Work Text:
Luke had put it off for a while now. He told himself that he should keep his distance, to protect the girl. She needed to leave. Any sign of him giving in to the brightness, the hope that she’d brought to the island, the galaxy, to him, would be catastrophic.
He told himself he would stick to his plan.
...But Skywalkers have never been very good at following rules, even ones set by themselves.
And so, as he watched the girl training on the cliff, swinging his old lightsaber with an ease he hadn’t been able to accomplish at her age- another reminder of the life she’d endured- Luke turned, and headed down the Jedi steps to the Millennium Falcon.
Chewie was outside, making repairs and adjustments. A small smile crept onto Luke’s face as he watched the Wookie pry open a hatch, only to discover a small family of porgs nesting inside. Chewbacca growled angrily, but the porgs merely chirped, their large eyes staring blankly up at the Wookie. Chewie growled again, practically yelling, and began to shoo them out of the hatch. Luke used the momentary distraction to slip past him, not quite ready to face his old friend yet.
Still, he couldn’t help but reminisce. The years in between the Battle of Yavin and Cloud City had been some of the best of Luke’s life. It was almost ironic, in a way. Back then, he’d felt like a hero- brave and invincible, fighting to save the Galaxy and become a Jedi. For just a moment, Luke was back on Home-1. He could see that freezing base just as clearly as if he had been there yesterday.
Chewie angrily growled something at Han, who scoffed and crossed his arms.
“I told ya, Chewie, ya gotta treat her well and then she’ll be ah, receptive, to your upgrades.”
A snort from somewhere below had Luke smirking as well.
“I hope your advice for repairing ships is better than your advice for dealing with women.” Leia said, and Luke took a quick look over his shoulder to see her lounging on a stack of crates. She hadn’t even lifted her head from her datapad, but the crinkle in her eye told him she wasn’t really reading it. Luke glanced up to Han, who rolled his eyes and straightened his shoulders.
“Listen here, sweetheart, I’ll have you know that I can make any woman fall for me. In fact,” Han leaned an elbow on the Falcon, “I’m a wanted man on several systems, and not just for my smuggling talents, either.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Luke looked back to Leia, and saw her knuckles had turned as white as the snow outside, her fingers clenching around her datapad. She glared openly up at Han now, and when she shot Luke an angry glare as well, he quickly whipped around and buried himself in his own x-wing repairs. Artoo twittered a warning at him from the droid socket, and Luke wondered if it would be too obvious an escape if he suddenly powered up his x-wing for a “practice flight”. Thankfully, the crisis was averted as Threepio approached Leia with a request from Mon Mothma.
Breathing out, Luke was surprised he didn’t see his breath for a moment, before remembering where he was. This was Ahch-To, not Hoth. The memory of Han’s easy smirk almost chased him back to the cave he called home, but he forced himself forward. He owed it to Han, his brother in all but blood, to see at least this through.
It’s just a ship, Luke thought, finally entering into the main corridor. Nothing more than metal and wires.
And yet, with each step, Luke felt like he was walking into a living being. The Falcon was a creature that had been forged not just with mismatched parts, but with sweat and blood and care. He could feel the life flowing through each of her panels and compartments; the intricate inner-workings pulsing together. Han may not have been able to use the Force, but the energy the smuggler had put into his ship would live on long after him.
Luke had felt it, of course, the moment Han had been stabbed. The blinding agony of being run through not just with a lightsaber (the seam where metal met flesh and bone on Luke’s arm had throbbed in empathy), but also by a loved one, had brought him to his knees. And then, through whatever tenuous connection they still shared, Luke had felt Leia’s own heart shatter.
Luke didn’t leave his cave for days. He didn’t cry, just stared at the cave wall. He’d wanted to disappear into that darkness.
The familiarity of being back on the ship had Luke’s muscle memory kicking in. His felt himself being pulled right, but he made himself turn away from the cockpit, heading instead for the storage areas. Everything was just as he remembered, the paneling on the walls, the dim lighting, even the constant beeping from one computer or another. All were there to help Han and Chewie’s smuggling business, and then later, the Rebellion.
