Angela Skywalker

Shoutout to all strong and capable women.

Being the daughter of a bounty hunter was no easy thing. Let alone being the daughter of Din Djarin -- the Mandalorian, whose name made criminals tremble across the Outer Rim. He was the kind of man who never removed his helmet for anyone, yet whose gaze behind the visor was as cold as ice.

The man who taught you to shoot before he taught you to read, who left you alone in cheap motel rooms while he carried out contracts, and who only grunted whenever you tried to ask him about your mother.

The one who would glance at you out of the corner of his eye when he thought you weren't looking, as if, for just a moment, he forgot that you had to grow up in his shadow. The one who, when he spoke to you, kept it short and straight to the point, because in his world, words were worthless and actions were everything.

And... the one who believed he could protect you from ever being used as a bargaining chip.

That last part had held true until... a couple of days ago.

As any good bounty hunter would, Din had enemies, many, too many. And some of them were twisted enough to go after the one thing that mattered most to him. You.

Because in this galaxy, revenge was everything to a great many people, and there was one person in particular who hated your father with an intensity that went beyond reason.

It could have been a former client he'd left hanging, or a rival in the bounty hunters' guild nursing a wounded ego. Maybe even a mercenary he'd robbed of a fortune. But it didn't matter either way, because you weren't sure.

The only thing that mattered was that whoever it was, he had found you.

He took you when your guard was down. You had been walking through a market on Coruscant, feeling the sun brush softly against your face, taking in the music drifting in the background, the voices of creatures and citizens all around you, haggling over prices, arguing, complaining about the unbearable heat. But you were simply enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by ordinary people for one day. A day where nobody knew who you were, where nobody cared in the slightest.

Your father had strictly ordered you to stay aboard his ship while he worked-- yes, he had. But you'd left anyway, because you were young and you were done doing as you were told. You needed fresh air, you needed something resembling a normal life.

You needed, just for a little while, to do whatever the hell you wanted.

It had seemed perfectly logical at the time, you'd felt good, free, but now you were sitting in a cold cell, somewhere lost in the galaxy, listening to the hum of engines belonging to a ship you didn't recognise.

You knew your father would come -- everyone knew Din Djarin never abandoned his own -- but you also knew that whoever had you wasn't looking to negotiate. They wanted to hurt him; they wanted him to suffer.

You knew this because the bastard had made it perfectly clear to you roughly a hundred times since you'd been there. And yes, you regretted your little walk now, but how were you supposed to know they'd been following you? How were you supposed to know that the eyes of that filthy man and his crew had been fixed on you for quite some time?

You knocked your head against your hand over and over, as if that was somehow going to change anything about your situation. Stupid, stupid, stupid... You're so stupid...

But now you had no choice but to wait, try not to die of boredom, and also try not to fall asleep if that man came to talk to you, because getting shot by his blaster wasn't exactly your ideal way to go.

You heard noise. Someone approaching down the corridor, their boots echoing against the metal floor, though these footsteps were softer, more deliberate, less arrogant.

You sat up on the tiny, impossibly hard bed that felt more like a slab of stone, rubbing your aching back. They'd probably sent someone else to bring you food today, which you were grateful for, because you were absolutely starving.

Or maybe not that much after all, you needed to try something first; you had nothing to lose.

You got up and moved to stand beside the door, pressing yourself against the wall. You were set on waiting for whoever walked in so you could throw yourself at them and at least find out where the hell this ship was taking you.

The door began to slide open, and without a second's hesitation, you launched yourself at the hooded figure in the doorway, your fist raised and aimed at his face, but it didn't move. Your body simply refused to obey you, and within seconds, the figure was no longer beneath you on the floor; he was standing upright, calmly smoothing out his clothes as if nothing had happened.

"What did you do to me? Why the hell can't I move?" you demanded, panicked and furious.

"Calm down. I came here to--" he said, his voice unhurried and composed. But you were livid, and you weren't about to let him finish.

"Calm down?! I'm locked up in here because of you people!" If you could have moved, you wouldn't have hesitated to throw yourself at him again -- and this time, with any luck, you'd manage to get your hands on one of his weapons.

"My name is Luke, and I'm here to help you. There's no need to panic," he said, pulling back his hood to reveal a composed, striking face. He was handsome-- his hair a warm shade somewhere between chestnut and blonde, slightly tousled, and his eyes were a pale, clear blue unlike any you had ever seen.

Then, just as suddenly, you felt the invisible grip release you. Your hand drifted up to rub the back of your neck, a little embarrassed, and then it clicked. "Luke... Luke Skywalker?"

You'd heard the name before; your father had mentioned something about knowing him, some loose version of a friendship, though you'd never paid much attention and had certainly never pictured him like this. You'd expected someone... older.

He nodded and extended his gloved hand to help you up. It was cool to the touch. "I see your father has told you about me."

"Uh... yeah... You could say that... he's mentioned you, a bit." An awkward silence settled between you for a moment. Your eyes drifted over him. He was dressed entirely in black, and at his hip hung... was that a lightsaber?

"Wait, are you actually a Jedi?" Luke smiled and gave a small nod. You'd never seen one in person. You'd always half-assumed your father made them up just to get you to listen to his stories. You thought they'd all died out years ago.

"Come on. We can't afford to waste time."

