Saga - Legends Tale As Old As Time (L/M, AU) Update 5/10/16

wheee!Food fight!

 

wheee!Food fight!

 

See, I adore this fic!! I love that ending line. PERFECT. And I love how Mara is having fun. I bet that's such a foreign concept for her. I love how she was free to laugh. And Luke's observations and blushes are excellent. I just love, love, love this and thank you for tagging me!!!

 

Luke has a heartbreaking honesty. And sweetness around him. Mara has cracks already!

 

Need an update! Giving a bump.

 

*tap tap* Um, hi. Yes, it's been a while. I'm so sorry. *hangs head* But this fic isn't abandoned! I WILL finish it! And I promise the next update won't take as long.

Thanks, Nyota's Heart, for the bump, and thanks to everyone who left kind words!



Chapter Eight

The Beast paced in her small tower room. She still wore her spattered tunic and the sour smell of ootoowerg clung to the air. At any other time she would have demanded a hot bath and immediate decontamination of her clothes, but she was oddly loath to scrub away the reminders of her strange dinner. Her wonderful, strange dinner.

She couldn’t remember the last time she laughed. In fact, she was surprised she even knew how.

Bah! This was his fault. That…farmer. The killer of the Peace. Her prisoner. Her Master’s prize quarry.

The man who saved her, when he could have freed himself by letting her die.

And earlier tonight…

The look on his face when the blubberbird egg salad hit him square on his jaw flashed across her memory. She snickered, and then clasped her hands over her mouth. There was no one to hear her, of course – she flashed a glance at her comm display, reassuring herself the glassy reflective surface remained blank – but still. She didn’t smile. She didn’t chuckle. She certainly didn’t—

A gale of bubbly laughs burst free. The White Workers covered in green fire sauce! The butter dripping from K’gworth’s moustache! Potts, trying so desperately not to react! The farmer, with that inviting smirk on his lips, threatening her with mutual food fight destruction!

Dinner had been…the only word that came to mind was “fun.” A foreign concept, to be sure. But one she wouldn’t mind repeating. Just to see if the feeling could be replicated. She had her doubts.

The Beast yawned. It was late. She should get some rest. She had no idea when her Master would contact her, but it would behoove her to be as alert as possible when he did. She raised her arms to remove her tunic, and caught a fresh whiff of stale ootoowerg. Perhaps next time they could forego the throwing of the dishes part. She yawned again and fell across her pallet, a smile edging its way across her face.

She jolted awake a second later. Next time? What was she doing, thinking in terms of “next times?” She commanded the farmer’s presence at dinner only to ensure he would not be malnourished when presented to her Master. The boy was nothing more than troublesome prey, to be disposed of as soon as commanded…

…wasn’t he?

Sleep eluded her for the rest of the night.

***​

The bright sunlight assaulting his eyelids awoke Luke. He stretched and looked around for the breakfast tray, usually placed at his bedside by now. The space was empty. A grumble from his stomach reminded him it was empty, too. He’d definitely spilled more food than he had eaten the night before.

“Looma?” he called. No answer. That was fine with him. A nephew of Owen and Beru Lars could never be comfortable lying around while others waited on him hand and foot.

In his exploration of the castle, Luke had yet to find the kitchens. No time like the present, he thought, and hurriedly dressed in the fresh tunic and form-fitting trousers he found hanging in the wardrobe. His clothes from last night had disappeared, much to his relief. He didn’t envy whoever had been given the food-stained and smelly clothing to wash.

Before he exited, he snatched up the loose bedpost. The bedroom was spacious enough as bedrooms went but the furnishings weren’t conducive to lightsaber practice, even when the “lightsaber” was a long, thin cylinder of wood. He hoped no one would notice the curtains covering the far left window were now lopsided. Perhaps after breakfast he might find a gallery or a ballroom or someplace a bit harder to damage.

Hoping to add to his mental map of the castle, he set out in the opposite direction from his previous tours of the castle. He passed room after room, each one more colorful yet absent any sign of recent occupation than the one before.

A faint hum drew his attention. Was that a lightsaber? Or did he just have lightsabers on his mind? He followed the noise through narrow corridors and expansive hallways until he stood before two imposing wooden doors. He’d never seen this part of the castle before. It appeared older than the part that held his bedroom, as if built at the same time as the dungeons far below. The walls and floor were irregularly cut blocks of stone, rough and grey. The coved ceiling soared above him, supported by buttresses. Metal brackets placed every so often must have once held fire torches for light.

But for all that it reminded Luke of the dank cell where he found Han, Leia and Chewie, he didn’t feel the oppressive presence of the dark side. Well, except for the presence of the Beast on the other side of the door. He felt her in the Force, loud and clear.

And heard her. Yes, that was definitely the sound of a lightsaber. He pushed against the wood and the door swung silently open. The sight in front of him caused him to stop short.

The room was vast and empty except for the Beast, alone in its center. Her red-violet blade was a dizzying blur of arcs, feints and parries. But Luke's attention was held by the woman wielding the weapon. She wore a simple, close-fitting dark tunic over black leggings, her bare feet flexing and pointing as she spun, crouched and raised high on her toes. Her red-gold mane was tamed in a braid that swung with her movement, escaped tendrils clinging to her forehead and flushed cheeks. Eyes closed, she appeared almost to be dancing, to music only she heard.

Luke knew with a certainty he had never seen anything – anyone – so graceful in his life. He breathed as shallowly as he could, not wanting to disturb her and cause the picture in front of him to disappear.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Looma, half hidden in the shadows of a far corner. The Gaulian tossed a globe-shaped training remote into the air, lasers firing from all ports. Luke dragged his gaze away from the Beast long enough to note the scattered remnants of previous remotes, cut into metallic shards. He held his breath as the remote dove toward the beast, bright arcs of green light aimed at her chest. She easily deflected them, her blade dancing through the air.

It was not a fair contest. A few swift strokes of her lightsaber and the remote lay in two pieces at her feet. With her back to Luke, she shut down her weapon and wiped her forehead with her tunic sleeve.

“’allo!” Looma turned and waved at Luke.

Luke waved his arms crisscross in front of him, in what he hoped was the universal sign for “Shh! I’m not here!” but apparently Looma never learned how to interpret it. The Gailian smiled even broader. “Bonjour, monsieur!” he called.

The Beast’s head came sharply up. “Who are you…?” She whirled to face Luke. “You.” Her yellow gaze glowed in the sunlight streaming through the tall, narrow windows, pinning him in place. “How long have you been there?”

“Me,” he said with a nod. “I, um, sorry to interrupt,” he said, putting down the broken bedpost as the heat rose in his cheeks. The polite thing would have been to announce his presence right away. If Aunt Beru were still live, she’d be very disappointed in him. But this castle and its inhabitants were so far out his realm of his experience, and the chance to observe the Beast in her natural setting, as it was…he forgot his manners. “I was looking for breakfast.”

“Zut alors!” Looma exclaimed. “The food tray, I ‘ave completely forgot!” He clasped his hands together. “I will bring it to you, tout de suite.”

The Beast raised her eyebrows at Looma. “Forgetfulness is unlike you.”

