coolhandluke | Ahch-To, Baby

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Ahch-To, Baby

There were a lot of things Luke hadn't asked himself in the years since arriving on Ach-To. Some because he didn't want to know--or imagine--the answers. Some because there was no reason to borrow more trouble than he already had, and the litany of regrets was already long enough. Some because, well, they just weren't thinks that Luke Skywalker ever thought of.

Like the fact that he looked like some old Jedi hermit, complete with beard and unkempt hair and dingy robes. It hadn't exactly been part of the plan, but then, there hadn't been anyone to comment, or even a mirror.

That was the outside, however. Inside, something in Luke had died long ago, stopping in its tracks. Meeting himself, he would have assumed wisdom and calm, if a little eccentricity. But that hadn't been why Luke had come here, and it hadn't been what he'd found. No, it wasn't the Jedi Master who had retreated. It was the scared farm-boy, who'd flown too high and been brought crashing to ground. It was Luke from Tatooine, who had tried to be Master Skywalker, the hero, and failed.

That was what he'd been running from. That expectation, and his failure at it. That, and the disaster he knew his presence would bring to what was left of what he and the Rebellion had built, if Ben knew where he was. Better, he'd thought, to close himself off and shut down before he hurt anyone else. By his own hand, or by leading Kylo Ren to exact revenge.

It was not so simple a thing, however, to die. Unwilling to take any more lives, including his own, he lingered. Unwilling to open himself up to the Force, he nevertheless existed within it, his body sustained by it as much as by the food he caught. For awhile it seemed that he would just continue, in a sort of limbo of his own making, unwilling to make a move that would upset the galaxy even further than his presence already had.

Until she came.

Rey held a mirror up to him, one he wasn't always willing to gaze into but one from which it was impossible to escape--not least because she simply wouldn't go away. At first resentful, he quickly became resigned.

And then, suddenly, he became expectant. Not hopeful--he would not go so far as to say that--but there came a morning when he realized he would be disappointed to find her gone, given up. Despite his fear, despite his warnings, he wanted her to persist.

Maybe because he hadn't. And as much shame as he felt over that fact, the shame was at least an emotion. And as much as he'd tried to suppress those over the past years, the irritation at her arrival had begun to wear away at his resolve like grains of sand until emotions he'd thought long buried began to unearth themselves.

The truth was, Luke Skywalker was every bit the mess he looked. And yet, the longer she stayed, the less he could find it within himself to resent it. He'd been too long alone, and too long waiting. It only stood to reason that he'd bend to the first wind that came.

Wasn't how this had all started, to begin with?

The sun had barely risen when he took position, waiting outside the hut she'd claimed, unwilling to seem too eager but having to quash a small stirring of impatience, just the same. Warnings not to get too close, too attached, flickered in his mind's eye like a glitched holovid. But Luke had never once detached from anything--and if going to the most remote location he could find hadn't done it, he didn't know that it was worth trying, anymore.

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"Honestly? I was too distracted to think I'd catch anything, even with your help." Her confession felt innocent enough, but then she realized that Luke might wonder over what had distracted her, if he didn't already know. After all, she hadn't exactly been subtle about staring at him.

Not that she could stop herself from doing that now, not with the way he smiled at her. He was outright beaming at her, and she found herself unable to look away even if he pointedly told her to. No one had ever looked at her like that, aside from Finn after they'd used the Falcon to escape the First Order on Jakku. But that had been understandable; anyone would beam after surviving a near-death experience. Luke was just smiling because of her. That-... that was weird. In the best possible way.

Though she didn't want to turn around, she knew it wouldn't be fair for her to let him bring the fish up on his own, especially not when he was doing it while pressed against her back. So she faced forward again, helping him to pull the pole up along the cliff. Even this, though, felt intimate in its own way, working together towards a common task, and Rey decided they would have to go fishing together more often.

Distracted by what? By his proximity, and the discomfort that must mean for a person so unused to company? Was there something on his face? Granted, he'd had no mirror, literally or figuratively, for years.

