Work Text:
Luke heard whispering, sometimes. Only it wasn’t quite whispering, not in the way people did it. He wasn’t sure he’d even say it was a sound, really, but he didn’t know any better word for it, and if there were words being whispered, he couldn’t make them out.
No one else heard it, when he asked. His aunt and uncle suggested it might be the wind, or womp rats in the distance. Young ears could hear higher pitches than old ones, they told him.
Luke knew it wasn’t that. But exactly what it was, he wouldn’t learn until much later.