killed a rancor in one shot," Fett tapped between his eyes. "She told me I was an idiot and she was right. I was gone on a hunt for a year and she met someone who would actually stick around. Mandalorian divorce is even easier than Mandalorian marriage."

"What's her name?" Luke finished cutting the grass and placed it back into the basket. Fett hung the now clean casing up to dry.

"Sintas. Sintas Vel. I think she changed it to Kryze after she got remarried. My daughter is Ailyn."

"That's a pretty name."

"It's Mando'a for sunrise. Sintas picked it out. I wanted to name her Jango. C'mon. Food."

Luke followed him into the Lanai village, careful not to get too close to the Lanai.

"I don't understand why they don't like me." Luke dodged to the side to avoid getting his ankles swatted by a broom.

"Probably because you crashed your starfighter next to their island."

"It's not crashed." Luke grimaced. "It's just… underwater."

Fett glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised, then wordlessly took the now cleaned and cooked porgs from a cheerfully chirping Lanai.

"Can't you use your Jedi magic to pick it up?" Fett handed him a scrap of porg and a bowl of bland grains. "Telekinesis is one of your Order's powers." 

Luke looked down.

"Nevermind."

"No, I—" Luke searched for the words. "I can't reach the Force. Not now."

Fett narrowed his eyes. "Something to do with your emotions?"

"Why would you think that?" Luke followed Fett in sitting at the outside table.

"I hunted Jedi for years. I know their power can't be used without an emotionally stable mind. Your crying jags don't scream stability to me."

"That's… not quite accurate." Luke said. "The Force feeds on whatever you give it. If you give it stability, it's stable, but if you expect it to fuel your rage…" he trailed off. "The Force is an entity. It wants to show me something I don't want to see, and it won't let me use it until I play along."

Fett shook his head. "I don't understand religion, but sure. You can't use your magic. Easy."

Luke picked at his food. "Ben doesn't look like his parents. At all. If I didn't see Leia give birth to him, I would have thought they gave her the wrong baby. He was so red and slimy, but his eyes were bright blue, and he had Han's ears. He got, um, stuck , coming out, so his head was all squished. Leia's face—she was so mad. She planned for surgery, but then he came a week early." Luke wiped at his eyes. "His eyes got dark after a while. He actually looked a little like his grandmother when he was younger, but he grew out of it."

"Ailyn was bald until she was two." Fett offered.

Luke managed about a quarter of the bowl and a few bites of porg before he had to stop. Fett took the rest.

"It's time to check the nets."

Luke followed him down to docks and helped him pull in the nets. Helped was a strong word. Luke was mostly there to feel useful.

He picked up a stray brinestar let it stick to the back of his hand. It was purple, and bumpy. Be amused himself by touching it and watching the six arms spindle around to find his finger.

"Put that back." Fett snapped. "Those are toxic."

"This hand is artificial." Luke said, but gently placed the brinestar back into the shallow water. He helped Fett put the rest of the fish into a pot buried in the ground, then fill it with saltwater. The Lanai liked the fermented fish, and the alcohol they produced as a byproduct. It smelled like pure ammonia.

"Really?" Fett looked down at it. Luke removed his glove and curled it into a fist, watching the gears and servos whirl. "How long?"

"A little more than twenty years. It was a fight with Darth Vader." Luke offered.

"I thought they put synthskin over the permanent models?" Fett pinched his thumb and moved it back and forth.

"They did. It was damaged." Luke drew his hand away and covered it with the glove.

"Nephew?"

Luke grunted.

"Come on. I want to fix the mattress before it gets dark. It's going to rain tonight." Fett held out his hand to help Luke back onto the dock.

"How can you tell?" Luke accepted the hand and stepped up.

"I can smell it. Can't you?"

Luke breathed for a moment. It did smell like rain; thick and heavy on the wind. There was grass and the brine of the sea. The faint stink of ammonia and unwashed man. He couldn't tell if it was himself or Fett, but all things considered it was probably both of them. The breeze shifted, running down from the village. It carried the smell of smoke, grilled food.

"Yeah. I guess I never learned to notice it."

"Tatooine doesn't have rain?"

"It did, actually. Tatooine has a monsoon season. Five centimeters, all at once. The water price plummeted every year, and my Uncle had to go into town to work until the vaporators were worth something again." Luke cleared his throat. "But the rain didn't smell like this. It was more ozone and electric. I thought you lived on Tatooine."

"I only worked for the Hutt when the Empire didn't have jobs. He paid better but it was less steady. Kept wanting me to catch him a krayt dragon."

"A krayt dragon?" Luke exclaimed.

"Wanted it to fight his rancor."

Luke snorted. "You would have solved all of Tatooine's problems in one fell swoop."

Fett barked a short laugh, then pulled the casing down and began stuffing it with grass. Every so often, he made a small stitch to hold the grass in place.

"You're very good at that." Luke observed.

"Have to be. Who else would fix my clothes?"