Reality snapped back into focus. You were still on that unfamiliar ship, in an unknown location, surrounded by strangers who, now that you thought about it, you hadn't heard a single sound from -- and now you were standing next to... what exactly? A new acquaintance?

You fell into step behind him as he led you through the ship toward the hangar bay, where his vessel was docked. It was a standard X-wing.

"Where is everybody? I could have sworn--" But he cut you off, there was no time for questions right now.

"I've taken care of that -- but not for long. Come on, get in." You climbed aboard and settled into the co-pilot's seat. It wasn't your first time in one of these, but you weren't exactly familiar with them either; your father always flew his N-1 Naboo Starfighter, which you had always thought had a far more elegant design.

Suddenly, you began to hear voices, and you understood exactly what Luke had meant.

"Over here!!" The thunder of boots against the metal floor was getting closer by the second.

"How could you let her escape, you useless idiots!"

"But sir, it was a Jedi, he-"

"I don't want excuses! Get them -- both of them -- right now!"

Within seconds, roughly ten people came rushing into view, weapons drawn, some already firing. Luke was up and in his seat in an instant, and the ship roared to life beneath you. In moments, you were tearing away from that place and into open space.

"Maker!" You laughed, buzzing with adrenaline, but Luke stayed fixed ahead, eyes locked on the stars. "That was insane."

As the rush began to fade, you turned your attention to the interior of the ship. It was almost immaculate; you could tell he was someone who liked things done properly. Your eyes wandered across the controls, trying to figure out what each button did. Ships had never particularly interested you, if you were honest, but with nothing else to do, you figured you might as well try.

Once you'd put enough distance between yourselves and that place, you finally felt like talking again. You glanced over at him; his gaze was still fixed on the expanse of space ahead.

You cleared your throat and propped your feet up on the seat. "So... thanks for the rescue and everything... But what exactly are we supposed to do now? They're probably going to come after us, no pressure or anything-- I'd just really prefer not to get our asses blown up."

He looked over at you, caught slightly off guard, but quickly let his expression settle and stayed quiet for a moment. He seemed unused to being spoken to with such casual familiarity -- or maybe you were just a little foul-mouthed.

"Alright... The original plan was to meet your father back on Tatooine, but the main route still has Imperial remnants along it, so we'll have to take a longer way around. It'll add about a day."

With that, Luke set the ship on course for the desert planet. As he'd said, it was a long journey, so you had no choice but to try and keep some kind of conversation going, fill the space between you with something.

"I've never actually seen a real Jedi before... Do you actually have powers?"

"Mm... kind of." He wasn't much of a talker, that much was clear, but you had a feeling that with a little effort, you could get him to open up. There had to be more going on behind those blue eyes than he let on.

Getting people around you to feel at ease had always come naturally to you, somehow. One of your greatest gifts was knowing how to talk to people.

Time passed, and you kept at it -- asking questions, feeding your curiosity -- and with each one, his answers grew a little longer, a little less clipped. He seemed to be slowly enjoying the novelty of talking to someone without any agenda behind it, without anything at stake.

Somewhere along the way, you'd also managed to eat something, finally.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"Do you know why the scarecrow got a promotion?"

"..."

"Because he was outstanding in his field."

"..."

"Come on... that was funny."

"That is the worst joke I have ever heard in my life."

You laughed softly. "Alright... let me try another one."

"I'm so tired of people making jokes about the apocalypse... It's like there's no tomorrow."

You went quiet, watching him from the corner of your eye, barely holding back your own stupid grin, and for the first time all day, you saw something genuine break across his face. A real laugh.

"Alright... that one was better."

"You're boring, Jedi Skywalker."

---

When Luke noticed your eyes closing on their own and that you'd finally run out of things to say, he brought the ship down on the nearest planet and, careful not to draw attention, the two of you made your way to the first open motel you could find and asked for two rooms.

The friendly Twi'lek at the front desk handed over the keys, and you headed up the stairs to the guest floor. The place had seen better days; it was worn down by time in the way only old buildings can be, but it was warm and oddly welcoming despite it all.

When you reached your room, you looked at each other one last time.

"Goodnight," you said, stifling a yawn.

Luke gave a small nod. "If you need anything, come find me. I'm in room 340, one floor up."

You shut the door and, exhausted, peeled off your clothes down to your underwear, washed your face at the small sink, and slipped under the sheets of the surprisingly spacious bed. You turned off the light, and sleep took you almost instantly, the tension that had been coiled tight inside you for days finally letting go, your mind sinking into silence.

---

A strange noise pulled you out of a deep sleep. It was the window; maybe something had been thrown at it, or a bird had flown into the glass. Still half-asleep, you opened your eyes and sat up to see what was going on.

The drowsiness evaporated fast when you felt something cold press against your temple. A weapon, aimed directly at you. The room was lit only by the faint glow filtering through the window, and you could barely make out the figure standing over you.

"Try to scream and I'll blow your head off."

You nodded, much as it pained you to, but you weren't ready to die today.

He pulled the weapon back slowly and reached for a rope at his belt. "Get up," he said, grabbing your arm roughly.

"Can I at least get dressed first?" You tilted your head slightly, hoping whatever expression you were pulling might get through to him. A few seconds of silence stretched between you, then you felt him step back just enough.

"Make it quick."

