Chapter Text
Luke awakes to find a finely tailored green tunic lying on his bedside table. He yawns and shrugs the heavy fabric over his bare shoulders before looking at the time displayed on the chronometer. “Dank Ferrick! Come on, Artoo, it's later than I thought.” Luke runs down the empty, dusty halls while Artoo trails behind. He enters the throne room, and a wave of nausea hits him. His past masters and friends sit on the sides of the room, their eyes reflecting a warning. They are not happy with his delayed arrival. Luke looks to the center of the room to see his sister and his late regent standing tall with masked anxiety crowding their face.
“I apologize for being late. There is no excuse, and I am sorry.”
“Apologize, do not, louder your actions speak,” says a voice from behind him.
“Master Yoda, I didn't think you were able to make it.”
“Miss my old pupils' coronation, I would not.”
“Of course- and thank you,”
“Well, shall we get on with it?” says a soft but regal voice standing at the front of the throne. Luke’s twin sister, Leia, stands with a long braid down her back in an ornate gown picked for this occasion.
“Yes, of course.” He straightens his posture and starts down the aisle towards his sister.
Luke kneels in front of his sister and can't help but smile when she looks down and smothers a grin. Leia looks towards the audience and begins the speech that will be his first declaration of kinghood. Once Leia concludes, he stands with a crown now placed on his scruffy golden hair.
“It is an honor to stand before you all today as king. I will keep our people prospering and drive out those who wish to disturb our peace. Like my mother and hers before, I will be at the will of the people and protect those who cannot defend themselves. I will continue the Jedi’s search for individuals with our gifts and guide them to a new age—the age of the Jedi.”
After a crowded and busy coronation day, the one thing Luke seeks in his evening is a long and deep sleep. He gets up from the throne and moves to escape down the long hallway to his quarters before being whisked away by his past regent.
“Congratulations, Sir Luke, you will make a great ruler for our people. I will be by your side for whenever you may seek guidance,” Obi-Wan says without a hint of jealousy.
“Thank you, and I hope so as well. I look forward to working with the other kingdoms to solve the conflicts coming from the Outer Rim territories.”
Obi-Wan grabs his arm and leans in to whisper, “Yes, the Mando’ade people certainly are persistent in their fight. I believe coming to an understanding with them would result in a better outcome than a battle, though I doubt the surrounding kingdoms would agree.”
“Yes,” Luke grimaces, folding his hands behind his back. “It's difficult to get the other lands to side in our beliefs against violence; it almost seems as though they are further provoking the issues with the Mandalorians, not to mention their attacks and hateful propaganda.”
“Perhaps your rule will finally bring peace among the clans.” He takes a deep bow and steps back.”May the force be with you, my lord.” Obi-Wan says.
Finally escaping into his quarters, the new king sits down with an exasperated huff.
“Oh, Artoo, I don't know what I'm doing? I've trained my entire life for this day, and now that it's here, I can't even get my breathing together.” Artoo beeps in response. Luke drags a cybernetic hand through his hair and sits cross-legged on the floor of his room. Luke takes a look around the large, grey room that he has resided in since childhood. He takes a deep breath, taking care not to rush his breathing or let his mind wander.
“ Connect with the force, ”that's what Master Yoda had said. He opens his eyes with a sigh. Staring into the distance, Luke lets his mind wander and loses track of time. He pushes his thoughts away from the war, but it seems he cannot escape the violence, even in his mind. Luke wonders how he, the son of a Skywalker, is destined to end the war that has been fought through senseless violence and hate for years.
Luke closes his eyes and concentrates. His mind stills, and he begins to sense the pain all around him. Pain that arises from the loss of a child, parent, or partner. His face grows hot, and his skin prickles as he searches for the source of this pain. He can't find it; it is everywhere. War only brings destruction and pain for all sides; it is a senseless cycle that needs to be stopped. The Mandalorians are a violent people, but so are the surrounding kingdoms. His past regent had tried to explain to him why the Mandalorians were fighting, why the war had lasted so long, but the explanation only brought more questions. Obi-Wan had said that the Mando’ades were expanding their empire, seeking more land and more power, killing anyone who stood in their way. As a child, Luke had been told stories of the fearsome Mandalorians, dressed head to toe in Armor made from a powerful metal called Beskar. The Mandalorians he had heard of had been ugly and cruel, killing for satisfaction and power. Although those stories had been branded into his mind, he hoped that these people would listen to reason and help him end the war.
Luke opens his eyes with a gasp. A flash of light fills his vision, and a small voice echoes across his thoughts. He senses something, not the usual pain and suffering, but something else, almost like something or someone is calling to him.
__________________________________________________________
Luke senses guards outside and waits until they move on. Though being king grants Luke privileges above almost all individuals in Coruscant, he still wishes to hide his late-night escapes from prying eyes and further suspicions. Luke grabs a black cloak and drapes it over his shoulders before venturing into the maze of hallways that stretch on for what seems like forever. The hallways are wide enough for a platoon of soldiers to walk side by side, and echoes of quieted footsteps seem to ring out in alarm. Pillars line the highly decorated walls, stretching to the raised ceilings. Paintings he had once admired, now cracking with age and battles, hang from strong nails penetrating the thick concrete.