"My aunt did. She fixed mine, I mean."

"Done." Fett finished sewing the opening together and tied it in a knot, biting off the string. A drop of rain landed on Luke's nose. "Perfect timing."

He went inside and lit a candle. Luke followed him, and came to the sudden realization that he was putting a man out of his bed.

"Here." Fett handed a basket to Luke. "Wind this into a ball. I'm going to shower."

Fett had his shirt stripped off and was inside the refresher before Luke could say anything. Luke sat down and pulled the yarn out of the basket. It was thin and undyed; the animal must have been some sort of muddy grey. Still, it was soft when Luke wrapped it around his hand. He looped it around his hand a few times before pulling it off and wrapping it around itself. The shower switched on.

It struck Luke: this was the closest he'd been with another being since his aunt and uncle died. Fett's hand on his shoulder was the first time someone had touched him in nearly three months. Before that… Leia hugged him while he was in the clinic. When he tried to hug her back, she pushed him away, then shrugged off Han and left the room. That was just… what she was like. She could give comfort but she couldn't accept it.

Luke looked down and realized he'd tangled up his fingers. He pulled the glove off his mechanical hand and worked the yarn out from around the leather. He was nearly finished when the refresher door opened. 

"I'll get it. Go shower." Fett handed him the clinic clothes he wore when he first arrived.

"I don't—"

"No excuses. Go."

Luke went. The water was less warm and the refresher was very steamy and damp. He showered, finished, and belatedly realized he probably should have cleaned Fett's clothing. He half-heartedly ducked them onto the water and scrubbed the worst areas with the soap. His hands stilled and he let his head rest against the wall.

"Jedi!" Fett shouted and knocked on the door. "Did you drown in there?"

Luke forced himself to dry and dress, then twisted most of the water out of the sodden clothes and draped them over the shower head.

Fett was halfway through what looked like a pair of socks when Luke finally emerged. Luke stood by the door and waited for him to say something. He didn't, not until he was finished with his socks. Then, he stood.

"Bed." He said.

"I'll sleep on the floor. Or in the chair. It's your house. Hut."

Fett stared at him. Luke gazed blankly back.

"Fine." He snapped. "It's big enough for two. Back to back."

"I—"

"I'm not going to do anything to you." Fett sneered at him.

"I didn't… think that." Luke shuffled over to the bed. "I snore."

"No you don't." Fett tossed a knitted blanket at him, then gestured to the sleeping couch. "I like to face the door."

Luke sat down and rolled to face the wall. The mattress dipped behind him as Fett laid down and spread another blanket over himself.

"Thank you."

Fett blew out the candle.

Ben snapped to his feet, pacing. Luke remained carefully still.

"I can be stronger than this—I deserve to be stronger than this!" A glass bottle shattered behind him. "They shouldn't be able to beat me! It's because of you !" He rounded on Luke.

"You're holding me back!"

"Ben, power isn't what makes a Jedi a Jedi."

"Shut up!" Ben kicked his chair across the room. "Shut up! You aren't listening to me!"

"I'm trying to listen, Ben. Sit down."

"No you aren't! You're a coward!" His face twisted. "You could have been the most powerful man in the galaxy and you gave it up because you were afraid!"

He paused, panting and looking around the chaos of Luke's hut. "But I'm not. And I'll prove it to you. Snoke says I'm Vader's true legacy!"

"Snoke?" Luke caught a flash of a face through their open connection—twisted and scarred. An aura of dark power. "Ben, who have you been talking to?"

"Don't you question me!" Ben screamed. "Don't you dare question me!"

His eyes flashed, and Luke barely caught his intent before his lightsaber snapped out and swung at Luke's face.

He caught it, the blade searing through the synthflesh on his right hand. Even bolstered by the Force, it burned at him.

"Put it away, Ben." His eyes blazed. "Now."

Luke jolted awake. His heart hammered in his chest and his hand ached.

He was not where he'd fallen asleep, and neither was Fett. Somehow, they'd flip-flopped during the night. Fett was still facing the door and Luke was still facing the wall, but they'd swapped spots, and were now also facing each other. Luke's hand was crumpled under Fett's forearm, and Fett's head was almost bowed into Luke's shoulder. Fett was either asleep or pretending to be asleep. Luke carefully pulled away and dropped off the side of the bed. Fett didn't stir. He was snoring lightly, Luke noted with some amusement.

The dim moonlight picked out his scars. The two bisecting his face were old and white, but despite that, they were still obvious against his skin. How horrible were they that they were still so obvious all these years later? He had more scarring creeping up his neck, from under his collar. They looked more like burns, and the skin was pitted and oddly shiny.

Luke felt around blindly until he found a candle and a holder in one of the baskets. He left the hut and silently closed the door behind himself before lighting the candle. He followed the stone path to the ridge where Fett trapped porgs, then diverted, and walked down to the cave entrance. The candle flickered eriely, casting shifting shadows on the cave walls.