But she was still smiling. Still grinning, eyes flashing, and he could not for the life of him figure out what might lead to such an expression. Maybe she really was that excited about fishing. Either way, he could distract himself a few minutes with the task of retrieving their kill, the large fish coming into sight slowly as they pulled it up together. It was fat and healthy, and would feed them both for awhile if salted or cured.

He had to move away to land it, of course, and he immediately felt the cold lack of her body against his and told himself not to dwell on it like some sort of pervert.

"So, what do you think?" he asked when they had the fish laid out and the spear was back in the water. "Could you do this on your own?"

As soon as Luke moved away, Rey immediately felt the loss of his body heat. It wasn't the same sort of cold she felt when the temperature dropped, though. This one was much more personal, and not the sort of cold that she'd ever learned how to withstand. At least, not since those first lonely nights on Jakku, most of which she'd blocked from her mind.

She helped him haul the fish up as best as she could, panting slightly at the exertion. It wasn't hard work so much as it simply forced her to exert her muscles in a different way from what she was used to. She could adapt to that easily enough.

Despite that, Rey hesitated at Luke's question, looking down at the fish so he wouldn't have to see the mild disappointment in her eyes. She didn't mind being given a task, and she was obviously used to being alone, but... she'd rather not be. Not now.

"I could manage," she reluctantly agreed. Looking up at him, she tried her best to sound casual as she asked, "I'd rather not, though. But I'd understand if you had other things to do."

Luke stared at her. What was wrong now? Was she just now understanding that he'd taken advantage, of sorts, just by being close? Had she objected but he just hadn't been able to see it? It took him awhile to realize that she thought he meant now.

"What?" he said, brow furrowing. "No. We don't need more fish now. You do realize this is part of your training."

Rey knew that more fish wouldn't be needed right at this moment - there was no way a fish as large as the one they'd caught couldn't be enough for her and Luke for several days, even given how much she could pck away if given the chance. But she'd assumed that, in the future-....

Oh, but right. She didn't have a future on Ahch-To. Neither of them did, if she had her way, and they'd leave this lonely island and return to the Resistance to stop the war and go on with their lives. Rey was already thinking for the long-term and playing house, embarrassed though she might be to realize it.

"Training?" she asked, as though having no idea what he was talking about. Of course she knew; she just didn't want to admit that she'd been thinking about long-term planning. Luke would surely think she'd overstayed her welcome at some point.

"The fish are part of a metaphor, then?" she asked, cracking a small smile in hopes of keeping him from asking after just how distracted she clearly was. "Or are you saying that fish play in an important part in fighting back the Dark Side?"

He was going to have to reverse his earlier analysis, that he was going to get away with it, that she'd let him off the hook. With how odd she was acting, Luke was sure that he'd done something to tip her from patience with a dirty old man into nervous avoidance.

And he'd already thought himself a failure as a teacher.

"The fish is just a fish," he said, as if explaining to a small child. "The point is that the Force is present in everything you do. There are connections, and consequences, to everything."

He paused, mirth departed at her discomfiture, unsure what to do now.

"You're clearly... in need of rest," he said after a moment, shifting his weight. "I can take care of this."

Give her an out. Let her know it was all right to depart his company, if she found it so difficult to stand.

Though she'd known she was making things uncomfortable, it had looked as though Luke had been willing to overlook it, given the way he'd been smiling at her. But now... was he just casting her aside all over again?

This? This is why she generally preferred machines to people. Even the most lifelike droids weren't privy to such a wide gamut of confusing emotions.

"Luke...."

Though she'd been calling him that for some time, it was the first time Rey had realized it consciously, and she stopped herself. When had that started? After the dream? During their discussion the night before? She couldn't remember, and she wondered why it suddenly seemed so important now.

"We caught it together," she settled on saying. "We should carry it back together, and clean it together, and cook it together. I-...." She closed her mouth, realizing that she was coming far too close to saying something she probably shouldn't, but then, she had no idea what she was and wasn't allowed to say anymore, aside from the obvious.