He gave her a wide, innocent smile. “My Mistress commanded me to ‘elp ‘er with ‘er exercises, I cannot disobey.”

She regarded him, her gaze narrowing to mere slits. “Fine. You may go.”

Looma extended his right foot and bowed deep with a flourish of his arms, a cheeky gesture that caused the corners of the Beast’s mouth to upturn. When she turned back to Luke, all traces of amusement were gone. “You cost me my sparring partner.”

He indicated the broken remotes. “It seems you did all the damage on your own.”

She strode toward him, stopping just before she reached his position. Dust motes pirouetted in the sunlit air between them. “That was the warm up before our practice matches. Looma’s moves are patterned on one of the greatest Jedi known to the Old Republic. But I take him down, ninety nine times out of a hundred.”

If he wanted to, Luke could reach out a finger and trace the path her freckles took across the bridge of her nose. “And the one hundredth time?” he asked.

She smiled. There was no mirth in it. But nor, to his pleased surprise, did he detect any malice. “Care to see how well you fare against me, farmer?” She reached inside her tunic and drew out his lightsaber, tossed it to him.

He caught the weapon easily. It felt so good to have its familiar weight in his grasp once more, especially since there were no angry canines present hoping to have Skywalker steak for dinner. He looked up. “Aren’t you afraid I will best you and escape the castle?”

“Aren’t you more afraid you won’t?” She caught his gaze with hers, the challenge clearly visible in the golden depths.

He gave her a thin-lipped smile of his own. His blue blade ignited and he held it vertical in a salute. “After you.”

They took their positions in the center of the empty room, circling warily. The Beat attacked first, a lightning strike of elegant menace. Luke parried, turned. His countering riposte caused her blade to block, dart, thrust. He struck the stronger blows, but she had the edge in agility.

The Force swirled around them, its energy cool and hot, light and dark. She drew her energy from deep reservoirs of rage and hate, her anger scalding. He could almost taste it, a deep, noxious taint he sensed once before, on Dagobah. It had permeated the gnarled tree Yoda bade him enter, where he had a vision of himself as a Beast. The Lord of the Beasts.

The memory made him fight harder, his blue blade hacking.She matched him and more, her red-violet blade forcing him to back up, retreat.The Force simmered around them, oppressive and heavy. The voices he had heard in the castle dungeon started up again: Give in to anger give in to hate strike her down it’s what she deserves take her power for yourself --

He leapt into the air, the Force powering his legs, and landed softly behind the Beast. He reached deep down for his own reservoirs, for peace and calm. Images of Leia and Han, of Chewie and even Threepio, swam before his eyes. If he fell to the dark side, they would be next on the Emperor’s agenda.

The Beast pivoted sharply, her blade poised for the killing blow. Luke brought his weapon up just in time. The blades met, plasma crackling. The stench of ozone caused his eyes to water. He pressed his blade against hers, pushed hard.

The strain showed on her face. But she wouldn’t yield. The tiny portion of his mind not concentrating on the duel marveled at her tenacity.

“’Allo!” Looma’s voice boomed from behind them. “The food, it is getting cold!”

The unexpected disruption gave Luke the opportunity he needed. With a twist of his blade, he managed to disarm her. Her lightsaber arced through the air, falling with a clatter several meters away. She grunted in surprise, rubbing her wrist.

He saluted her once more, and shut down his lightsaber. “That makes one for me, and—“ Something hit the back of his knees, hard. His hands and knees crashed into the polished stone floor with a bone rattling impact. A bare foot landed on his back, forcing his air out. “Oof!”

“Never think a fight is over until you are sure it is over, farmer.” The Beast’s low voice teased his ear. “And never leave yourself exposed to an enemy.” She straightened up, still keeping her foot on his lower back. “I believe the score is one for me, and—“

With a sudden movement, Luke rolled out under her foot. One gentle Force push and she was on her back. He scrambled to pin her down, his knees bracketing her thighs, his hands keeping hers immobile.

“You mean, never leave yourself exposed to an opponent who has the Force,” he said. “And grew up in a farming community where fistfights after the chores were done doubled as entertainment.”

She glared up at him. But the fire in her gaze did not burn. In fact, he could swear the depths glowed cooly green instead of burning yellow. She relaxed in his grip. “Well played,” she said. “I thank you for the lesson.” And she smiled. A real smile. “This was…fun.”

This close, with sunlight highlighting the gold sparks in her hair and a flush tinting her pale skin, she wasn’t beastly at all. Quite the opposite. He loosened his hold on her hands. “Thanks for being an great sparring partner. It’s the best ‘saber practice I’ve had in a long time. Not since Master Yo—“ He swallowed the rest of his words.

What was he thinking? She wasn’t his friend. She was his captor. His enemy.

Wasn’t she?

Her smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. With a flick of her wrist, she called her lightsaber hilt to her and held it with the business end pointed at him. “Are you going to get off me, or...?” Her thumb hovered over the ignition stud.

“Oh. Sorry. Of course.” Heat suffused his cheeks for the second time that morning. He struggled to his feet, and reached out a hand to help her up.

She ignored it, rising from the floor in what seemed like one graceful movement. “Your weapon,” she began.

“Right,” he said, and reached to unclip it. He'd hung it on his belt out of habit.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head, keeping her face turned away. “Keep it.”

“What?” Shock rooted his feet in place. He didn’t think he could move if he wanted to. “You're not worried I’ll use it to escape?”

She scoffed. “The walls contain cortosis ore, impervious to lightsabers. Even if you managed to get free of the castle, we’re surrounded by the forest. The ysalamiri that dwell in the trees keep the Force at bay—“

Those must be the source of those strange Force "bubbles,' Luke thought.

“—And the vornskrs in the forest would take care of you." She turned and gave him a long, considering look. "You wouldn’t hurt Looma or K’gworth or Pottz," she said decisively. "And I,” she paused and tapped her lightsaber hilt again, “can more than take care of myself."

Luke nodded, a wry twist to his mouth.

She folded her arms, lifting her chin. "Besides, you gave your word to stay. You seem to be the type who thinks that means something."

She was right. He might as well keep his weapon.“Thank you,” he said. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he still hadn’t eaten.“Looma said the food was getting cold. I should go.”

The Beast raised her hand. “There is one condition.”

“Isn’t there always?” he said dryly.

She flicked her braid over her shoulder and caught her lower lip in her teeth, just for a second. “I command you to practice with me every morning at this time.”

Luke allowed his grin to fill his whole face. “My pleasure.”

***​

Looma turned to K’gworth and Pottz, crowded behind him in the doorway to the Ivory Ballroom. “I told you so!”

“Why, bless my soul,” Pottz exclaimed.

“Who’d have thought?” K’gworth muttered. “I still say we need to wait and see.”

“They're coming together. And on their own!” Looma rubbed his hands together. “Our time might at last be at hand!”

 

Woohoo! Love the Beast's musings over fun and next time. SQUEE over the match and Luke noticing how unbeastly she looks. And the start of the best L/M line ever, Are you just getting comfortable...?

Looking forward to more spars etc. And Looma and the other masterly conspirators have reason to be glad! They are coming together on their own!