You moved slowly toward your clothes and began to dress, feeling uncomfortably exposed. For once, you were grateful the lights were off.

You were almost certain he was one of the henchmen working for whoever had taken you the first time; something about his voice was familiar, like you'd heard it before.

You were far too vulnerable to fight back; you had no weapon of any kind, and that left you with one option.

Run.

You didn't even stop for your shoes. In the blink of an eye, you threw the door open and bolted down the long corridor, sprinting toward the staircase, toward the floor where Luke was sleeping -- but the bastard fired.

Pain, pure, white-hot pain. You'd never been shot before, and you were absolutely certain you never wanted it to happen again. From the sound, you knew it was a blaster -- and it had gone clean through your shoulder. You hit the floor and looked up at him with pure hatred. If you were going to die, at least it would be with some dignity.

"I'm done with you," he said flatly, and you watched the barrel of his blaster swing toward your head. You were done for. You squeezed your eyes shut, clutching your shoulder with a trembling hand.

Maybe this was the galaxy's way of getting even with you, for being so insufferably reckless sometimes, for disobeying your father, among the many other things you'd managed to do across your not particularly long life.

A loud sound tore through the air, and you braced yourself, but nothing came. When you opened your eyes, Luke was crouching in front of you. The other man was on the floor. No longer a threat... No longer anything.

Luke was speaking to you, but you couldn't make out the words. He moved carefully to lift you into his arms, but the pain was too much, too overwhelming. Bit by bit, your vision blurred at the edges and... everything went dark.

---

Consciousness crept back to you slowly. You were lying on something soft -- no longer on the floor. You opened your eyes, blinking until the blur gave way to clarity.

You took a slow breath when you confirmed all your limbs were still where they were supposed to be. Then you tried to sit up, and a sharp, searing pain tore through your shoulder. You winced, and it all came rushing back.

You didn't recognise the room. A medical droid stood beside you, arranging instruments with quiet efficiency, so you assumed you were in some kind of medical facility.

"You should not be getting up," the droid said. "You are recovering from a serious wound. You need to rest." A moment later, the 2-1B unit turned and left the room.

You ignored it entirely and tried to sit up again, this time successfully, managing to pull yourself into a decent upright position.

The door opened again, and this time the face was one you knew better than any other. Your father. The first thing he did when he stepped inside was remove his helmet, revealing a face full of relief and lingering worry.

He crossed the room and sat down beside you.

"Dad."

"Hey." You felt his eyes move over you carefully, making sure you were real, making sure you were whole. "Thank the Maker..."

You gave a small smile. "It wasn't that bad. I'm fine." You didn't want the moment to feel too heavy; it made you uncomfortable. You had always hated the idea of people seeing you at your lowest, so you had long made a habit of keeping that sort of thing to yourself.

"Come here," Din said quietly, opening his arms. You sighed and gave in, resting your head against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him; metal and leather and something that had always just meant home.

"Where exactly are we?" you murmured, and he pulled back slowly, hands resting on your shoulders.

"Ossus. This is Skywalker's Jedi temple."

"And... why are we here instead of Tatooine?" You frowned. Knowing him, this couldn't be straightforward.

He held your gaze and spoke plainly. "I have some unfinished business to take care of." He didn't need to say more, you already knew what that meant -- but you tried anyway.

"Right. Fine. Then let's go," you said, scanning the room for your things. There was nothing, just a few empty cots and some scattered medical equipment.

"Absolutely not. You're staying here and recovering."

"But-"

"No buts. You're in no shape to go anywhere with me. You'll only end up worse."

"So you're just going to leave me here, on an unknown planet, with someone I barely know? Brilliant, Din." You were irritated, and it felt entirely justified.

"Luke is the person I trust most right now, especially for what needs to be done. So that's how it is. I need someone to keep an eye on you, and I know he'll do it right."

"But-"

"I said no. You know I'll come back for you when the job is done. And besides, you need to learn to handle yourself better. There's no better teacher than a Jedi."

"Are you calling me weak?"

"I'm saying you have room to improve."

"Are you aware that everything I know, you taught me?"

"...I should get going."

You looked down and said nothing, pressing back the tears that were quietly threatening to spill; you refused to let him see that.

Knowing better than to push when you got like this, he stood and looked at you one last time. "You'll thank me for this. And I will come back for you -- I've already told you that."

"I hate you."

"Take care of yourself. And do me a favour -- listen to Luke."

"I'm not ten."

With that, he walked out the door and left you sitting there, as if a blaster bolt hadn't torn through your body, and you hadn't spent two days as someone's captive. But deep down, you wouldn't have him any other way.

You listened to the N-1 lift off and fade into the sky, and felt a deep, quiet pang of envy. You'd give anything to fly away from everything sometimes -- just you, and no one else.

After a few minutes of grumbling quietly to yourself, you finally got up. There were clothes folded on the small chest by the wall; you dressed carefully, wincing at the pull of the wound with each careful movement. The clothes were nothing like what you were used to. Simpler, more formal in feel, not unlike what you remembered Luke wearing, but more understated. You didn't feel quite like yourself in them.

You took a couple of slow, steadying breaths and stepped outside. The room opened directly onto the outdoors, and the structure was built from timber and sat along a wide mountain ridge. Wonderful, you were stranded in a valley, which was almost certainly in the middle of nowhere.