He stepped into the cave. Instantly, the air grew cold and quiet; the crashing waves were barely audible. The cold stone hurt his bare feet.

Holding the candle up to the wall, he could see that these carvings had been worn away by centuries of erosion and decay. As he wandered further into the depths of the cavern, the carvings became more clear. There was even the occasional one scrawled out in Aurebesh, though those mostly looked like graffiti.

'jor teleels sucks hutt dick' 'die percady'

'haras+orerphillas' in a heart

A few instances of 'fuck'. Luke could imagine it: giggling padawans daring each other to carve something rude into the sacred walls, sprinting away at the slightest sound. It made his heart hurt. He kept walking. He didn't really know where he was going, but he seemed to be going somewhere.

Luke snapped back to reality and found that his toes were dangling over a crevice. There was nothing but empty air under them for what seemed like miles. A black wind whistled up.

"What do you want to show me?"

The candle snuffed out.

Whatever this place was, the boundaries between the material world and the Force were thin, almost non-existent, like a diaphanous veil, fluttering in the breeze. Luke did not necessarily need to reach out to the Force here, it came to him instead.

Screams, smoke, burned flesh. The weight of stone on his back and the raw agony of a flayed mind. Tears spilled down his cheeks. He forced himself to remain open to the Force. What was it trying to show him? Did this have a point, was it a lesson?

He gasped for a miserable breath. The temple bled into existence in front of him. Ben killed the youngest trainees first: a pair of human twins and a tiny Togruta, his montrails just soft little nubs poking up from his head. Then the groundskeeper, trying to shield a young twi'lek; Ben killed them both in a single stroke. His oldest student, a human woman with serious eyes and short hair, fought him, but she was nearly seventy, and no deep connection to the Force could save her from being stabbed. Ben continued through the temple. Three more humans, a tall Kel Dor, a kriffar with a lisp. The pilot making a delivery. She always had a joke and a piece of candy for any student that asked nicely. Finally, a twi'lek and a Mon Cala, the only two students who could sometimes best Ben. It was the almost that was painful. Luke watched. It was worse seeing it, rather than feeling the pain and death echo through the Force.

Finally, Ben. Luke watched him. He panted with exertion, threw his lightsaber, then stole the supply shuttle and left. Blinded by the Force as he was at the time, Luke hadn't noticed that remorse never colored Ben's emotions.

The vision receded as suddenly as it came, leaving Luke sobbing alone in a cavern.

Footsteps. Not alone.

"Jedi." Fett said slowly. "Come over here."

He was holding a glowrod, the bright light throwing across the cavern. Luke looked up, blinking to clear his eyes. The carvings on the wall extended to the ceiling. He had the sudden impression of their meaning: a warning, essentially, of what he already knew. The Force was strong here, and it would consume you if you let it.

"Jedi." Fett took a few cautious steps forward.

"I'm not going to jump." Luke curled his toes over the ledge.

"Okay. Why don't you put the idea out of your head?"

"He didn't regret it. The Force showed me; he was pleased, victorious." Luke babbled. "What happened? Where did I go wrong? How could I have missed this?"

"Take a step back and then we'll talk."

"I am not trying to kill myself!" Luke snapped, twisting around to look at Fett.

"You don't have to be suicidal to trip, Jedi. Get away from the edge."

Luke looked down into the pit again. There was a noise, like an echo of a scream, distorted across time. He took a step back, then another, and another, until he was close enough that Fett grabbed his collar and yanked him out of the room.

"Hey!" Luke protested. Fett let him go, but quickly grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the cave and back to the Lanai village. He sat Luke down at a small gathering of chirping Lanai.

"Watch him." Fett commanded, before storming off to the dock.

"What—" Luke tried to stand up, only to get smacked by a broom. The Lanai holding it trilled furiously at him. He sat back down with a huff.

The sun had risen while he was in the cave, and soft golden light cast over the village. Luke scratched his beard. The Lanai seemed to come to an agreement about who was watching him, and half of them fanned off, going about their chores and tasks. It was nice to watch them; they seemed to have such uncomplicated lives. Perhaps this was what Fett lived like, before Luke barged in. The appeal was obvious. There was nothing to worry about here except catching fish.

A Lanai child waddled up to him.

"Hello there," he smiled at it. It chirped. None of his babysitters reacted beyond looking at it, so he wasn't a pariah among the Lanai. He reached out a finger, and when that didn't get him swatted, he gently tapped the child on its bald head. It chirped again and reached up to grab his hand. Luke knew this game well enough. He pulled his arm up and let the Lanai swing from it, chittering in joy.

The Force pulsed, and for the first time in months, it felt natural to pick the child up and bounce it around in the air. The child squealed with glee as he tumbled weightlessly. The Lanai chirped among themselves, pointing at the child, pointing at Luke.