 

Congrats on your nomination for the best AU award! I finally caught up with your story and, even though ANH is the story of a princess held prisoner in an inaccessible castle , this must be the first time I see the fairy tale component of Star Wars taken literally. And it's fantastic! You integrate your narrative in the Beauty and the Beast template so seamlessly that I might consider telling this to my nephews as a bedtime story. The way you develop the relationship between Luke and Mara is masterful storytelling, and that food fight... Enough said!

 

Thank you so much, Nyota's Heart and Chyntuck! I really appreciate the comments, so much words can't express!

And thank you to whoever nominated the story for the Fanfic Award for Saga Best AU. Truly unexpected, and it was an honor to be in that company.

I'm not tagging as it's been so long between updates, but if anyone want to be put back on the list, I'm happy to do so. We're heading into the home stretch!


Chapter Nine

Before Luke knew it, the hours turned into days, the days into weeks. Life in the castle settled into a routine, if a rather odd and peculiar one. He never did find the kitchens, but a breakfast, piping hot, was by his bedside no matter when he awoke. In the evenings, he joined the Beast in the Lavender Salon, a far more intimate spot for eating than the Crimson Dining Room, where they sat across a simple table meant to hold no more than four people.

At first their conversations were stilted, limited mostly to the weather (it was always sunny and warm on Diswalt, he soon learned). But as time passed, their discussions turned to deeper, more personal matters. He told her the more comical stories about growing up on Tatooine, causing the Beast to snort blue milk through her nose at his description of his uncle’s face when Lars found the krayt dragon’s egg Luke had hidden under his bed.

She, in turn, shared with him her favorite works of Alemanian literature and her love of Weinna classical music. It turned out the White Workers were rather skilled musicians after all. But the best thing about the impromptu concerts was they allowed him to sit back and watch the Beast as she listened. With her yellow eyes closed so she could concentrate on the music, he could almost pretend they just another young couple, spending their evenings getting to know one another.

Of current events in the galaxy, they both remained mum. The words Rebellion and Emperor never once crossed their lips. But thoughts of Leia and Han, of Threepio and Chewie, were always present in Luke’s mind. And at times, he would glance up suddenly and catch the Beast looking at him with pity – or was it sadness? – in her gaze. Although she’d stopped calling him a prisoner and life in the castle was luxurious beyond his wildest imagination, he couldn’t forget what he was – or who she was.

Except, perhaps, during his favorite time of day. Every morning, he would join the Beast in what he learned was called the Ivory Ballroom, where a very different dance than the one for which the room was intended took place.

The Beast knew how to wield a lightsaber, but she had a tendency to rely on brute strength and blunt use of the Force instead of technique and finesse. She confessed her past opponents – she’d stumbled over that word and he looked away – did not have the Force and so she was not accustomed to facing someone with Luke’s abilities.

She was a very quick learner, however.

The red-violet blade came from out of nowhere. It clashed against Luke’s blade, the harsh sound ringing in his ears, and twisted. Hard. His lightsaber flew out of his surprised grip, toward the far left corner. “Touché!” exclaimed Looma from his usual position in the door. “One point for the Mistress. Now you are tied, n’est pas?

Luke rubbed his wrist. “That was new,” he said to the Beast. “I was expecting you to attack from the right. I left myself wide open.”

She shut down her weapon and tossed her braid over one shoulder. “I kept my presence shielded. As you did in the last match.”

“You also bided your time, waited for your moment,” he pointed out. “You weren’t as impatient as you usually are.”

She smiled. She did that more often, he’d noted. It brought color to her pale cheeks, banked the strange yellow fire in her gaze. It also caused his stomach to do the most disconcerting backflip. “It’s…strange,” she said, appearing to pick her words carefully. “I’ve always known it best to strike fast at my enemies to cause fear. I let anger guide my arm. But lately...” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “Well. Perhaps there might be other ways to use the Force.”

He knew it was ridiculous, but pride in his ability to teach, as he has been taught, swelled his chest. Even though she was a Beast, and he was no doubt only helping her gain more power to vanquish her enemies. Her enemies, who were his friends. But perhaps even a Beast could change its hide? To hide his confused thoughts, he walked to the corner and picked up his lightsaber. “Time for the deciding match?”

“Do you really have to ask—“ She swallowed her last word as K’gworth pushed his way past Looma and into the room. He made a straight line toward the Beast, never once glancing in Luke’s direction.

“Mistress, I am sorry to interrupt…“ K’gworth whispered the rest into her ear. The pink glow left her face, her smile gone as though wiped off a transparisteel viewport with a cloth. When he finished speaking and stepped back, she ran toward the door on uneven legs, her usual grace missing.

“Beast?” Luke called after her. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, and soon disappeared from his sight. K’gworth stared after her, his shoulders slumped

“K’gworth?” Luke asked. “What did you say to her?”

K’gworth straightened his back and turned to face Luke. His moustache bristled, bouncing between his lips and nose. “This…this,” he sputtered, “this is all your fault, boy!” He stomped after the Beast, his boots ringing on the polished stone floor.

“Looma?” Luke turned to the Gaulian, huddled against the doorway. “Do you know what is going on?”

“Non,” Looma answered. He appeared to have folded over, like a wax candle left aflame too long. “But I must leave. You will excuse me?”

“Of course,” Luke answered. But Looma had already exited, his shoulders slumped and drooping.

Luke waited for the Beast in the Lavender Salon that night like always, but she didn’t appear. He went to bed without a glimpse of her. The same happened the next night. And the next.


***
On the fourth morning, Luke made his way to the Ivory Ballroom at usual time. She didn’t show. Although by now he didn't expect to see her, the disappointment hit like a hard fist to his solar plexus. He shrugged it off and started to practice his katas alone, but his heart wasn't in it. Something was off. His breath hitched when he realized the thing he was missing was…her.

He missed the bright flash of her Force signature as she leapt to greet his saber with hers. Missed the way she bit her right side of her bottom lip as she puzzled out her moves. Even missed the sharp-edged taunts she’d throw at him in a fruitless effort to break his concentration.

Sunlight streamed through the ballroom’s floor to ceiling windows, but the day was gloomy, bereft. The golden glow lighting the room only reminded him of her unusual yellow eyes, glowing with triumph whenever she managed to get a hit in, softening with appreciation whenever he showed her a new strategy.

He didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Looma, Pottz and K’gworth had said barely three words to him since the Beast disappeared, claiming they had pressing work in other wings of the castle. It was too soon for the evening meal, and staring at the four walls of his bedroom had zero appeal.

Perhaps he could find the literary work she mentioned at their last dinner and read it in anticipation of their next meeting (there would be a next meeting, wouldn’t there? There had to be). He was sure K’gworth mentioned the castle contained a library. Perhaps it held the volume he sought. He set off to find it, deciding to start with the unexplored chambers in the Northwest Wing.

The sun had long left the sky by the time he finally pushed open a heavy wood door to reveal a room lined from polished stone floor to high, arching ceiling with shelves. So many shelves, it would probably take a day and then some to count them all. And on those shelves were…what were those? Books? He’d heard of them, but books had been phased out of use long before he was born. Tatooine was not kind to fragile items prone to sun damage and decay.