You walked for a little while, listening to the birds and the wind moving through the trees. The nature around you was lush -- deeply green and alive in a way you weren't used to. You had to admit, grudgingly, that there was something genuinely peaceful about it. Far removed from the chaos that had made up most of your life.

If this was what you were in for, it could be worse.

You kept walking and spotted a figure sitting some distance ahead. No question who it was.

"Hey," you called out -- then immediately felt a small pang of guilt, realising you were probably interrupting something.

You approached quietly, trying not to make much noise. He was sitting with his eyes closed. Was he meditating? Curiosity got the better of you and you sat down across from him, studying the calm of his face. More accurately, you stared for quite a while before he finally opened his eyes and found yours.

You looked away quickly, pretending you hadn't been watching, but it wasn't convincing in the least, so you did the only sensible thing and started talking.

"Do I have to do that too?" you asked, with genuine uncertainty in your voice. He gave a slight smile and shook his head.

"It's not required."

You smiled back, your fingers brushing idly through the grass beside you. It was damp. "I didn't know you taught as well. Where are your students? Are they children? I didn't see anyone on the way here."

You noticed the question landed somewhere tender, though he was very good at keeping his reactions contained. "You're the first person I've had here. I haven't been running things for long."

"But I'm not even one of you!"

"That doesn't matter to me. I'd just appreciate some company around the place. There's plenty I can teach you that has nothing to do with being a Jedi."

"I am not being your guinea pig."

"I'm not asking you to be."

"And I'm not calling you 'Master' or anything like that either."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

You cleared your throat. "Right... and in all seriousness...thank you. For the other day. If you hadn't shown up when you did, that man would have put a blaster bolt through my skull."

It didn't come easily, admitting that you'd needed help, but the least you could do was acknowledge what Luke had done for you. He hadn't been obligated to do any of it -- he'd done it because he'd chosen to.

"It's nothing, looking out for others is what I'm here for."

A brief silence settled between you before he spoke again.

"I owe you an apology, though. For not being able to prevent what happened." His eyes dropped briefly to your shoulder, then back to your face. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough."

"That's not on you. You'd already done more than enough."

"...How are you feeling? Does it hurt much?"

"It hurts. But it's manageable."

"If you need me to, I can take a look at it."

"I'm alright, but thank you." You'd rather avoid the awkwardness of that particular situation.

He nodded. "Don't worry -- 2-1B will have you back on your feet quickly. It's a good unit."

"I hope so." You exhaled with a small smile, then added, "Well, I don't want to keep you. Would it be alright if I went and had a look around?"

"Of course. Make yourself at home... As for quarters, pick whichever one you like; they're all the same. I'll bring you clothes and anything else you need later on."

You weren't sure how someone could be that naturally generous without seeming like they were trying, but you found that you liked it.

"Thank you," you said, getting to your feet.

"I'll see you at dinner."

Right -- dinner. You hadn't thought about that. You gave him one last smile and walked away.

You spent the rest of the day exploring. The temple was modest, little more than a main stone structure with a sloped roof. At its centre was a circular room you assumed was used for meditation and whatever else Jedi did with their time.

A few smaller outbuildings surrounded it. You stepped into each one and found that the first was a shared dining area, and the second was the dormitory block, where you gathered that both you and Luke would be sleeping before long.

It was all clearly still in the process of being finished. The bones were there, but it lacked the decorative touches and finer details that would make it feel complete.

There were no great libraries, no towering columns. Just a quiet, unassuming temple in the middle of the jungle. You were going to miss the constant movement of life on the road with your father.

You picked a room at random, as Luke had suggested. It held a tall wardrobe, a single bed, and a desk bolted to the wall with a chair pushed beneath it. Bare and functional, but tidy, and enough.

That night, after the medical droid changed your bandage and applied a fresh bacta patch, you rested as best you could. Your body was still worn through, and your mind refused to fully let go, too many loose threads, too many things left unresolved.

Keep an open mind, you told yourself. Luke was kind -- genuinely so -- and if anyone could teach you something worth knowing, it was probably him.

---

The days on Ossus were quiet, and though the lack of action grated on you at first, as the days passed you found yourself settling into it.

Luke rose at dawn -- something you were entirely unaccustomed to, and took considerably longer to manage. When you finally dragged yourself out of bed, you'd make your way down to the small kitchen and put together something simple for breakfast: fruit, toasted bread, or whatever light thing he or the cooking droid had left out the night before.

You usually sat beside him at meals -- both lunch and dinner -- and it was one of the few times where silence was just allowed to exist. Only a handful of words passed between you.

When your wound had healed enough to handle things that required real effort, Luke would be waiting for you in the dojo after breakfast, which was really just a clearing in the forest.

You'd spend hours there working through the basics: stretching, balance, slow and deliberate movements with training sticks. It was nothing like the way your father had trained you, where everything was fast and rough and unforgiving. Here, everything was controlled, almost meditative, and it frustrated you more often than you wanted to admit. But Luke held to his usual calm, correcting your form with steady hands.

His fingers would settle at your waist or your shoulders with a frequency you couldn't quite ignore, and however hard you tried not to react, it was impossible to deny that his touch stirred something in you.

He, for his part, seemed not to notice. Or at least, he never let on that he did.