Luke felt a laugh bubbling up through his chest, and then screams in his ears. He didn't mean to, but it somehow turned into a sob. He carefully set the child down and curled his face into his knees. The Lanai whirred sadly and placed their hands on his legs. These people couldn't even understand him, but they offered Luke what little comfort they could. The thought only made him sob harder.

There was the crunch of heavy boots on stone, and Fett sat down next to him with a sigh. His thigh was pressed against Luke's. It was warm through the fabric of his pants.

They stayed like that until Luke's sobs subsided into hiccups.

"Come on." Fett patted Luke's shoulder, then stood and walked back to his hut. Luke followed him, wiping his eyes. Fett sat down on the sleeping couch and took a swig from a bottle Luke didn't notice he was carrying. Instantly, the air stank like ammonia and fish.

Fett held it out to Luke. "Here."

Luke waved his hand in front of his nose. "Is that the fish hooch? I don't like to drink, and I really don't like to drink that."

"Neither do I, but I'm gonna talk about my dad and I can't do it sober."

Luke pulled a chair over and took the bottle, hesitantly holding it up to his nose. It smelled worse up close. It smelled worse than a tauntaun. It smelled worse than the inside of a tauntaun. Luke held his breath and took a drink.

It was horrible, and it burned all the way down. It didn't even curl into heat in his stomach. It just sat there and burned. Luke grimaced and handed the bottle back, sticking his tongue out.

It was disgusting, but it worked. His head was getting fuzzier faster than when Biggs and he stole his uncle's Tatoo moonshine.

"That tastes awful."

"It isn't supposed to taste good." Fett exhaled slowly. "About ten years before the Clone War started, Jango Fett was contacted by the Kaminoans and offered two billion credits to provide four bone marrow cores and a liter of blood. They had a buyer who wanted an army of clones. He took one billion, and demanded one unaltered clone for himself." Fett held up a finger.

"You." Luke said quietly, leaning forwards in his chair.

"Me." Fett confirmed. "He wanted a legacy, I think. Someone to wear the armor after he was gone. But he raised me like a son. He—"

Fett trailed off, looking at the ceiling. "He died, and I have not been the legacy he wanted."

"But you're the greatest bounty hunter the galaxy has ever seen." Luke protested.

"I am an absentee father who did errands for gangsters. Don't make me out to be a better man than I am."

"Legacy isn't everything." Luke offered. "Ben is… obssessed with his grandfather's legacy."

"Who is his grandad?"

"Darth Vader." Luke said quietly.

Fett stared at him. It was a scandal. It was a scandal on so many levels. Luke's own father tried to kill him multiple times, yes, but if Darth Vader was Luke's father, then he was also Leia's father. One of the leaders of the budding government being the daughter of one of the galaxy's greatest monsters didn't inspire confidence.

Perhaps if they were more open about it with Ben, he wouldn't have become obsessed the way he did. Or perhaps if they hid it from him completely. Instead, Leia and Han awkwardly sat him down and told him exactly why Uncle Luke didn't like him errantly toying with the Force.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

"Your dad cut your hand off?" Fett asked quietly.

"I've forgiven him." Luke said abruptly. "And I've had this conversation a lot."

Fett dropped it. "Here we are. The last remnants of powerful men. Here's to failing to live up to legacies."

Fett took a swig, and handed it to Luke, who drank again. It was still terrible, but Luke cared less.

"You wanted to name your daughter after your father?"

"Mando'a names aren't gendered."

Luke nodded. "My mother… I don't know who she was. We think —Leia and I, I mean—that it might be Padame Amidala."

"The dead senator?"

"Yeah. We didn't want to confirm it. The Nubians would ask about the father, and that's not something we wanted to start."

"My mama was a birthing pod."

"You look like her." 

Fett snorted. "Funny."

It was funny. Luke snorted, and covered his mouth with his hand. A few stray tears slipped out. Fett reached across the space between them and touched his knee. Luke looked up, and saw that Fett's face was wet too.

"You're crying." 

"No I'm not."

Luke awkwardly shifted over to the bed. Fett didn't let go of his knee. 

"Your father must be proud of you. I'm sure of it."

"Were you trying to kill yourself? Be honest."

Luke blinked. "I wasn't. Something in the Force drew me there. I didn't… choose to go there. I just did."

"And you… looked, right? At whatever it was trying to show you."

"Ben didn't regret it. The Force showed me. Han and Leia—Ben was being contacted by someone called Snoke. They assumed Snoke corrupted him, that Snoke drew him to the Dark Side." Luke met Fett's eyes. "But I know now that he didn't. Ben made the choice for himself. I wanted to believe that he was just another victim in this, but he's not." He exhaled "They're making excuses for him, but how can they not? He's their son."

Fett ran his thumb over Luke's knee.

"That's why I can't go back. I can't destroy what they have left of him."

"You can't hide the truth forever."

"I know."

Music blared up from the village. It was a low, thrumming beat.

"What's that?"