He picked up the nearest one. It was made of sheets of something like flimsiplast, all stitched together and held between two heavier, more durable sheets.He rifled through it.Text and pictures rushed by.He didn’t recognize the language, but the illustrations reminded him of the tapestry in his bedroom.

He ventured further into the library, noting a large cavernous space meant to hold a fire and two overstuffed, high backed chairs placed before it. The chairs were worn, the cushions dented as if by decades of use. A thick layer of dust covered one, but the other chair appeared to have been occupied recently. He sneezed, his nose tickled by the room’s dry yet somewhat musty smell.

A section of one wall was dedicated to datapads. Finally, something he knew. He hurried over, and began searching for something he could read. But he couldn’t find anything in Basic. Frustrated, he sat down on the cold stone to look at the bottom shelf.

But the shelf did not contain datapads, or books. Instead, it held..cubes. And a few other other polyhedral shapes. Made of shimmering crystals and shining metals, they were all sized to fit comfortably in a hand.

One cube, less shiny and noticeable than its neighbors, tugged at Luke’s Force sense. He reached toward the back of the shelf, plucked it from its obscure corner. It began to glow, as if responding to his interest. “What are you?” he asked. “It’s as if you’re trying to tell me something.” He turned the cube over and over--

“What are you doing?” said a low, husky voice from across the room.

Luke almost dropped the cube. He hurriedly thrust it into his tunic. “Beast!” he exclaimed, turning to face her. “You’re back!” His arms outstretched in greeting, he walked toward the black cloaked figure.

His smile faded as he grew closer. Her normally pale skin was ashen gray, the freckles standing out as dark smudges. Purple shadows, the shade of a day-old bruise, underlined her eyes. “Beast?” he said. “You look like you haven’t slept since I last saw you.” Concern made his words rough.

She gave a short laugh and stalked toward one of the chairs before the fireplace. Her usual catlike grace was gone, replaced by a stiff-legged march. White lines of pain furrowed her brow, despite her obvious effort to smooth and hide them. “I can sleep when I’m no longer walking among the galaxy’s stars,” she said, gingerly settling onto the cushions.

“You’re injured.” Luke sat down on the chair next to her, heedless of the dust that billowed around him.

She started to shrug, but it turned into a flinch. “Nothing time, bacta and a healing trance won’t take care of. But,” she said and then hesitated, looking down at her hands. They were red and raw, Luke noticed. “I needed to speak with you.”

"But what happened to you? Let me call Pottz. You need rest."

"Not right now." She waved off his concern, and then caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Are you happy here?" she said in a rush. "With me, I mean?”

“What?” Luke felt like a womp rat caught in the crosshairs. “I…,” his voice trailed off as he turned the questions over in his mind. “I am happy,” he said finally. “When I’m with you. But…"

"You're needed elsewhere."

He nodded. "My friends. I'm worried about them.”

“Of course.” She stared into the empty fireplace, her shoulders slumping. Then she sighed before turning back to him. “Right. We don’t have much time.”

“What’s going on?” But even as the words left his mouth, Luke understood. “It’s the Emperor,” he said, his voice flat. “He’s finally coming for me.”

The Beast pulled the hood off her head, her red-gold curls falling free. “Yes,” she said. “But not just for you.” She pulled a small device out from under her cloak. The surface was flat and glassy, like a mirror. She pushed a button and a holographic star chart of the galaxy sprung to life around them. “This,” she said, using her hands to spin the chart and zoom in on a particular coordinate, “is the Stellar Peace II.” A familiar moon-shaped object appeared before Luke.

“That’s the Death Star,” he said, a hollow pit in his stomach. "I destroyed it." The voices started up again: you killed them all they are all dead-- no! you did what you had to do you saved even more lives-- It was as if the cube whispered back, fought against the dark messages. His fingers tightened on it underneath his tunic.

She shook her head. “No. It’s the second Stellar Pe—I mean, Death Star. “

“A second one?” Luke stared at her. “But that’s…”

“Impossible. Only it's very real.” She swiped her finger, and the chart shifted. “And here is Diswalt.” She zeroed in on a planet with two moons. They were positioned as if Diswalt were a head and the satellites its ears.

“The Death Star is in the same quadrant as us.”

She nodded. “And this—“ she pointed at a nearby star system, “--is where your Rebellion fleet is stationed.”

The realization slammed into him with the force of two photon torpedoes. “The fleet is heading into a trap.”

“Yes,” she said simply. She waved her hands and the map disappeared.

Anger hit like a lightning strike, sharp, fast and hot. He concentrated on his breathing, each gasp a struggle. “Why are you telling me this?" he managed to force out. "Why, when I can see what will happen but I can’t stop it! Are you really such a Beast?” He automatically stretched out with the Force, searching for Leia, anyone, someone who could hear him and heed his warning. But just as it had been since his first night, he felt no one.

No one, except the Beast. She remained still, as if a statue had replaced her in the chair. Only her gaze remained vibrant, shimmering with hot emotion. “Yes, I am a Beast,” she eventually said. “That’s what I am. But I can think like a human. Feel like one.” A short, mirthless laugh. “At least, I haven't been able to deny it these last weeks.

She rose from the chair, wincing slightly. Here,” she said, handing him the device, “this is top of the line Imperial tech. It will allow you to find your friends. My shuttle is cloaked in the back garden, fueled and ready. The transponder code should allow you to escape Imperial notice. “ She have him a tight smile. “You’re on your own in persuading your Rebel friends to take you in.”

Luke turned the device over and over in his hands. “I don’t understand.”

She ignored him. “I’ll send a White Worker to escort you to the ship. Looma is packing your things as we speak.”

He caught her slender hand in his, causing her to stop. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

She looked down at their joined hands, then back up at him. “Let’s just say someone showed me how to stop using the Force as a blunt instrument. Once I did that, many things to which I was blind became clear.”

He held her yellow gaze with his – no. Not yellow. Green. Her eyes were green. A deep, clear emerald. “What happened while you were away?”

She swallowed, her fingers tightening on his. Warmth spread from where they connected, traveled the length of his limbs.“I was sent on a hunt by one of my Master’s subordinates,” she said softly. “The prey didn’t deserve to be hunted. I did what I could, but his life wasn't mine to save. Now I am ensuring others won’t die.”

“But you're hurt,” he said, fighting the urge the brush an errant curl off her face.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Not as much as I have hurt others in the past. Now go. You don’t have much time.”

“Come with me,” he blurted out. “The Rebellion could use you.”

"Just the Rebellion?" She raised an eyebrow and half-smirked at him.

"I--" he began, but she cut him off, with a shake of her head, the humor disappearing from her expression as quickly as it had appeared.

“I cannot. My Master still commands me. But you? I release you, Luke Skywalker. You are free to go.” She let go of his hand, leaving his fingers empty and cold, and walked through the door.

“I’ll return,” he called after her. “I promise.”

“Don’t be stupid, farmer,” he heard from a distance – or maybe through the Force – and she was gone.