Luke pauses a moment and looks into the eyes of a jedi in a large painting, the jedi has blond hair like himself and holds a sword of light known to the jedi as lightsabers, his eyes are filled with anger as his hands are guiding the sword into the chest of a Mandalorian whose expression is masked by the thick layer of Beskar concealing their face. Luke turns away with a shudder; he hopes there is more to this world than violence.
The cloaked king continues down the dim hallways until he reaches a large door barricaded by two guards. Luke breathes a sigh to himself and turns the corner.
“You need to investigate a sound down to the left of this hallway,” Luke says, his voice strong and commanding.
“Come on, I think I heard something down the hallway, let's go check it out,” says one of the guards to the other.
Once the guards have left the doors, Luke knocks and reaches out to his sister. She answers and opens the door. He rushes in and turns to face his tired sister.
Dark circles line her eyes from the night, her hair is a mess, and her expression is grim and confused. Her complexion looks to be a bare comparison to the woman he had seen earlier this day.
“Did you feel that?” stopping to catch his breath and sits on the edge of her bed. “There was a disturbance in the force; it was something like I've never felt.”
“Yes, though it didn't feel like a cry for help, or pain, it felt like a question for guidance.”
“I believe this individual is force sensitive. I don't know how else they would be able to reach out to us. I think we should find them.”
“Yes, I agree, though we must be careful; it felt strong, so it may as well be a member from an enemy kingdom.” Leia retorts
“And? This is our duty as Jedi; it could just be a kid who's lost and confused without proper teachings. We must find them.”
“Of course, but we have to be careful about this. I don’t want to lose more allies in the pursuit of the Jedis' cause.” Leia says with a huff
“Yes, that's why I'm going to find the youngling.”
“Now wait just a second, you were just appointed king, you cannot leave immediately to chase after a voice we heard in the middle of the night, we have to learn more about this, not jumping into anything, especially you.”
With a sigh, Luke says, “ I suppose you’re right- as usual, goodnight, Leia.”
Luke turns to leave out the large doors, but looks back one last time to see his sister rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. He silently apologizes for the late-night interruption and strolls into the hallway.
Luke finds himself once again in the nightmare that has plagued him for years. He stands in a destroyed throne room facing the past emperor. The emperor sits with an unnerving smile that is splayed across his aged face.
“I’ll never become one of you,” Luke hears himself say. The Emperor only stares back with the same expression. He stands and looks into Luke’s eyes.
“ Then you will die,” the Emperor says in a voice cold from decades of anger and hate. Bolts of lightning leave his fingers and snake through Luke's body as he writhes and screams in pain.
Luke wakes, now drenched with sweat and tears. He coughs from the familiar raw ache that settles after screaming and attempts to wipe away the sweat, only to come face to face with the scars that have plagued his body for six years. They run from his hands to his legs in jagged, raised lines, mirroring the attack he had experienced years before. Why haven’t his nightmares receded? He had been tormented with these dreams every night since his battle with Palpatine, always resulting in his death.
Luke stands from his soaked bed and walks to the refresher. He turns on the light and winces at the sight of the scars that traverse across his body. Out of habit, Luke begins to trace the raised lines with his cybernetic hand, a reminder of the pain he had once experienced. With a shudder, Luke pulls his hand away and turns on the faucet of the shower. Hot water runs down his hair and across his body. Luke sits with a shiver and leans his face into the water. He sits like this until the water runs cold and his legs ache from his crumpled posture. He stands and finds a towel before reentering his room, now glaring with the dappled rays of sunlight shining through the curtains.
Luke pulls on a simple cream colored robe before leaving his room, light streaming through the cracks in the door as he turns the handle.
Looking down at his feet, he doesn't realize he has company until running face-first into a knight clad head to toe in armor. The knight is only a few inches taller than him, but they seem to tower above; their armor is unpainted, save for the symbol of Coruscant's guard painted on their left pauldron. The knight wears a deep red fabric across their neck and back that looks to conceal an array of hidden weapons.
“Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to run into you." Luke squirms under the knight's gaze; he wasn't sure why, as he was the one who commanded the soldiers.
“Deepest apologies, my lord, I was sent by your sister to bring you to her quarters.” The knight's voice is deep and slightly filtered by the bevor of his helmet.
“Oh, of course- thank you.” What could Leia need Luke for this early in the morning?
The knight guides Luke down the path he knows all too well. Luke can’t help but notice as the guard walks confidently under his gaze, but takes care to look away from Luke’s eyes.
They reach Leia’s room and enter.
“Luke, I’m glad you could make it on such an early notice.”
“Oh-erh yes of course, what is it that you needed me for?”
“Right well, Obi-Wan and I decided that for your safety as King, you should be protected from all possible danger.”
“What? I don’t need protection, I am a Jedi with years of training, I can defend myself, thank you.”
“Luke.” Leia grimaces, “It’s neither of our choice; there are some risks our kingdom is not willing to take.”
“I understand. Has the job already been assigned?”
“Oh-um, yes.” The knight from earlier steps in from outside the door. Leia continues. “Luke, this is Sir Djarin. He will be your personal guard for defense and protection.”