---

Luke was sitting across from you, the morning sun falling softly across his face. He'd talked you into trying to meditate with him -- much against your better judgment --, and now you sat there attempting to follow the quiet, unhurried instructions of his voice.

"Good... You need to bring your full attention -- complete and absolute -- to the present moment. Let go of every chaotic thought, every attachment, every fear..."

Try as you might, you couldn't get your thoughts to leave. They refused to drift past like clouds the way he described; they just sat there, stubbornly lodged, giving you no peace whatsoever. Luke made it look so effortless that your failure to manage even a fraction of it was genuinely irritating.

"What is this even supposed to do for me?" you said. You didn't mean to sound dismissive, but stepping outside your comfort zone just wasn't always a pleasant experience.

He answered in the same unhurried tone. "For me, it's how I make decisions. It's the only time my mind truly rests, when I can think without anything getting in the way. And I know you're capable of it."

Part of you appreciated that, the other part felt oddly out of place at how composed he always sounded. You drew a slow breath and tried again, and, surprisingly, you managed to brush the edges of something close to what he'd described.

But the feeling dissolved almost immediately.

You gave up on trying and let yourself watch him instead, hoping he wouldn't notice how often you did this. Simply watching him. Though with Luke, you could never be entirely sure what he noticed.

"I know you're not trying."

You felt your face go warm and closed your eyes again.

---

In the afternoons, you went out into the surrounding land together. Ossus was a planet thick with ruins and vegetation, and you helped Luke gather herbs and wild fruit; some for cooking, some for medicinal use.

On these walks, he would tell you about the Jedi -- their origins, their legacy -- weaving it together with his own experiences. It was a subject that clearly lit something in him; whenever he spoke about his mission, there was a different quality to his eyes, something alive and certain that wasn't there in ordinary conversation.

You also noticed, in quieter moments, that he carried more weight on his shoulders than any one person ought to. There were things he kept to himself -- things he didn't tell you --, and you understood that completely, because you did exactly the same.

More than once, you caught his eyes resting on you, and when you looked back, he would simply offer a small smile or let his gaze drift away, but the tension was there, unmistakable, hanging in the air between you.

Some days, the conversation came easily, flowing from one thing to the next without effort. Other days, the silence thickened, and neither of you moved to break it. But slowly, steadily, something was building. You were no longer two strangers making the best of a situation. You were two people who, somehow, were beginning to understand each other.

---

Two months had passed since you'd arrived.

You woke when the sun came up; you'd finally managed to make a habit of it, not that you'd had much choice if you wanted to keep pace with Luke. You'd stayed up late the night before, turning things over in your mind that probably didn't deserve that much thought, but you had enough in you to face the day.

You washed your face, dressed in the black clothes you had somehow, slowly, begun to not mind, ate something light, and went to find him as you did every morning, feeling the early breeze move against your skin.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, without turning around. He hadn't needed to look to know you were there, and you'd genuinely tried to be quiet this time. It was one of those things about him that never stopped catching you off guard.

"What kind of question is that?" you said, raising an eyebrow. He smiled to himself.

Something else worth noting: Luke's methods worked, and they worked faster than you'd expected. He was wise and selfless in a way that felt entirely natural to him -- deeply faithful to his principles and his purpose --, and because of him, you had improved in ways you couldn't have predicted when you first arrived.

His teaching style was unlike anything you'd known. He rarely gave you clear instructions or told you exactly what to do. Instead, he'd offer short phrases -- sometimes cryptic ones -- and trust you to find the meaning yourself. He taught you to observe, to listen, and to feel what was around you.

None of it had changed who you were, though. That was never going to happen. For better or worse.

"Shall we test what we worked on yesterday?" you said, stepping back and putting some distance between you.

You were eager to push yourself, to find your limits and press past them. That was the only way to actually improve. And maybe, just maybe, you were also a little curious to see how far Luke was willing to go with you.

He nodded and bowed, the same quiet greeting you always exchanged before beginning.

"Whenever you're ready."

When you sparred, it was all technique. You had no desire to genuinely hurt him, and it was clear he felt exactly the same. Every move he made was measured and precise, demonstrating his skill without a trace of arrogance, which was more than you could say for most people you'd trained with.

Even so, holding your own beside him was no easy thing.

"Too slow," he said, sidestepping your strikes for what felt like the tenth time. You were starting to tire, your breathing ragged and heavy. You swung again, but he caught your arm, turned it with clean precision, and left you screwing your eyes shut against the sharp discomfort.

"I could dislocate your shoulder right now. You need to be more careful when you commit to a direct strike like that." He released you after a moment and reset his stance.

"Wait -- what's that?!" you said, eyes fixed on something behind him. Luke turned, genuinely puzzled, and the moment his guard dropped, you grabbed his arm and used your back to throw him to the ground. He trusted you completely, without a flicker of doubt. That was his undoing.

You hit the floor with him, but you were quick, and within seconds, you were on top, straddling his hips.

"You know what your problem is? You trust people too easily. The person closest to you can be the one who turns on you -- you should never let your guard down like that. Not for anyone."

Luke looked up at you from the ground, momentarily speechless, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement.