After Ben had…left, Luke had too. He knew that eventually, Han would follow his example, but at the time it had been too hard of a truth to face. General Solo’s old nature had resurfaced under pressure, and the need to return to something normal, something familiar, that he knew how to navigate, had been what drove him away from Leia, Luke supposed.
The guilt of his own failings was what chased Luke up to Ahch-To, a place that had taken him decades to track down and to which, he’d believed, he’d be left alone to fade away. He’d taken whatever records of any sort of Jedi teachings with him, never to plague the Galaxy again. Luke refused to pass on what he had learned, not if it meant more families being torn apart by whatever prophesies of chosen Jedi, or Sith conquests, reared their ugly heads.
It had been time for the Jedi to end.
And then, one day, from the solitude of his cave, he’d heard the familiar whir of engines. A bright light had broken through the darkness he’d draped around him like a cloak. It was clear and strong, with a purpose. Luke wanted to turn away from it, but the light called to him.
She’d called to him.
Luke hadn’t needed her to come with the Falcon, or Chewie, or Artoo. Hadn’t needed this girl, with hope in her eyes and the sense of finally finding something lost, to hand him his old lightsaber, his Father’s lightsaber, which had called to her, Rey, this girl who was his—
Luke stopped that thought, clamped down on it like a blast door closing. He would not allow himself the realization, kept it firmly placed behind walls that had been there for so long, they had become a part of his identity. She could not know the truth. While Obi-Wan and Yoda had feared such a revelation would send Luke down a dark path, Luke feared the opposite for the girl. It would send her straight into danger, more so than she was already in.
Wouldn’t it be better, a familiar voice said, if she found out from you than from someone else? Do not repeat the past, Luke.
Luke shut him out, too.
The corridor rounded out, lights flickering on as Luke entered the main hold. Closing his eyes, he tried to center himself, but instead, found himself drowning in the sounds of long-forgotten memories.
A Jedi uses the Force, feels it flowing through him.
There’s no such thing as luck.
Ben, why didn’t you tell me?
I shouldn’t have come.
It’s true, all of it.
Han must have known, or at the least, suspected, who she was. Leia, too, if she had been willing to let this girl complete the years-long search for her brother. Luke had felt the echo of his sister’s presence on the girl, could almost see her in purple robes, head held high, bidding the girl good luck as she headed off to find a man who did not want to be found. Did Leia know that about him? That he had come here purposefully? Maybe the map he had split, the pieces left with Artoo and Lor San Tekka, had rekindled hope that he hadn’t abandoned them.
That day he had arrived on Ahch-To had felt like a closing. An ending. The sun had been setting over the water, taking the light with it. Waves had crashed around the island, signaling a storm coming. Luke was sure that the ship he’d used to get there wouldn’t make a return trip. Though, he could repair it, could easily use its still functioning comms to call for help. Then he could undo what he had done, get off this rock and find—
No. He had to stay. It was better, easier this way. Luke had ensured he couldn’t use that ship again, hiding it deep where no one could find it. It would rust down there, and not even the Force could fix something like that. As he’d stood there on the cliffs, watching the sinking shadow of his ship, he swore he could hear someone calling for him to come back…
Taking a deep breath, Luke shook off the lingering echoes of adventures long past. The memories kept alive by this ship were everywhere. If he turned back the way he’d come, he would encounter the ghost of his old self, whooping and shouting as he shot down TIE fighters. To the left, in the cargo hold, was where Han and Leia had shared their first kiss, before being interrupted by Threepio. Should he circle the corridor once more, he would hear the whispers of the girl and her friend, frantically trying to hide. With nowhere left to visit, Luke finally turned to walk forward.
It was, undoubtedly, the longest walk he’d ever taken.
Entering into the cockpit was like…coming home. With a slight wave of his hand, the Falcon powered up, her sensors and datascreens beeping to life. Luke turned in a slight circle, trying to take it all in.
“I didn’t know there was this much green in the whole Galaxy.”
Luke whirled, thinking the girl had somehow found her way on to the Falcon while he wasn’t paying attention. But there was no one there. Just empty seats.
