𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝙳

was  it  me  ?   did  I  push  you  too  hard  ?   I’m  sorry.    grief  choked,  these  are  the  thoughts  that  cling  to  his  mind  like  vines,  unvoiced,  not  meant  to  be  heard. «  you’re  wasting  your  time.  I  am  not  leaving  you  behind.  »    no,  this  is  not  how  it  ends  here,  boy  :  Luke  is  relentless,  and  he  will  be  so  until  he  is  on  the  ground,  broken limbed,  blood  seeping  from  his  mouth.  it’s  foolish,  maybe,  to  still  face  danger  knowing  the  most  likely  outcome,  to  still  hold  the  lightsaber  a  little  reluctantly,  like  he  would  rather  let  it  slip  from  his  grasp  than  hurt  his  beloved  nephew,  but  this  is  who  he  is  and  will  always  be,  after  all.  a  protector,  not  a  warrior.

«  𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  ?  »    tone  shadowed,  a  little  harsher  than  he  intended.  guilt  is  already  rippling  under  the  surface,  pressing  against  his  eyelids,  because  Luke  doesn’t  want  to  inflict  pain  ——  even  less  when  it  comes  to  her,  to  the  other  half  of  his  soul,  the  anchor  that  always  holds  him  steady.  Leia  is  just  looking  out  for  him,  he  knows  that  much,  yet  he  can’t  help  but  feel  a  little  chocked  under  the  attention.  sometimes  it  feels  like  the  entire  galaxy  is  watching  him  (  them  ),  holding  its  breath,  curious,  expectant,  awestruck.  it  can  be  daunting,  really.  will  it  always  be  like  this  ?  will  he  always  be  expected  to  shine  as  bright  as  the  sun  ?  «  sorry.  »    apology  slips  out  fast,  almost  blurted  out  of  his  mouth.  Luke  presses  the  palm  of  his  hand  against  the  back  of  his  neck,  scrapes  at  the  skin  there.    «  I’m  just  afraid  people  will  stop  looking  at  me  like  I’m  ——  me,  you  know  what  I  mean  ?   I  know  you  won’t,  and  neither  will  mom  or  dad,  but...  I  don’t  know,  maybe  I’m  just  being  dramatic.  »    there,  again,  he  diminishes  his  own  worries,  almost  out  of  habit,  strives  to  make  them  sound  less  heavy  to  her  ears.  his  pain  is  ever  quiet,  hidden,  as  if  he  is  afraid  his  hurt  would  disturb  the  universe  with  its  ugly  shape  and  sound,  blood  red  and  piercing,  howl  like. «  let’s  eat  together  later,  okay  ?  »    they  haven’t  in  a  while  and  what  better  way  to  keep  him  whole  than  having  Leia  at  his  side  ? 

𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃  𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙲𝚃  𝙸𝚂  𝚃𝙾  𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃,  to dismiss her words entirely,  like a holo projection stuck on the same recording everytime,  broken.  no matter how many years pass,  or how much they go through,  she will always worry about him,  and he will always try to soothe her concern each time he can.  it’s not exactly anger,  what ripples out of her mouth,  it’s something that seems more like fear,  to him,  and Luke’s brows furrow,  lips pull in a tight line.  his face is an echo,  a mirror of her own expression,  because it is never wanted  :  bringing out this hurt,  this fear of losing each other to the world they live in,  to the fight they can never give up.  he can’t promise Leia her worry will always be unfounded,  they both know this very well  ——  nothing can stop his lips from slowly curving up,  however,  not right now,  when he is unharmed and safe,  the worst just a distant possibility,  something that can’t touch him. «  but I wasn’t  !   you can check if you want,  I’m alright.  »    he opens his arms wide,  grin now blossoming on his lips,  as if that should give her all the proof she needs.  well,  it is true this time around  !   Luke has managed to come back without a single bruise on him,  which is not too bad,  if he is being entirely honest.    «  didn’t even need a bacta patch.  proud of me  ?   »

𝙸𝚃  𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳𝙽'𝚃  𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙿𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙴  𝙷𝙸𝙼  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙸𝚂  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃  𝚃𝙾  𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴.  she has always been able to read him like an open book,  after all,  a gift she shares with their mother  ——  both of them keen on picking up even the most subtle shift in his mood.  Luke can’t hide,  it would be foolish to try,  his attempts at retreating to himself swiftly caught.  he was made to bask in other people’s warmth,  to shine as bright as the sun itself,  not for shadowy corners and loneliness,  but it gets hard sometimes  :  to be what everyone expects him to be,  a hero,  a Jedi,  to forget his own ache to heal others,  hand always outstretched as an offer for help.  I am here to save you.  he is everyone’s anchor,  but what about him  ? his shoulders are a little hunched,  and he makes a point of not looking up at Leia,  yet he doesn’t ignore her words or tell her to go away,  finds himself unable to do so,  even when he is feeling low.  the exhale he lets out rings heavily in the air,  otherwise filled with silence.  still,  he searches for the best way to put into words how he feels,  to explain the unsteadiness that’s trying to dig a hole into his chest,  while holding no doubt that she will understand him no matter what.  she is his tether,  a part of him as much as his arm or any other limb. «  I just don’t want to disappoint.  make people feel like maybe they were wrong to put that much faith in me.  there isn’t even a reason for it,  but my mind keeps getting there sometimes.  it’s just a lot,  I guess.  »

𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃  𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚂,  as if struck,  but his body doesn’t betray him.  a swipe of his hand takes most of the metal out of his way,  the rest he dogdes,  jumping forward.  the tone Ben used worries him more than his actions  ——  cold,  void of anything familiar.  Skywalker..  it feels like he is trying to dig a wound instead of calling him by his name.  the ache seeps through his ribs and settles there,  hurting,  making its way to his heart like fast acting poison. «  it’s not too late,  Ben.  »    Luke clings to his nephew’s name,  instead,  uses it like a lifeline,  never as a dagger to throw at him.  as a beacon to show Ben the way back from the dark slope he is running towards.  if he powers on his own lightsaber it is just for precaution,  reassuring green against the threat of darkness around them,  to defend himself against any blow his nephew might launch.  what he feels swirling within Ben is enough to make him shiver and grind his teeth,  yet the thought of attacking him doesn’t cross his mind.  he only wishes to protect him from it,  even if it might be too late for that. «  your mother  ——  she needs you more than ever.  »    this certainty comes right from the heart,  not the Force,  he uses it as a last chance,  last hope.  fire burning low,  embers dimly glowing.  still there,  despite everything.  still trying to warm those around him.  never caring to check if there is enough left for himself  ——  because the truth is he would rather freeze than give up this fight.