You grinned, riding the satisfaction of your small, underhanded victory. You were so absorbed in it that you didn't notice his hands lying uncertain at his sides, unsure where to go. You didn't notice how his breathing had shifted, or the faint flush that had crept into his cheeks. It was as if you could almost feel the beat of his heart beneath you.

You didn't understand why he looked so tense and flustered — until you glanced down, and then you did.

There was a noticeable bulge pressing lightly against you. After a beat, you composed yourself as best you could, cleared your throat, and got up.

Luke was mortified; you could see it plainly. As soon as he was able, he stood and attempted to handle the situation with as much dignity as he could manage.

"I apologise. That was completely inappropriate -- it wasn't intentional."

"Luke-"

"I need... I need a moment-" He didn't give you the chance to say anything. He apologised once more and left you standing there alone.

You knew it had been involuntary. And you couldn't help feeling guilty for having put him in that position -- it was the last thing you'd wanted. But you couldn't deny that it had made you feel something. Something you hadn't been able to shake, and honestly, it wasn't the first time.

You'd never felt this way about anyone before. You didn't quite know what to do with it, but you knew one thing: you didn't want to let something this real get ruined over a moment like this.

Luke was different from every other person who had ever shown interest in you. He wasn't after what all the others had wanted. He made you feel safe. He treated you like an ordinary person, not like the daughter of a wanted bounty hunter, not like a name that came with baggage.

And that meant something.

Maybe you hadn't known him that long. Maybe there was still so much about him you didn't know. But you weren't going to let that stop you from acting on what you felt.

If he didn't feel the same, you'd understand. You would.

You stood there for a few minutes before finally making up your mind to go find him.

You moved through the forest, which somehow seemed larger now than it ever had before, but you didn't stop. You headed toward the small valley where Luke meditated every morning, where you knew he went to think, or simply to be. He'd be there, Luke was easy to read, sometimes.

You stopped in front of him. He was sitting with his gaze fixed on the ground, but when he felt your presence, he raised his eyes -- those clear, quiet blue eyes -- and looked at you. This time, though, his expression held none of its usual calm or resolve.

You sat down beside him on the rock and let a few seconds pass before speaking. But, surprisingly, he was the one who broke the silence first.

"Please forgive me. I'm so embarrassed," he said, and his voice was genuine enough that it ached a little to see him this distressed.

"Don't say another word. It's not your fault -- and I don't mind. I don't mind at all." You placed your hand on his back, hoping it would reassure him.

No more words were needed for Luke to understand exactly what you meant. You watched his shoulders slowly relax. In some quiet way, this made sense of all the nights he'd spent thinking about you -- only you -- and all the ones where he'd felt unbearably guilty for it, for letting his thoughts drift toward someone who trusted him, someone he felt responsible for.

But now, at last, he could breathe.

You had no idea what was going through his mind, and now that you'd laid everything out, it didn't sound quite as smooth as it had in your head.

"Look... I'll just head back to my quarters and leave you alone." You moved to get up, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of someone you respected this much, but he answered quickly.

"Don't go."

You stopped, caught off guard, and sat back down. You held his gaze for a few good seconds-- then decided, once again, to follow your instincts.

Your hands settled gently on either side of his face, and you leaned in slowly, your lips grazing his cheek, the bridge of his nose, and finally his mouth, which was soft and unhesitating.

You let the contact stay light for a few seconds before you finally kissed him properly.

Your lips moved together, soft at first, then gradually deeper. Luke's hands found your waist and held firm, and you shifted to sit in his lap, feeling all of him against you.

You had kissed someone before. But it had never felt like this.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, and when you finally broke apart to breathe, your lips traced a trail of open kisses from his jaw down to his neck, drawing a quiet sigh from him.

Your hips began to move against him, slowly, and his breath caught. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on your waist.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

You pulled back from kissing him and started working at the top half of his robes -- which was no straightforward task --, but he caught your hand gently.

"Not here."

You looked at him with a smile, not entirely patient. "You're not some kind of celibate, are you?" Even in moments like this, you couldn't help yourself.

He shook his head firmly. It wasn't hard to see that the poor man was thoroughly worked up.

You climbed off his lap and he took your hand, guiding you back toward the dormitory block. You stopped outside his quarters -- a door you had never crossed before --, and without a word, you both slipped off your shoes before stepping inside.

Luke's room was exactly what you'd expected: identical to all the others, which only confirmed what you already knew about him -- he didn't think himself above anyone. The air carried a faint scent of spiced tea and cedarwood, and everything was immaculately arranged. You noticed a small collection of miniature ship models on a wooden shelf -- the kind that might have belonged to a boy who once dreamed of flying.

"Everything alright?" The question pulled you out of your own head. You'd been studying the room more than you'd been looking at him, and you felt warmth creep into your cheeks.

"Sorry," you said, "I've always wondered what your room would look like."

Luke smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with quiet attention. You stepped closer, let your fingers trace the folds of his robes, and raised an eyebrow.

"Now -- may I?" And when you saw him smile and shake his head in that helplessly fond way, you got to work.

The dark fabric fell away, and you let it. His chest was everything you'd imagined; strong, his arms toned but not overwhelming, exactly the way you liked.

Your eyes moved without meaning to across the scars, starting from the centre of his chest and spreading outward along his arms and across his back, as though lightning had struck him once and left its mark on him forever.