 

IT'S BAAAAAAAACK

 

Fantastic! Oh SQUEE! I love L/M in any form, obviously.

 

Due to having a very busy RL going on far away from the boards I almost missed your two latest updates. This story is a gem. And I like your use of the French language!

“Zut alors!” Looma exclaimed. “The food tray, I ‘ave completely forgot!” He clasped his hands together. “I will bring it to you, tout de suite.”

Please keep me on your update list & do not be crossed if I do not comment immediately. RL really has me in it´s grip.

 

It's back, I caught up and it's as lovely as ever! I really, really enjoy how you develop the Luke/Mara relationship in this story. Also, the description of Diswalt and its moons as a mouse with large ears made me chuckle And we are clearly entering the final stretch now Looking forward to your next update!

 

I adore scenes in which Luke watches Mara from a distance and describes her grace.

 

So...

A long time ago, in a galaxy so identical to our own it IS our own, I started this fanfic.

And did pretty well at regular updates.

Until a year ago.

But. My new resolution is to finish things I started. So without further ado:

(Many lines are intentionally borrowed from the scripts of both films, and meant as loving homages)

* * *

It felt strange to pilot a spacecraft. To slip the bounds of planetary gravity and be free among the stars again. Luke had dreamed of this moment, of escaping Diswalt and the castle and the Beast’s custody. He imagined how ecstatic freedom would feel, how delicious liberation would taste. The galaxy would not be big enough to contain his jubilation.

In reality, parting from the Beast left him cold and bereft. He knew she was right. He knew he had to warn the rebels. But even as the welcome sight of Home One filled his viewport, he fought the urge to turn the shuttle around. After all, Leia and Han had an entire Alliance with which to fight. And they had each other.

The Beast had no one except Pottz, K’gworth and Looma. And while he appreciated the strange trio far more than he had ever thought possible when he first met them, three almost but not quite alive servants were no match for the Emperor.

He just hoped he would return to her in time.

He transmitted his command codes and was given immediate permission to dock. Despite his worry for the Beast, his heart thumped painfully at the thought of finally seeing his friends. It has been so long. But when he descended the ship’s ramp, only Threepio was there to greet him. “Master Luke!” the droid exclaimed. “You are such a sight for sore eyes! Did your top secret mission go well?”

“My what?” Luke asked. Then he remembered. The Beast had used the dark side of the Force to wipe everyone’s memories as she allowed the Millennium Falcon to escape. Apparently that had extended to Threepio and the Falcon’s computers.

“Your mission! When we didn’t hear from you, we feared the worst. The Princess will be so happy to hear you are back!”

Luke looked around. Only essential landing bay personnel seemed to on the deck. “Speaking of, where is Leia? And Han? And Admiral Ackbar? I must speak with them at once.”

“Oh! I nearly forgot! You will want to go the main briefing roof. Mon Mothma giving an address. Come along. This way, this way.”

Luke followed the droid and arrived in the briefing room just in time to hear Mon Mothma mention the new battle station. Good. So they knew already. He searched for his friends to see if he could take a seat near them, but Han and Leia sat in the center of the room, toward the front near where Mon Mothma spoke. Luke settled into a chair in the back, not wanting to draw attention to himself while the leader of the Alliance was speaking.

“We’ve learned the Emperor himself is personally overseeing the final stages of the construction of this new Death Star.” Mon Mothma paused, her eyes downcast. “Many Bothans died at the hands of the Emperor’s Beasts to bring us this information. It’s a miracle one of the Beasts somehow let our spy slip through the deadly net.”

Luke sat up straighter. Was that the mission his Beast had been on? Where she received all her injuries? She had helped the Rebels?

He had to get back to Diswalt. If the Emperor knew…

“Our information pinpoints the exact location of the Emperor's new battle station. But most important of all, we've learned that the Emperor himself is personally overseeing the final stages of the construction of this Death Star,” Mon Mothma continued.

Luke exhaled and the hard knot of worry making a permanent home between his shoulder blades began to unravel. If the Emperor was overseeing the Death Star, then he wasn’t on Diswalt.

Admiral Ackbar came to stand next to Mon Mothma. He pushed a button, and a hologram of a familiar planet with two moons for ears appeared. Luke’s knot tangled and spread. “You can see here the Death Star orbiting planet of Diswalt. Although the weapon systems on this Death Star are not yet operational, the Death Star does have a strong defense mechanism. It is protected by an energy shield, which is generated from a tower on the planet. The shield must be deactivated for any attack to be successful. Once the shield is down, our fighters will be able to knock out the main reactor.”

Oh. No. He immediately knew the tower had to be the Beast’s. He sprung to his feet. “I volunteer to take down the shield.”

“Luke!” Leia jumped out of her seat and ran to him, crushing him with her hug as much as her petite figure would allow. “You’re back!”

“Hey, kid.” Han followed behind her and gave him a bruising slap on the back. “Good to see you.” Chewie growled his agreement from where he stood along the far wall.

“We volunteer, too,” Leia said, her brown eyes shining. “Don’t we, Han?”

“No,” Luke said quickly. The last thing he needed was Han or Leia getting trigger-happy around the Beast. His friends would see the monster only. They wouldn’t know the Beast was so much more.

“What?” Leia turned to him, her eyebrows knitted together. “You’ll need us. You can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, I can—“ Luke started to say, but Admiral Ackbar cut him off.

“We thank you, Commander Skywalker, but access to the planet is restricted to Imperial ships. Without one, we cannot—“

“I have one,” Luke said. “An Imperial shuttle. It’s sitting in the landing bay right now.”

“How did you—“

“Nice going, kid—“

Han and Leia spoke over each other, but Luke didn’t hear them. He gently pushed past them and walked down the stairs of the made his way to Admiral Ackbar. “I can take down the shield. But I have to go alone.”

“Admiral, tell him he’s being unreasonable,” Leia commanded.

Luke didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze fixed on the Mon Calimari. “The Emperor is on that planet. He's come for me. That's why I have to go. I have to face him.”

“Great. One top secret mission and he’s got delusions of grandeur.” Han tried to roll his eyes, but it came out as more of a grimace.

Luke finally faced his friends. “You know it’s the truth. He wants me for his collection of Beasts. He won’t stop. The longer I remain here, the more danger I’m putting the Alliance in.”

Leia put her hand on his shoulder, forced him to look at her. “You have a power I don’t understand and never will. But don’t go to the Emperor. Leave! Run far away.”

Luke shook his head. “I can’t. There’s someone else – the Emperor keeps a Beast on that planet. She has to be rescued.”

Chewie roared and Han snorted. “A Beast? That’s an even better reason for taking that shuttle and skedaddling to the other side of the galaxy.”

Leia shook her head, her dark gaze disbelieving. “Luke, are you insane?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I…I met her on my mission. She’s kind. And gentle. In her own way.”

The room, mostly quiet as the three friends talked, erupted into a low roar of whispers and comments hissed behind hands. Admiral Ackbar stepped forward. “Commander Skywalker, we thank you for bringing us an Imperial Shuttle. But I suggest you get a good night’s sleep before you speak further.”

“But—“ Luke protested.