"Full moon. The traders are returning." Fett explained. "You were in the cave the last time this happened. I should be able to trade for another bolt of cloth. Get you your own mattress."

Luke couldn't explain the sudden bolt of regret. "Good. You snore."

The bet from the drums thrummed under their feet. Luke was suddenly reminded of the Ewok village, which co-incidentally was also the last time he'd gotten drunk.

"Come on." He stood abruptly, dragging Fett with him. "Let's dance."

"What?" 

"Let's dance!" Luke's face felt extremely hot, all along his nose and cheeks. He grabbed Fett's hands and pulled him into a circle. It wasn't really dancing so much as it was jumping in a circle with another person, but it was the same thing he'd done on Endor, first with Leia and Han, then when they vanished, with Wedge, and Lando when Wedge fell asleep. Three months later, Leia looked tired, puffy, and started exclusively wearing dresses that tied under her bust, and very abruptly announced her impending marriage to Han.

Luke stumbled back, breathless and dizzy, and collapsed on the sleeping couch. He felt Fett thump down next to him.

"I'm gonna teach you to swim tomorrow." Fett said, reaching over to clap his shoulder. "I'm, I'm gonna teach you to swim."

"Okay," Luke grinned. 

Fett sobered slightly, the heat fading from his cheeks. "Don't kill yourself. Please."

Luke looked over at him, but Fett's eyes were shut. It seemed like a good idea. Luke went to sleep.

"Put it down, Ben." Luke repeated.

Ben stared at him, face slack and eyes wide. His grip tightened around the lightsaber.

"Ben!"

His lightsaber was across the room; he didn't wear it in his own home. Ben's nostrils flared. He reached up and pulled down the ceiling on Luke.

Luke held up his hands to keep from being crushed. He felt Ben's plan seconds before Ben tore into his mind and left it flayed. Luke crumpled to the ground, pinned by the stone.

"I'll prove it to you!" 

Ben's presence faded. Luke could feel everything. The grass growing, the stone shifting, the wind, and Ben. Ben's rage was molten and alive, lava burning a path through the temple. Then the deaths. He felt them like he himself was dying. Luke sobbed in agony and pain and overwhelming, heart wrenching sorrow. He died fourteen times over.

When the weight pressed the air from him, and he finally passed out, it was a relief.

The sun, Luke decided, was actively capable of spite. He groaned, and tried to roll off the sleeping couch to take refuge on the floor. Unfortunately, he was tangled up with someone about twenty kilos heavier who didn't share his opinions on daylight.

"Stop moving," Fett rasped.

"Stop talking," Luke winced.

He was half on top of Fett. Somehow, his arm was pinned under Fett's ribs, while Fett was latched onto him like a brinestar. It was something like a very uncomfortable, sideways piggyback, except Luke's other arm was numb from bunched up behind himself in a way that he knew would be agonizing the second he untangled it. Fett detached his legs from Luke's waist and shuffled away, pressing his hand to his forehead when he freed himself. Luke's arm, as he suspected, felt like it was on fire.

"I'm not doing that again." He groaned, keeping as still as possible. Fett grunted in response and stumbled over to the refresher to vomit.

Luke screwed his eyes shut and forced himself to roll over. His arm didn't enjoy it, and his head enjoyed it even less.

Fett staggered out of the refresher with two cups of water. Luke gratefully took one and chugged it. His mouth tasted… well it tasted like rotten fish, but that wasn't surprising.

It was a slow morning. They both had a few more glasses of water, then Fett ate something bland. Luke tried a bite but was very aware anything more than that would come right back up. It wasn't actually that different from how he usually felt.

By the time Luke was decent enough to go outside, it was noon. The village was twice as full as it normally was. Lanai were everywhere, trading things between themselves. Fett came outside, wincing in the bright light.

"Fabric." He muttered, and went down to the dock. Luke helped him dig up a jar of fermented fish and carry it up to the village. A trio of slightly smaller than average Lanai scurried over to help them. Fett muttered to them in his best approximation of their language, and they nodded, carrying off the jar and dispersing into the center of the village, which was piled high with crates and goods.

Fett squatted on his heels and spoke quietly with the Lanai. Whatever the fish was, it must have been high value, because Lanai in layered linen kept giving him things. Yarn, candles, grain, the bolt of cloth he'd mentioned, a basket full of bright green fruits. Fett handed half the bounty off to Luke, who carried it to the hut and came back for more. When he returned, a Lanai was trying to press a red pearl into Fett's hand, chittering and gesturing between him and Luke. Luke wisely avoided the situation and checked the net at the docks for brinestars. He picked one up and stuck it to his hand, then returned to the village. 

A gaggle of children nearly bowled him over. Luke wagged his finger at them, then grinned and put his finger to his lip, and handed them the brinestar. They giggled, thanked him, and ran off with their prize.

"Don't spoil other people's children." Fett carried a sack over his shoulder and juggled three other boxes. Luke took them from him.

"Who else am I supposed to spoil?"