He noticed where your attention had gone, but you didn't want him to feel exposed, so you kissed him briefly, smiled, and gave him a gentle push back. He caught himself on his elbows, and you watched his chest rise and fall slowly.

"You're beautiful." You settled over him, your fingers and lips tracing the pale lines across his chest, quietly determined to make him feel it.

Your kisses travelled down to his lower abdomen, and there you looked up. He was watching you with an expression that was equal parts attention and pleasure -- and somehow that look made you feel more self-conscious than you expected.

You didn't want to rush it. So you moved back up his body and kissed his lips again. "When was your last time?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"It's been a while," he said, honestly. You smiled. You liked that. The thought that you got to be his first time in a long time felt like something worth having.

You undid his belt and slid his trousers off, leaving him in just his boxers. It felt unfair to be so much more dressed than he was, so you pulled your black shirt over your head and dropped it with the rest of his clothes, left in just your bra.

His eyes moved slowly -- along your collarbone, your chest, and then to the scar the blaster bolt had left on your shoulder, almost fully healed now.

Knowing how you had him, you slowly unclasped your bra and let it fall. His gaze settled on your chest, but he didn't want to stare, so he shifted positions, and you ended up beneath him.

The bed was single-sized, so you fit together snugly, just barely enough, but it sufficed.

His bare hand traced up your torso until it reached your chest, stirring feelings within you that you couldn't quite name.

You sighed at the sensation of his touch, caressing and squeezing gently. This man was going to drive you wild, and you hadn't even taken off your trousers yet.

He lowered his head and began to kiss your breasts tenderly-- his lips felt soft against your skin, making it prickle and your nipples harden. You let out a low moan and dropped your head onto the pillow, which, by the way, smelled like him.

The time and attention he devoted to the smallest details was admirable, and the slow drag of his thumb across your skin kept you sighing relentlessly.

When he finally pulled away, his hands went to undo your pants, and you lifted your hips to help him rid you of them, impatient.

Now you were truly even.

"Are you sure about this?" You appreciated his concern, but right now, all you wanted was to feel his touch, to feel every part of him.

"Please."

His hand slowly slipped beneath your underwear, and when you felt his fingers brush against your most intimate place, you swore you could see stars.

He began to explore you with steady, deliberate movements, his fingers gliding with ease and precision. All the while, he remained attuned to your expressions, making sure they reflected nothing but pleasure.

You were a wreck of sighs and moans, your legs trembling and threatening to close around his hand, your back arching involuntarily. Damn, he was good.

Not even two minutes had passed, and you could already feel that familiar pressure on your lower stomach. "Luke- fuck, I-"

"It's okay. Just let go."

You noticed his touch grow more insistent, the speed of his fingers increasing. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone before moving up to your neck.

He was careful, though, he always was.

Your hips began to move subtly, instinctively seeking more contact, and your hands came up to rest on his broad shoulders.

"That's it -- breathe." His voice sent waves of pleasure straight to your core, and with one final circle of his fingers, you reached the peak. You bit your lower lip hard and felt the waves of ecstasy wash over your body, felt yourself clenching around nothing.

Then you collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Luke withdrew his hand slowly and lay down beside you while you recovered.

"That was fucking incredible," you said, looking at him.

"I should hope so."

You laughed, breathless, and soon pulled him close again, tugging impatiently at his boxers. He nodded and sat up to get rid of them, just as you did with your underwear.

You couldn't help but admire him; he exceeded your expectations by far. He was beautiful. There was definitely not a single aspect of him you didn't like.

He positioned himself over you again, and you couldn't resist the urge to kiss him once more. You pulled him closer with your hands in his hair, and you made out for a long moment. You felt yourself recovering from your last orgasm, pleasure beginning to build once again.

The inevitable brush of his length against your body drew soft sighs of pleasure from his lips.

"You think you can handle it, Skywalker?" you said when you finally parted, teasing him.

"I think I can." A smirk tugged at his mouth. He brought his hand to your cheek, his thumb grazing over it one last time before he positioned himself at your entrance with care. He held still for a moment, looking into your eyes.

"We can go slow if you need-"

"I'm okay," you said quickly, and at your impatience, he slowly began to push forward.

You sighed heavily, feeling your inner walls flutter around him, adjusting to the new sensations. Then you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, your nails lightly digging into his skin as he filled you.

Luke groaned softly as he slowly pushed himself deeper inside you, and once he was settled, he took a moment to admire your beautiful face, drinking in every detail.

He ran a tender hand along your side, marveling at the curve of your hip and waist, and finally, he began to move, setting a steady rhythm. He kept his pace unhurried, determined to savor every second of your intimate connection.

Each thrust brought a breathy moan from both your lips and his. He peppered feather-light kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, occasionally nipping at your pulse point.

"You're doing so good," he praised as he saw your face clouded with pleasure. He kept the same rhythm for a few minutes, and soon you were arching your back and pressing yourself close to him, moaning without any trace of shame.

Attuned to every shift in your expression and the pleasure building within you, Luke redoubled his efforts and began to increase his pace, hitting all the right spots with every deep thrust. Soft grunts and moans escaped his lips as he lost himself in the sensations, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.

"I'm so close," escaped your lips, and it wasn't intentional, but you knew you'd leave marks on his back. Your hips were trying to meet his pace again, and you were clenching around him; the pressure making him moan quietly every time.