“That’s an order,” the Admiral said He turned to the bearded man deep in conversation with Mon Mothma. “General Madine, you will prepare a strike team to storm that tower. We need that shield DOWN.”

General Madine nodded. “They’ll deactivate the generator. And they won’t come home until that Beast is good and dead.”

“No!“ Luke protested. “You don’t understand. Who do you think let the Bothan spy go? It was her. The Beast.”

Admiral Ackbar shook his head sadly. “I fear your mission, whatever it was, has gravely compromised you. You are confined to quarters, immediately. General Madine, gather your team and take Commander Skywalker’s shuttle, at once.”

Luke had to do something. He had to act. They coulnd’t go after the Beast. The strike team would only be killed, and her life would be at risk as well. Concentrating on Ackbar, he raised his hand and started to intone. “You will allow me access to the shuttle and safe passage to Dis—“

Something large, and furry, and HARD hit the side of his head. He crumpled to the cold metal deck of the briefing room.


“Sorry, kid,” he heard Han say as consciousness started to drift away. “It’s for your own good.”

 

Hi there! What a turn of events The more Luke insisted, yikes! The more obstinate everyone got, which you can understand. They think he's gone loopy. Now he's literally out of it. Glad you're back here and also reading other fics.

 

Thank you! It's so good to be back. Real Life kinda grabbed me and pulled me under, but I really want to finish this fic. Thanks so much for reading!

* * *

Luke’s senses slowly swam to consciousness. His head pounded and he reached out his hand for the glass of water Looma always put by his bedside. When his fingers encountered nothing but thin air, he snapped fully awake.

He wasn't in his giant four-poster bed hung with tapestries, but a narrow bunk set into a curved metal wall. So he wasn't in Home One’s officer quarters, but at least he wasn't in the brig. His eyesight gradually adjusted to the dim light. Ah. He was in a recovery room in the medbay. Of course.

He was still wearing the clothes he arrived in. With a grunt, he swung his feet to the floor and stood up. The rush of blood to his head caused the ache to intensify. He ran through a few of the calming exercises taught to him by the Beast during their sparring matches, and the throbbing lessened. With the pain receding, he could concentrate and reach out with the Force.

A 2-1B droid was nearby, tending other patients. In fact, Home One still hummed with beings. He sensed their grim focus and determination as they moved swiftly about their tasks, preparing for the battle ahead. Good. So the strike team probably hadn’t left yet. There was still time to return to the Beast.

He stretched, trying to wake his dormant muscles, and felt a twinge in his side he’d never noticed before. Strange. It was almost as if he had slept on something hard—of course. He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the cube he had picked up in the Beast’s library. In all the confusion and haste of leaving Diswalt and arriving on Home One, he had forgotten all about it.

As he held it, the dark walls of the cube began to glow, casting an amber-purple light. It began to hum and its surface warmed, causing him to snatch his hand back. The cube remained where it was, floating in mid-air. “What are you?” he murmured under his breath, and then held his breath as a hologram of a young humanoid, his face wide and creamy white, appeared. He reminded Luke of Pottz, but he wore robes of an age now past. “Greetings. I am Chippcupp Clan Wedgewood-Lennox, but you may call me Chipp. I am the gatekeeper of this holocron. You have an inquiry for me?”

A holocon! Master Yoda had told him of them, before his training had been cut so short. They held Jedi lore, passed down almost since recorded history began. But supposedly the Emperor had used his Beasts to hunt down all Jedi artifacts and destroy them.

Luke remembered the Beast’s library, the shelves of datapads and printed flimsiplast. And the repository of other polyhedral objects like this one. So the castle on Diswalt was indeed more than the Beast’s lair – it was a treasure trove of artifacts that needed to be preserved. Now, more than ever, it was vital he stopped the strike team from destroying the castle – and stopped the Emperor, period.

Maybe this holocron might be the first step in doing both.

“Tell me about Diswalt and the castle where I found you,” he commanded, and the hologram of Chipp began to speak.

* * *

The Beast stood in the entry hall to await her Master. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop trembling. She told herself to stop it. Her Master raised her to be strong and fierce, a cold-blooded killer laser-focused on the missions he handed to her. If she wanted to preserve her worthless life, she had to clear her mind of all doubts. She held her chin high. When he arrived, he would see she was a faithful servant, with no will but his; no desires save the ones he voiced.

But the lies didn’t work. If she couldn’t believe them, he certainly wouldn’t. She only hoped Luke had successfully returned to his Rebel friends. “Please be safe,” she whispered under her breath. “And don't return here.”

“What was that, mistress?” Pottz’s voice came from behind her.

The Beast jumped. That was bad. Pottz shouldn’t have startled her. She must really be on edge. “I thought I told you to stay—“ she began as she turned around. Then she stopped at the sight before her.

Pottz stood at the head of a battalion of White Workers. Each held a blaster in their armored hands. To their left, Lumiere grasped a rapier sword. As she glanced at him, he drew a “Z” in the air with the tip of the blade before returning it to upright and giving her a slight bow. “Vous et moi, ça ne changera pas,” he said. Before she could respond, K’gworth bustled into view, handing out blaster cartridges to the White Workers.“I found these tucked away in a locked closet in those miserable dungeons—“

“You went into dungeons?” the Beast managed to get out.

K’gworth stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. “For you, Mistress, anything.” Then he turned back to the White Workers. “Now, defensive positions, everyone! As we rehearsed. Don’t forget your programming!”

The Beast shook her head. “It’s useless, you know. My Master sees all, knows all. Go back to your quarters and stay out of the way, as I commanded. And take the White Workers with you.”

K’gworth, Looma and Pottz exchanged glances with each other. Then K’gworth shrugged. “If it is a fight he wants, we’ll be ready for him.”

The Beast opened up her mouth to retort. They had to understand the severity of the situation. She knew her life was forfeit in retaliation for her actions. There was no way her Master would overlook her inability to kill the Bothan who carried the stolen plans to the Stellar Peace II. But her servants – there was still hope for them. She didn’t want their ‘tronics dismantled, their animas removed. And he would do it. She’d seen him do more for lesser transgressions. “You must—“

Looma put his thin, golden-skinned hand on her arm. In his other hand he held a mirror. “Mistress, s'il vous plaît, take a look. What do you see?”

She saw a girl. A scared, frail girl. She managed a laugh. “If you thought to remind me just how mortal I am, Looma, I believe the Emperor will prove that to me soon enough.”

“Non.” Looma shook his head with blazing speed. “Look again.”

She tried to thrust the mirror away. “We don’t have time—“ She stopped. Grabbing the mirror out of Looma’s hands, she peered intensely at her reflection. Could it be? It wasn’t a trick of the light? “My eyes. They’re…green. Not yellow.”

Pottz smiled at her. Tears sparkled at the edge of her own violet eyes. “The spell is breaking, mistress. The Emperor’s time is at hand.”

The Beast could scarcely breath. “That’s a myth. A forbidden one.”

“Nevertheless,” K’gworth said, thrusting two blasters in his belt, “we stand with you today.”

Before the Beast could tell them once more to leave her and find a place of safety, the sound of repulsors threatened to shatter their eardrums. The ground shook under their feet. And a dark, malicious voice echoed the Beast’s mind. “Miss me, my pet Beast?” the Emperor sneered.