Fett snorted. They unpacked the boxes and the supplies Luke brought in earlier and put them away. It was odd. Fett lived such a sparse lifestyle, but the Lanai gave him a horde of frivolties and decorations. Luke held up an embroidered wall hanging.

"This is beautiful. Why don't you hang it up?"

"Why should I? I trade them to the other Lanai when I catch Jedi instead of porg."

Perhaps Fett was just an unsentimental man. Luke had tried to live a plain life, but he liked displaying gifts, drawings from his students, knick-knacks and things he'd found. He simply wasn't made for asceticism.

"I guess." 

Fett stilled for a moment. "Hang it up on the door. It'll look nice."

Luke's eyes widened, but he found a nail and did so. Something had changed, somehow. It was a nearly imperceptible shift.

"Didn't you say something about teaching me to swim?" Luke said.

"I say that?" Fett dusted off his hands.

"I think so."

"Hm." Fett ducked his head out the window. "Good weather for it. The porgs will be gone until the travelers leave. Come on."

Fett led him not to the dock, but to a rocky stretch of coast. The waves were still calm, but the water seemed less populated. Luke wasn't interested in accidently stepping on a brinestar. The only thing was…

A mammal honked. Luke turned red and fought the urge to cover his eyes.

"What exactly are those?" He asked Fett.

"Thala-sirens." He said, sitting down to pull off his boots. "They roost and nurse on land."

"Yah," Luke looked elsewhere, "I could tell."

Fett laughed. "Come on, Jedi, I thought your order was chaste."

"That's a Republic Jedi rule." Luke snipped, settling down to take off his boots as well. "I don't make my students give up relationships. Anyways, it's rude."

"Tell them that."

The thala-siren snorted placidly at Luke.

"Get your clothes off. There are some dangerous fish in these waters, but they stay away when the thala-sirens are around." Fett neatly folded his pants and shirt. He kept his underwear on, thank small mercies.

The scarring Luke saw on his neck covered most of his body. It looked like it had been very painful, and he had no body hair as a result. It was a little odd. Even Luke had sparse chest hair.

"What?" Fett said gruffly.

"Your scars." Luke pulled off his shirt, then his trousers. "They look painful."

"Sarlacc." Fett offered by way of explanation. "You've got some too."

"Emperor Palpatine."

Fett was impressed enough that it radiated through Luke's dull connection with the Force. He waded out into the water, until it was up to his waist. Luke followed suit, yelping.

"It's cold!"

"It's fine. Don't complain."

"I'll complain all I want," Luke crossed his arms over his chest. "It's freezing. I'm going to lose a toe."

Fett snorted at him, then ducked under the water. He came up, splashing cold water on Luke, and wiping his eyes.

Luke stared at him flatly. "You can't think I'm going to do that."

"It's like ripping off a bacta patch. Come on, Jedi. Get your hair wet."

Luke grimaced and ducked into the water. It was oddly quiet and extremely cold. He opened his eyes, ignoring the mild saltwater burn. Everything was blue; he held his hand up in front of his face, marveling at the color. The water was dark. Luke shifted his toes, and realized he couldn't see them. He resurfaced with a gasp.

"Not so bad."

"Yes bad. Very bad. Very cold ."

"It's about to get colder. Float onto your back."

"I can't do that," Luke shivered as a faint breeze muddled the surface of the water.

"Yes you can. Here," Fett waded over and placed one hand on Luke's back and one hand on his chest, "just lean back."

Luke looked up into his face, and slowly leaned into the water. His legs came up, so Fett's hand supported his weight. Then, Fett let go.

"Have you ever heard of a Mythosaur?"

"It's not about to eat me, is it?" 

"No, they're extinct. They lived on Mandalore before Mandalore the First arrived. They were massive; the size of cities. The ancient Mandalorians hunted them, turned their bones into armor. Their skills were bigger than ships, with horns twice the size of a man."

"That symbol on your armor."

Fett nodded.

"What happened to it, exactly?" Luke clarified. "Your armor, I mean."

"Alyin has it. I left it to her. I don't know if she took up the mantel or had it smelted."

Luke let his head rest back on the water. "That's a little disappointing, isn't it?"

"I don't want a legacy. The Rebellion changed things. This isn't a galaxy that needs bounty hunters anymore."

He looked down at Luke. "Hey, Jedi. You're floating."

It was shocking that he didn't instantly sink. Luke bobbed there, buoyant in the water, with the waves cradling him and Fett's fingers hot on his chest.

"I did it!" Luke exclaimed, then gasped and floundered as he sunk into the water. He stood up, pushing his hair back from his face. Fett tossed an arm over his shoulder.

"For a second, Jedi. Now you actually have to learn to swim." Fett grinned, bright and sharp in the Force. Luke met his steady gaze.

In that moment, falling in love so easy it was blameless.