He could feel the coil of tension building low in his abdomen, too, and he wanted nothing more than to bring you to the same peak of pleasure.

"Come on, let go, it's okay," he managed out, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

And then...

"Oh, stars," you said when you felt that final thrust that sent you both over the edge. His name fell from your lips as waves of pleasure crashed through you, each one more intense than the last

Luke respectfully pulled out and emptied himself wherever he could. He exhaled slowly, shifting to lie beside you once more. You couldn't quite understand how he still looked so composed while you were lying there breathless and completely spent -- though at this point, you'd stopped being surprised. Some things about Jedi, you decided, were simply unfair.

You rested your head on his chest, and you stayed like that for a while, simply enjoying each other's presence. Your hand traced over his stomach and sides, smiling when his skin prickled from the ticklish sensation you caused.

"I like you, Luke," you said, sitting up to look at him properly. His arm had been resting across his eyes -- he moved it slowly to meet your gaze.

A small smile formed on his face, and his hand began to move gently through your hair. "I like you too."

"I think I've already figured that out," you said, teasing.

"I'm not that obvious," he protested mildly.

"If you say so..." You held his gaze with a smile before finally getting up.

You both showered, changed, and you helped Luke tidy his room back into order.

The rest of the day, you took it easy; there had already been more than enough exercise, you decided.

You spent it talking about nothing in particular, and inevitably, you couldn't resist asking whether he'd been thinking about you all this time you'd been living here together -- and in what way -- but Luke was reluctant to let you into his private thoughts, so you let him off the hook. For now.

You helped him with small, ordinary things -- trying to fix a broken construction droid, sorting materials and tools back into their proper places...

"These go in the green box -- they're for welding," Luke said, giving you instructions. You nodded, but your mind kept drifting back to what had happened that morning, and every so often you caught a stupid smile spreading across your face -- which you immediately tried to get rid of. You weren't the sentimental type.

All in all, it was a perfectly ordinary day until you heard a familiar sound you hadn't been expecting. Not today, of all days. Luck had never particularly been on your side, it seemed.

The sound of a ship grew steadily closer, and not just any ship, your father's N-1. The day had come, at exactly the moment you were feeling your best and wanted to leave the least.

Luke looked at you, and he already knew. You simply exhaled and dragged a hand across your face in disbelief. You wanted to see your father -- of course you did -- but you weren't ready to go. Not just yet.

The engine cut out. You knew you didn't have much time, so you made the most of it. You stepped toward Luke and pulled him into a firm hug -- something he hadn't expected --, but he held you back, tight, one hand resting on your head.

"I'll talk to him -- I just need to find the right moment," you said as you pulled away, cupping his face gently before pressing one last, lingering kiss to his lips.

He trusted you. In the time you'd spent here, you'd shown him exactly the kind of person you were -- capable, strong, and clear-headed.

"I'll be waiting for you."

You both stepped outside as though nothing had happened. Your father was waiting by the ship, leaning against it with easy confidence. A smile broke across your face the moment you saw him, and you couldn't stop yourself from running to him -- however much you always tried to seem indifferent, you couldn't pretend you hadn't missed him.

"I missed you, Dad," you said, pulling back and checking him over to make sure he was in one piece. With your father, you never quite knew.

"I know. I missed you too," he said, ruffling your hair -- which you complained about, mildly.

Luke greeted your father with a long, firm handshake.

"Thank you, Skywalker," Din said, and his voice was genuine. "I owe you one."

"It was nothing, Din. It was my pleasure."

You smiled inwardly at that.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Luke asked.

"We should get going -- but thank you,"

As a farewell, you gave Luke a single small nod, quiet and respectful. He returned it without hesitation.

You had nothing to collect. There was nothing here that was really yours -- not in the conventional sense -- so you climbed aboard the ship that felt so familiar, that you had missed in your own way.

Your father followed, and in the blink of an eye, you were airborne, lifting away, your life returning to what it had always been. You caught one last glimpse of the Jedi temple below -- growing smaller and smaller until it was swallowed entirely by kilometres and kilometres of green, nothing but nature in every direction.

---

The days passed, and you couldn't stop wondering whether Luke was thinking about you. Whether he genuinely hoped you'd come back to him -- to Ossus -- whether he wanted the chance to know you better and build something real with you.

You hoped so. Because that was all you could feel right now.

You'd spent hours trying to work out how to put it into words for your father -- what you wanted-- and you'd only grown more frustrated each time it refused to come together clearly in your head.

You hadn't been a child for a long time. You were capable of making your own choices. Up until now, you'd been content to stay close to your father -- the one person you truly loved and admired -- but it was time, somehow, to begin finding your own way.

You didn't know what the future had in store. You didn't know whether things with Luke would lead anywhere, or whether going back to him was really what you needed. But you held onto everything he had taught you, and above all, you carried with you the desire to start something new.

And all that stood between you and that -- was a few words.

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Hiii, if you have any constructive criticism that I could apply to improve my writing about Luke, or in general, I would appreciate it ♡ (This is the second time I write about ROTJ Luke and I do a SMUT of him in general 🫦)

Used this lovely redit picture to write about the Jedi Temple. 😭

Also, I know the jokes suck a lot, I got them straight out of 'The Last of Us' joke book.