“He’s here,” she managed to choke out. And then all other thoughts were driven out of her brain as the Emperor viciously seized control. Using the dark sider of the Force, he compelled her limbs to march to the heavy front door and throw it open to greet him.

 

The return to Diswalt was easy. Almost too easy, Luke thought. He apologized to Admiral Ackbar for his momentary lack of judgment, blaming it on exhaustion. The Admiral gladly cleared him for the strike team. Han thumped him on the back and Chewie roared his approval when Luke sprang on board just moments before the shuttle as to take off. Threepio thanked his Maker. Only Leia continued to show signs of concern, her dark gaze settling on him more often than he would like. He’d always felt a connection with Leia, but right now he could do without her acting like a big sister with an addlepated younger brother.

“I’m fine,” he said to her as the planet came into view. “Don't even have a headache.” Much, he thought. Wookiee fists HURT, even when punches were pulled.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I didn’t ask."

“Didn’t you? I could’ve sworn I heard you—“

“Heads’ up,” Han called from the pilot seat. “We’re entering atmosphere. We’ll make radio contact in three, two—“

“Welcome to the Happiest Planet in the Galaxy!” a male voice chirped over the comms. “How may we make your day magical?”

“Um, Shuttle Tydirium requesting permission to land,” Han said. He mouthed to his passengers, “Are these beings for real?”

“Certainly! If you will input your reservation number, we will direct you to the landing bay nearest your resort destination. Our spaceport cast members will be happy to arrange the transportation of your luggage to your hotel so you can begin making family memories instantly! Press One if you did not make dining reservations and would like to make them now. Press Two if you did not receive your Magic Bracelets at your planet of residence and wish to have them delivered to your ship. Press Three—“

Han muted the comm. Then he turned to Leia. “Were they speaking Basic? Because none of that made any sense.”

Luke covered his laugh with a cough. “You hailed Diswaltland Kingdom. We want Woolverton.” He pointed to a dark landmass in the southern hemisphere of the planet, far from the bright, multicolored lights covering the continent underneath them. Not too much longer now--

A presence, cold and dark, slimy with malevolence, invaded his thoughts. The whispering voices returned, louder and more insistent than before: Killer of millions your little beast is dead if you do not come at once dead dead she will die and it’s your fault your fault taste your depair so sweet you will come now now she will make such a lovely corpse lips of blue skin of ice and it will be your fault your fault your fault

“Stop.” Luke shut his eyes and ran through several breathing exercises taught to him by the Beast during their sparring matches. When he opened them, he discovered Han had landed the shuttle near the Beast's village.

“Luke?” Leia asked. “You’ve gone very pale.”

He nodded. “I’ll be fine.” He took another cleansing breath, just to be sure.

Han poked his head into the passenger compartment. “I’ve got good news. I’ve spotted stormtroopers coming our way, so I’m guessing they’re about to discover we aren’t really an Imperial shuttle crew.”

“That’s good news?” Leia asked.

Han shook his head. “No. The good news is they have speeder bikes, and they didn’t bother to lock them up. C’mon.”

“Wait,” Luke said. “You remember what I told you? The generator shield is in the castle’s dungeons.” Thanks to the holocron, Luke finally had a comprehensive map of the castle – or as ChippCupp knew it, the former Jedi Temple. Trust Palapatine to twist and warp a building that had once served as a bastion for good in the galaxy. Just like he twisted and warped the Beast. “The dungeons put out a frequency that disrupt droids and other electronics, so Threepio, stay here and do your best to look inconspicuous. Oh, and don't travel in the forests at night. Trust me on that one.”

“Oh dear,” the droid moaned.

Han clapped the droid on its shoulder. “Good luck, goldenrod. Chewie, come with me. We have some bikes to liberate.”

Leia stopped Luke when he would exit the shuttle. “Why did you ask if we remember your instructions? Aren’t you going to be with us?” Her sharp gaze honed in on his.

Luke sighed. “Leia—“

“I knew it! I could feel it. You’re going to him, aren’t you. The Emperor.” She folded her arms tightly against her chest and gave him a regally disappointed stare.

“I have to.” He tried to push past her.

Leia’s gentle hand on his arm stopped him. “But why?”

He turned to face her. “Because...there is good in the Beast. I've felt it. I can save her. At least, I have to try.”

Leia huffed, but a tear sparkled in the corner of her eye. “You’ll die if you go to the Emperor, you know.”

“And she’ll die I don’t. I can’t let that happen.” Luke pulled Leia to him and hugged her tight, the let her go with a smile. “See you when the shield is down,” he said as he hopped out of the shuttle.

At least he hoped he would.

 

Excellent - has the ROTJ feel but is still different Love the Luke/Leia thing, although I don't think they know they're siblings in this timeframe But there's that warm comfy family feel anyway.

 

Thank you! I'm glad the family thing is coming across. They don't know they are siblings because Vader is missing in this timeline. But since they both have the Force, even if Leia isn't fully aware of it yet...

Thank you so much for reading and commenting! It's truly appreciated.


* * *

The battle for the Beast's castle was over in what felt like seconds. With the Emperor controlling the Beast, her servants didn’t stand a chance. She could only watch in horror as the Emperor dispersed with their spirited but meager defenses in the most vicious ways possible, using the dark side of the Force to render limbs from torsos, pry weapons from fingers and turn them against their owners.

The Emperor rubbed his hands together, flashes of lightning still hovering, when his grisly work was done. “Ah, just the first of the battles to be won today. Today has seen the end of your little rebellion. Soon it will see the end of the Rebel Alliance.”

“No!” the Beast cried. The Emperor let go of his control of her body and she immediately knelt beside K’gworth, trying to gather as many of the scattered clockwork springs as she could. She’d rebuilt him before. She can do it again....

“It’s no use.” The Emperor tsked. “The animas are gone. Feel for yourself.”

“It can't be,” she muttered. “No.” But he was right. The sparks that had powered her servants – her friends – were gone. She only felt an abyss where once had been warm life.

Rage, deep and searing, filled her from the top of her red curls to the soles of her black leather boots. She grabbed her lightsaber. Igniting it, she sprang for the Emperor, her blade aimed as his throat.

The Emperor held her in stasis mid-leap. “Excellent,” he cackled. “I can feel your anger. Give into it, little Beast.”

“Hate you,” she spat as best she could through frozen lips. The rest of her seethed with hot fury. It started deep in her chest, then spread until her limbs ached with it.

“Yes, yes,” the Emperor crooned. “Let the dark side in. Let it control you once more.”

“Hate you,” the Beast snarled again. Her arms ached to stab her weapon through his non-existent heart. And the only way she would be strong enough to do it would if she used the Force--

“The dark side,” the Emperor said. “Yes. Use it.”

“I will, you monste-“ She reached for the dark side. It flooded her senses, awakening them to more power than she’d ever harnessed before. More power to--

“You…Master,” she finished, bowing her head.