His entire life, Luke had been inclined to develop little all-consuming infatuations. First it had been Biggs, ever since he threaded the loop and Biggs called him a hotshot, then Han, until he opened his mouth. After Yavin it was Wedge, who was so brooding and serious it was hard not to love his rare smile. Lando. Once upon a time, Luke might've had a chance with Lando, but he let the moment pass.

Nothing ever came of his crushes. He'd been too young or too busy saving the galaxy or trying to resurrect the Jedi from the ashes of Coruscant.

It was no surprise he'd fallen for Fett. He was efficient and competent, kind when it suited him, and emotionally distant. Luke had horrible taste. He was handsome, too. He was still broad and strong in his fifties. He wasn't roguish, like Han still was, but there was something about him that suggested the idea of danger, under his rugged good looks. Again: bad taste.

Then again, maybe it wasn't. A person could change a lot in twenty years, and Fett had early gone from trying to kill Luke and his friends to… what? Living like a hermit so no one could find him?

Luke shook the thought away. He let his feet take him where he wanted to go. It had been a week since Fett found him in the caves, and he was still extremely cagey about letting Luke out of his sight. Luke didn't blame him, but something in the Force was calling out to him. It felt different than the cave. The cave was a place of darkness, a place to confront the truths you didn't want to believe. It was only the Force's nature that Luke was shown something else. Something from the Light. Light didn't mean easy, or good. It was just different.

He circled a small outcropping of rock. In his two months here, he hadn't done much exploring except for the caves and the outlying areas around the Lanai village.

There was something here.

Luke came to a clearing. A massive tree stood in the center of it. Luke circled it a few times, taking in its physical magnitude. It blazed in the Force, too, like it was holy.

Ahch-to didn't have many trees besides little scrublings clinging to life on the side of the rock face, and Tatooine had barely any plant life at all. Endor was surreal in its green finery. Luke was unused to trees.

He reached out and touched the rough bark. It sang under his fingers. It was like meeting an old friend.

"Trees, you like now, hmm?"

"Trees growing out of smelly mud dont count, Master Yoda." Luke closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the tree.

The little troll laughed. "Uncertainty, I feel in you. Regret. Mmmm. Much sadness."

"How was I so blind for so long?" Luke turned around and slid down against the tree. "I ignored his growing darkness because I was afraid. I didn't want to believe what I was feeling. What I was seeing."

"Yes. Mistakes, you have made." Yoda's ghost waddled over to him, his cane tapping on the ground. "Deadly ones. Hurt, you are."

"I'm not the one who's dead."

"No. Worse for those of us left living, it can be." Yoda nodded sagely. "Not alone in making mistakes, you are. Considered, I have: if noticed, I did, the rise of the dark side. Taken it seriously, I should have. More, I should have done. So quick were we Jedi to trust providence and co-incidence."

He giggled again. "Nine-hundred years old, I am. Much time for mistakes."

"I can't go back, Master Yoda. I can't tell Leia the truth about her son."

"Understand, I do, but agree, I do not. Tried to hide away from it all, I did. A mistake, it was." Yoda sat next to him with a grunt. "Twisted around you, the Force is."

"Yes," Luke wiped his eyes, "yes it is."

"And eating, you are not!" Yoda smacked his leg with his cane.

"Ow!" Luke yelped.

"Your ally, the Force can be again," Yoda sobered. "But accept it, you must, as it comes to you."

"I'm trying, Master Yoda."

"Do, or do not," Yoda's eyes widened, "Expectations, you have. Punished, you think you must be, so punishes, the Force does. Treat the force like an enemy, you do, and like an enemy, you become."

"I taught him." Luke said. "I taught him everything he knows, everything he used to kill his fellow students."

"Yes, teach, you did." Yoda nodded. "Blame? Yes, perhaps, but make their own choices, our students must. Only believe that we have taught them well, can we."

"I didn't."

"No. That mistake, we have both made. And that mistake, you," Yoda jabbed him in the chest with his cane, "must correct."

"I can't, Master Yoda. I can't kill my own nephew. I was there when he was born; I helped raise him."

"Hmmm. Then, do not." Yoda vanished.

"Master Yoda?" Luke called out. There was no response. Luke threw his hands up. "I'm not sure what I even expected."

He didn't bother standing up. He was crying, but it wasn't painful like it usually was. This was more… freeing. Not from the guilt or the regret, but it felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest, something constricting, that he hadn't been aware of.

Luke tipped his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, and opened himself to the Force. Energy. Energy around him, through him. He felt life, and death, and all the little things in between. A minnow was eaten, and a clutch of eggs was laid. The Lanai hummed and buzzed, bright little sparks of life, of home and loneliness. There was fear: his own, deep in his chest, and that of a porg, flapping away from a knifefish. Animal fear, complex fear—it was all the same in the Force, wasn't it? Boundaries melded and melted, space became one small thing, thirty trillion lives all singing out their joy and their love and their fear and their pain.

Fett. Concerned, considerate. Luke didn't even consciously realize it when he gave him an impression of the hilltop tree.