“That’s no moon.”
He turned again, and again was met with empty air. Luke felt himself grow frustrated. Why had he come here? What was the point in torturing himself like this? He couldn’t change the past, couldn’t rewrite what had already been written in stone. The Falcon had once been his home, yes, but now it was just a ship. A hollow reminder of what once was, and what could now never be. Maybe this was his punishment, for his failure as a Jedi, a brother, a son, a friend, an uncle, a mentor and…and a Father.
Those shields he’d so carefully placed around him broke, just slightly. Luke sucked in a breath, trying to reform them, but it was too late. He slumped down into the co-pilot’s seat and, for the first time since the Jedi Temple had burned in front of him, Luke Skywalker cried.
“Hey, hey, kid, why the long face?”
Luke didn’t bother looking up.
“Luke, I’m talkin’ to ya, the least you can do is look at me.”
Shocked, Luke did glance up, and found Han Solo, as young as the day he had first met him, staring down at him. Luke didn’t know what to say, but the words seem to come anyway.
“I’m…torn, Han. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Luke sucked in a shuddering breath, clenching his hands on his thighs, “I was supposed to be all these things, and now I’m none of them. I’ve let down everyone.” With a glance to his left, Han sat down in the pilot seat, beginning to fiddle with the controls.
“Well, I don’t know a whole lot about that Jedi stuff, but what I do know is something about ships.” Wiping at his face, Luke frowned a bit.
“Please, don’t let this be another metaphor for women. If Leia hears—“
“She’ll what?” Han laughed, sitting back in his seat, “Fire me? Kinda hard to do that when I’m her only option for transport. Listen, kid,” Han turned towards Luke, leaning forward as if sharing a secret. Luke leaned in as well, “when you’ve got a ship that’s hard to fly, the best thing to do is to let it fly itself. Don’t try to shape its patterns or make decisions, ‘cause it’s just gonna fight ya the whole way. The only thing you can do is just be along for the ride.” He scratched the back of his neck, leaning back a bit. “I don’t know if that makes any sense, but it’s kinda like…like the force, I guess, right? How you have to let it…oh what did that crazy old man say…” Luke felt a smile tug on his lips.
“Flow through you?” Han snapped his fingers.
“That’s the one. Yeah, you just gotta go with the flow. Don’t try to make the ship what you want it to be, it’ll tell ya.” Han patted the console fondly. “We can’t control the hand we’re dealt, but we can control how we live with it. You just gotta keep moving forward, and don’t look back.”
The two sat in silence for a moment, a rare bit of peace and understanding between them. Then it was shattered, as Chewie’s echoing roar came from somewhere in the ship. Han swore.
“Looks like Chewie needs my help, and if we wanna keep her Worship happy, I’d better see to it. You’ve got the controls, kid.” Han stood, ruffling Luke’s hair as he edged past the seats. He paused at the doorway, though, and turned to look back at him.
“Take good care of her for me.”
And then he was gone.
Luke sat there for a moment or two more, staring after him. Han wasn’t a Jedi, wasn’t even force-sensitive, and so he couldn’t come back like Yoda, or Obi-Wan, or even his Father had. It wasn’t possible.
And yet…
Something thrummed in the distance. Luke turned to stare out the cockpit window, up to the cliff where she was training. He could feel her light, but it was sharpened by grief and confusion. Without even knowing he was doing it, Luke reached out, parting the shields like pushing aside a curtain. Instantly, she settled, finding some clarity to calm herself. Then a different sort of confusion blossomed around her.
--is that him why is he helping me now he didn’t want to before I don’t understand but—
Luke got to his feet, turning to leave the cockpit. He waved his hand, the lights powering down. As he walked through the ship, the echoes of the past were still around him, but he paid them no mind. He could not go back to them, but there was someone he could go back to.
Rey.
Walking off the boarding ramp, he heard Chewie’s surprised growl behind him. Luke turned, and raised a hand in greeting.
…Yes?
It was faint, like a child asking for permission to enter a room. She was young and untrained, and needed guidance. Luke turned to trudge up the Jedi steps.
Stay where you are. I’m coming back.