[Where her expression drops like a stone, so does his once her question hits his ears. No smile, no pretense - this isn't like Ben Kenobi telling him about something bigger, something greater out there all tied to his family. This is a stranger asking him to tell a story he barely knows, and no matter how nice she happens to be, that's a whole lot to take in.]
I don't see what that has to do with any of-- [Luke stops, something clicking so clearly in his mind that it's practically audible in the dead silence that follows. Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, she knew them. R2 never said anything about them, how could he? They've been talking all this time.]
Who are you, really? Why did you want me to come here?
[ both his questions have the same answer. padmé could almost laugh. she doesn't. she straightens, regarding him with the solemnity he deserves. inside, she cracks a little further along old fractures.
yet there's a part of her that is proud. he's piecing it together himself. in a different life, she would have fallen upon a heuristic answer as a means of engaging his thinking. but this is not a student or a colleague she means to guide to the correct decision. this is her son. he deserves honesty from the woman who helped shape the lie of his birth. ]
You were a baby when I first saw you, [ she starts quietly. ] I'd dreamt of a boy, and there you were. [ the corners of her mouth lift in a beautiful, heartbreaking smile. ] Exactly as I had dreamed.
[ it was anakin that had dreamt of leia, been so sure their child would be a fierce, headstrong girl. they had both been right. she looks down to hands and arms empty. her fingers lace together in an attempt to keep them steady. ]
But I couldn't keep you. Vader — [ her lips press into a thin, trembling line. padmé breathes in through her nose. ] He was scouring the galaxy for me. I asked Obi-Wan to take you to Tatooine. I knew you would be safe with your aunt and uncle. Safer than with me — [ her voice breaks. the tears she had managed to hold until then carve rivulets of salt down her cheeks — ] who had to run and hide. I knew you would be loved by them.
[ her vision swims and blurs, but her eyes remain on luke. something a lot like hope peeks through her staggering loss. she finishes with the answer she already gave, leaving it plain and unadorned before him. ]
[And just like that, without a single word or breath as he watches her from just a few steps away, Luke suddenly strides forward - catches her around her shoulders without thinking, pulling her tight against his own chest. He still smells like the engine of his x-wing, all the grease and grit of repairs clocked in before making the leap here, and she-- from where he has his chin pressed flush over her shoulder-- smells like something better. Distant and foreign and more wonderful than he could ever have imagined.
She could be lying. Logically he knows it, admitting the possibility to some sensible part of himself that sits coiled in the back of his skull, but...she isn't. Luke can't explain it, it's only there beyond a shadow of a doubt, brimming beneath his fingers the way he'd felt in the trenches, hearing the echo of Ben ringing out across the distance.
Across everything.]
I knew it.
[Believed it, more than anything else in the entire universe.] Somehow I always knew you were still alive.
[ with a quiet sob, padmé hides her face against his chest. her arms snake around his waist, and she holds on as fiercely as he is to her. the tightness that has lived between her ribs eases. she did not realize the weight of her guilt until it released its grip on her. for the first time in a long time, she can breathe.
her fingers curl into the material of his orange flight suit. she remains like that, indulging in the sense of steadiness embracing him provides. her grownup son. she pulls back, but not away. sight alone is not enough. her hands lift to his face. her thumb strokes a cheek; her fingers brush his hair away from his face. trying to commit him to memory as if this is only a dream soon to be stripped from her. ]
You look like your father, [ padmé observes with a touch of wonder. when one knows what to look for, the similarities are plain. the color of their eyes, the texture of their hair. the funny laugh. the smiles. ] You've grown so much.
[ wound tight around her obvious pride is the bittersweet knowledge that she missed it. all of it. thought it hurts, it fails to diminish her joy. does the opposite, in fact. her happiness is almost perfect. ]
[His expression levels out at that, even if he doesn't realize it. There's no brushing away her hand or turning his attention, but he's restless meeting the pain of her stare, knowing why she feels it after everything Ben had told him before--
Luke tightens his grip, steels his stare the way he figures he ought to.] I'm going to fix it.
Everything Vader ever did, I'm going to make it right. [It wasn't exactly a new conclusion to draw: he'd been certain for a while that he needed to finish what his father started-- that he was the only person that could-- and the more he helped out with the Rebellion the more sure he was that he needed to leave.