The water moved, the grass grew. Across the galaxy, Ben smoldered in his own hate. There was light, too. A boy, a girl, a man. Lonely and distant, Luke could feel them shining brightly in the ephemeral, colored by destiny. Han and Leia, confused and bitter and angry, at each other and everything around them. Not at Ben. Just sorrow. Regret. Love, under it all.

He breathed out, and opened his eyes.

"Hello Boba," he said distantly.

"Hello, Luke." Boba stepped closer. "Are you here?"

"And there." Luke hummed. "Isn't it all so small?"

"Not really." Boba sat across from him with a grunt. Luke could see it the same way he could see stars dying, rupturing, being reborn. There were little flares of pain arcing up Boba's legs, into the cradle of his hips, his spine, the fragile joints of his hands. Luke reached out and cupped the side of his face, channeling the Force, redirecting it. The scale didn't tip, but instead it shifted. The pain receded.

"How did you do that?"

"I didn't." Luke drummed his fingers on Boba's cheek. "The Force did, but it let me use it. The Sarlacc?"

Boba nodded. "It's chronic. What are you doing here?"

"Thinking. I had a talk with an old friend."

"An old friend." Boba glanced around.

"Yes." A flare of old love burned through him. "There's someone here for you too."

Luke found the presence and let it conduit through him. He stepped away, mentally. Boba's face crumpled.

"Dad?" He whispered.

Whatever Jango Fett had to say to his son, whatever echo of him remained in the Force, Luke didn't know. It took a while, or maybe it didn't, but when he opened his eyes again, Boba was dry-eyed, but a tension in his face was relaxed.

Luke could feel himself come out of his daze, recede from the universe. The Force was too much, sometimes, but it let him go, as it always did, and he became Luke Skywalker again. "I'm here."

"I thought you had gone back to the cave."

Luke shook his head. "I don't need to go there anymore." A fuzzy memory surfaced in his mind. Luke smirked. "I didn't know you cared."

"Well, your corpse and all." Boba stood and gave him a hand up. He curled his hand into a fist. "That's been painful for twenty years."

"It won't last." Luke admitted. "But I can  make the pain forget it's supposed to be hurting you for a while.

"Thank you." It wasn't just about his hands.

"Don't mention it." Luke sniffed the air. "It's going to rain, isn't it?"

"It rains a lot. Why don't we get inside?"

"Sure." Luke smiled at him. Boba smiled back. Luke ignored the pang of longing, and followed him down the mountain.

"I need to trim my beard." Luke stared at himself in the mirror. He'd been very vain and airheaded when he was younger, but mostly grew out of it. Mostly. "I look awful."

"Just shave it off. You can use my razor."

"What? No!" Luke covered his beard with his hands. "It took me years to grow this."

Boba gave him a flat stare. He was finally working on a second mattress. Luke liked to think that he'd been putting it off because he likes sleeping next to Luke, but that was wishful thinking. They woke up tangled in each other and gave the dignity of pretending to be asleep until the other party left. It was a nice thought to think he was wanted.

But no. Boba was busy with other things, and while Luke was getting the hang of the practical aspects of living on the temple island, he still couldn't sew. He tried to mend a few tears before Boba glared at him and told him to go back to fishing.

"Do you have a pair of scissors?"

"I have a knife." Boba offered.

"It also took me years to grow my nose and ears."

Boba rolled his eyes. "I'll do it."

"Huh?"

"I'm steady with a knife. I'll do it."

Luke eyed him. "This isn't some long and complex ploy to finally get your revenge, is it?"

"Oh yeah. You're so infamous the Lanai have a bounty on you."

"How much am I worth?" Luke sat in the other chair and faced Boba.

"Crate of fish." Boba found his knife and examined the blade for knicks.

"That's not much. You should negotiate a better deal."

"Hm. Close your eyes."

Luke did, and his breath caught a little when Boba's warm fingers took his chin. He let Boba move his face to the left and comb through his beard. He carefully pulled a section of hair forwards between his calloused fingers and sheared it off.

Every touch lingered on his skin, even when Boba pulled his hands away.

"There's half. Good length?" Boba put the knife down. Luke opened his eyes. He didn't look at himself in the mirror. It was very, very easy to lean forwards and kiss Boba Fett.

"Sorry," he said quietly, pulling back.

Boba looked down at him. "Don't apologise."

He held Luke's face in his hands and leaned in.

Luke stood on the ridge and watched as a ship broke atmosphere. He recognized whoever was in it, that wasn't a shock, but it was surprising that he recognized the ship itself.

Boba was collecting the massive strands of kelp that the razorfish liked to spawn in. Keeping it maintained made the Lanai happier, as they were less likely to be attacked by a furious queen if they tipped out of their boats.

The Falcon. It looked just as awful as it did the day Luke first saw it. It might've looked worse.

Luke exhaled, and waited for destiny to come.