The Emperor released her from his Force grip. She knelt before him. “Let me see your face,” he said, using a wizened finger to lift up her chin. “Ah, good. The spell is not broken, and now never will be. Yellow is such a pretty color on you, my dear. ”

“Yes, Master,” she said, returning her gaze to the floor.

“And now,” the Emperor said, “my new Lord of the Beasts is almost here. I believe the North Tower will give us the best view of his approach.”

The Beast raised her head. “A new Lord of the Beasts?”

“You didn’t think it was going to be you, did you? While you are strong in the Force, he is unequaled. I will have such fun adding him to my menagerie. And all thanks to you, my pet Beast. You played the role I devised for you perfectly.”

Every word the Emperor spoke made her hate him more, yet bound her more tightly to him through the dark side. She followed behind her Master as he climbed the stairs to await his prize in the North Tower.

 

Anger around the Emperor is never a good idea. It simply backfired on our poor beast.

Anyway, nice to see you back!

 

Oh no!!! "Yellow" indeed. Luke will find a different Beast altogether than the one he left behind earlier.

 

Yay, it's alive! (Okay, it's been for a couple of weeks, but I've been DRL-ed and now I'm here.)

This is a wonderful re-imagining of RotJ. The briefing scene on Home One was just perfect, and the Emperor's arrival on Diswalt... *shivers* Poor servants! Poor Beast! But things are about to change...

One detail I really enjoyed is how you highlighted that a lot of what Luke knows of the Force was taught to him by the Beast. I think the time has come for him to show her how to use it against the Emperor

 

so...

It's been a few years.

But, I figure if we can get new films some thirty years after the first trilogy, it's okay if I update the fanfic? Maybe?

Also, I've forgotten how to change the title of the thread, if we can even do that now, to reflect an update? So sorry if this looks like a bump of a very old thread.

* * *

Han, Leia and Luke approached the castle in silence, save for the whine of their speeder bikes. Too quiet, for Luke’s peace of mind. True, the stormtroopers who had been approaching the shuttle would be busy with the rest of Madine’s task force, who had followed them into Diswalt’s atmosphere and were no doubt on the ground by now. But the forest – the forest was still. As if it were waiting for something.

As if it were waiting for him, his mind supplied.

Leia rode next to him, her expression determined, her comms absent any chatter. After several klicks, she turned her head to look at him. “You still haven’t changed your mind,” she said into her helmet’s mouthpiece. It was statement, not a question.

“No.” He reached out with the Force, hoping to sense the Beast, if even just a whisper of her presence, but received nothing in return. Hopefully, that was a side effect of the ysalamiri bubbles constantly forming and reforming around him as they sped through the forest, and not an indication that she was…

He shook his head to clear it. She was alive. He would know if she were dead. He would.

But she was in danger. He knew that as intimately as he once knew the twists and turns of Begger’s Canyon.

The castle came into view. Despite the bright sunshine they’d encountered since landing on Diswalt, dark clouds swirled around the towers, concentrating on the northernmost one. Lightning bolts temporarily blinded their vision, and thunderclaps rang their ears.

“The entrance to the dungeons is at the southeast corner,” Luke shouted into the comms. Then he opened the speeder bike’s throttle and shot off before Leia or Han could form a protest. The last thing he saw before he disappeared into the copse of trees flanking the castle’s main entrance were Leia’s dark eyes, angry and sad but not at all surprised.

***


The Beast stood guard on the stone terrace outside her North Tower room, howling wind lashing her hair around her head while cold rain soaked through her cloak. Her back was to the Emperor as he surveyed the forests surrounding the castle. It was good position from which to watch the only door in and out of the terrace – and from which not to see his death’s head grin of cruel triumph. She wanted, oh! how she wanted, to wipe that expression from his face, see it crumple into misery when he realized he could no longer control her. But the spell…the spell was too strong. It was woven into her very being since before she could remember, reinforced daily as the Emperor molded her into the Beast she was.

The Beast she would remain.

Stay away, farmer. She projected the thought as hard as she could, knowing it was futile. The Emperor ensured ysalamiri blanketed the forest, deadening all use of the Force for miles around the castle. She had no more chance of warning Luke than she did of breaking free of her Master.

A loud, malicious chuckle erupted behind her. She turned around as the Emperor rubbed his claw-like hands together. “Excellent! All is going to my plan. Soon the Rebellion will be crushed, as even now young Skywalker approaches.”

He beckoned to the Beast, who found herself walking to his position and kneeling before him. “What is thy bidding, my Master?”

He smiled, and if she thought his visage was disturbing before, now it was downright bone chilling.
“Your work here is almost finished, my Beast. Greet our visitor. Then bring him to me.”

“As you wish.” She arose, her joints numb, her limbs heavy. But she would do as he bid. She had no choice.

***

The castle door was ajar, which was enough to make Luke’s heart race with concern. The deep score marks on the door and outer walls left by blasters and laser cannons, blackened and still smoking in sections, caused his blood to run cold. But it was the sight that greeted him just inside the entrance that brought him to his knees.

K’gsworth, Looma and Pottz lay in pieces, their inner springs scattered and clockwork gears shattered. He knelt on the stone floor, hoping against hope to find a spark, a still working connection, anything to suggest they could be rebuilt just as good as new. But he could only discern inanimate shards.

“I told you not to come back.”

Luke scrambled to his feet, his hand automatically going to his lightsaber. Then he let his shoulders fall. A smidge. “Beast.”

“The Emperor is expecting you.”

“I know.”

Her face crumpled at his words. Just a flash, and just for a second, but he saw it. He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched. “I came back. Now come with me. There is good in you, I know there is. I’ve seen it. I’ve experienced it.”

Slowly, she began to lift her hand as if to take his. Then her hand twisted, and Luke’s lightsaber flew from his relaxed grip, landing with a slap in her palm. “You don’t know the power of the Dark Side. I must obey my master.”

Her words dripped with cool resolve, but he could see the tremble in her lips, the despair deep in the golden depths of her gaze. He tried one more time. “You don’t want to do this. Search your feelings. I have. That’s why I’m here. For you.”

Something like a sob was torn from her throat. “It is too late for me. And now it is too late for you.” She turned and headed toward the North Tower without one glance back.

Luke followed her. He had no choice, as she well knew. As her master no doubt knew well. He had no illusions that this would end happily for him, but at least he could try to free the Beast once and for all before dying.

He only hoped Han and Leia were finding success in turning off the generator shield in the dungeons. He let that thought cheer him up until he stood in the Beast’s room in the North Tower. Then the sheer malevolence of the Dark Side entity on the other side of the door overwhelmed his senses. A deep, dark chill engulfed him, a black hole absent of any life and light.

A black hole that sought to overpower him, beat him, seduce him until he desired nothing but to wallow in its embrace.

He wasn’t strong enough to resist it.

 

I recently read that part on the bus with my mobile phone, happy that you finally came around to update. But until today I did not really have time to praise you about it.

A black hole that sought to overpower him, beat him, seduce him until he desired nothing but to wallow in its embrace.

He wasn’t strong enough to resist it.

And I dearly hope you do not leave us all behind with a cruel, yet excellent cliffie like that for many months to come. I hope you have enough time and ideas to update any time again soon.