They needed more if they were going to win against the Empire; the odds just aren't evening out.] You won't have to hide anymore.
Darth Vader is not to be underestimated. [ her eyes widen in alarm. the similarities between father and son are rooted further than skin deep. a heavy stone drops into her belly. ] Only a Jedi Knight can hope to face him. Luke —
[ she shakes her head. it is twenty-three years ago, and she is asking another headstrong man not to think solely with a lightsaber. padmé's hand drops to his collar. she bunches it nervously in her fingers. ]
I beg you…don't be so quickly drawn to battle. Not before you're ready. And never for my sake.
no subject
I don't see what that has to do with any of-- [Luke stops, something clicking so clearly in his mind that it's practically audible in the dead silence that follows. Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, she knew them. R2 never said anything about them, how could he? They've been talking all this time.]
Who are you, really? Why did you want me to come here?
no subject
yet there's a part of her that is proud. he's piecing it together himself. in a different life, she would have fallen upon a heuristic answer as a means of engaging his thinking. but this is not a student or a colleague she means to guide to the correct decision. this is her son. he deserves honesty from the woman who helped shape the lie of his birth. ]
You were a baby when I first saw you, [ she starts quietly. ] I'd dreamt of a boy, and there you were. [ the corners of her mouth lift in a beautiful, heartbreaking smile. ] Exactly as I had dreamed.
[ it was anakin that had dreamt of leia, been so sure their child would be a fierce, headstrong girl. they had both been right. she looks down to hands and arms empty. her fingers lace together in an attempt to keep them steady. ]
But I couldn't keep you. Vader — [ her lips press into a thin, trembling line. padmé breathes in through her nose. ] He was scouring the galaxy for me. I asked Obi-Wan to take you to Tatooine. I knew you would be safe with your aunt and uncle. Safer than with me — [ her voice breaks. the tears she had managed to hold until then carve rivulets of salt down her cheeks — ] who had to run and hide. I knew you would be loved by them.
[ her vision swims and blurs, but her eyes remain on luke. something a lot like hope peeks through her staggering loss. she finishes with the answer she already gave, leaving it plain and unadorned before him. ]
I'm your mother.
no subject
She could be lying. Logically he knows it, admitting the possibility to some sensible part of himself that sits coiled in the back of his skull, but...she isn't. Luke can't explain it, it's only there beyond a shadow of a doubt, brimming beneath his fingers the way he'd felt in the trenches, hearing the echo of Ben ringing out across the distance.
Across everything.]
I knew it.
[Believed it, more than anything else in the entire universe.] Somehow I always knew you were still alive.
no subject
her fingers curl into the material of his orange flight suit. she remains like that, indulging in the sense of steadiness embracing him provides. her grownup son. she pulls back, but not away. sight alone is not enough. her hands lift to his face. her thumb strokes a cheek; her fingers brush his hair away from his face. trying to commit him to memory as if this is only a dream soon to be stripped from her. ]
You look like your father, [ padmé observes with a touch of wonder. when one knows what to look for, the similarities are plain. the color of their eyes, the texture of their hair. the funny laugh. the smiles. ] You've grown so much.
[ wound tight around her obvious pride is the bittersweet knowledge that she missed it. all of it. thought it hurts, it fails to diminish her joy. does the opposite, in fact. her happiness is almost perfect. ]
no subject
Luke tightens his grip, steels his stare the way he figures he ought to.] I'm going to fix it.
Everything Vader ever did, I'm going to make it right. [It wasn't exactly a new conclusion to draw: he'd been certain for a while that he needed to finish what his father started-- that he was the only person that could-- and the more he helped out with the Rebellion the more sure he was that he needed to leave.
They needed more if they were going to win against the Empire; the odds just aren't evening out.] You won't have to hide anymore.
no subject
[ she shakes her head. it is twenty-three years ago, and she is asking another headstrong man not to think solely with a lightsaber. padmé's hand drops to his collar. she bunches it nervously in her fingers. ]
I beg you…don't be so quickly drawn to battle. Not before you're ready. And never for my sake.