"I like doing things together. With you." That sounded even more awkward out loud than it had in her head, but she might as well keep going with it. "I'm sorry if I haven't made that clear. Or... if I've made it too clear."

That was about as straightforward as she was currently willing to get on the subject, and hopefully he'd understand the subtext well enough to help start clear the air.

He understood that something was going on, something Rey wasn't willing to address herself. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Should he bring it up? Should he let it go, pretend none of it ever happened?

But then what?

They'd go through the motions until either he died, she left, or something else happened to make this tenuous equilibrium untenable. Him pretending he hadn't had those thoughts, and Rey pretending, poorly, that she hadn't heard them. Luke sighed. He was, numerically, an adult. He was a legendary figure in the galaxy. He was, currently, trying to forget all of that by being alone on an island but clearly that wasn't working.

He did not want to admit this out loud.

"Look," he said, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose. "You're clearly uncomfortable. You're too polite to mention it but I know I make you uncomfortable. It's kind of you to try to save my feelings, but ... I promise you, it was a mistake that will not happen again."

His breath let out in a rush, a flush of adrenaline unbecoming to his age flooding his system as fight or flight absurdly tried to kick in, now that he was, almost, admitting what had happened the night before. She'd tell him he was disgusting, that she was trying to overlook his obvious inappropriateness, and they'd... what? Go back to gutting fish?

Rey instinctively tensed the moment Luke began speaking, expecting him to finally bring everything out in the open and tell her that she was a nice girl but she was just a girl, a child that had had a dream that likely signified an awakening of a very different sort than just the Force. What he ended up saying, though... unless "uncomfortable" was an overly polite or antiquated way for expressing what he'd actually made her feel....

It didn't make sense. None of it did.

Calling it a mistake hurt, even if that was what she'd been willing to swear up and down that it had been. But that was different. She could call it a mistake. He had no right to disavow her feelings like that, misguided though he might think they are.

"You can't control what I dream about at night," she blurted out, trying not to get angry. "And if you can, you have no business doing so, nor any business calling my feelings a 'mistake.' Is that understood?"

Time stopped.

On the edge of a cliff, Luke stood, staring at an extremely powerful and entirely untrained force of nature, less than half his age, under the unfortunate delusion that the dreams that had caused him to wake with more ardor than he'd felt in decades were hers. It was almost worse, in his mind, knowing that she blamed herself. That he'd warped her mind enough that she'd internalized his gross desires and thought them her own. It made him feel sick to his stomach, what he'd done to her just by showing her the wonders of the Force. That his powers were both too great, and too rusty, for him to be trusted with other beings.

"Oh, Rey," he breathed sadly, the words snatched away by the wind. "You're wrong. I can, and I did. It was wrong of me, unconscious, but that's no excuse. The link we shared... I've gone so long without opening that door, I didn't realize I had not shut it. What you saw... I should never have dreamed, let alone let you see. I betrayed your trust. It was unintentional, but I did it. And I... I'm sorry."

The stretch of silence that followed her outburst set Rey ill at ease, and she wondered whether Luke had actually known at all, or if he'd only suspected, or if he was completely and utterly confused and searching out her thoughts for answers now. But she didn't feel him prodding about in her head - not that she knew whether or not she could - and his response when he finally did speak-....

Why was none of this making sense?

"What are you-...?" Her brow furrowed as she tried to parse out his words, only for her eyes to widen as she felt her face go warm again. "You never should have-...? You mean, you dreamed about it too?"

The idea that he thought the shared dream came from him and had absolutely no bearing on Rey's feelings on the matter was something that could be dealt with after she processed this first bombshell.

Luke felt his face reddening, and it was not the chill wind off the ocean. For all the unwanted heat he' felt this morning, this was a new kind, and equally unwelcome. He raised a hand, though whether to emphasize his point or to put a barrier between them was unclear.

"No, Rey, I..." He bit his lip. How obvious did he have to be? "I've been alone here a ... a very long time. It's no excuse, but I'm simply trying to explain... Sometimes we have impulses we don't... can't control. I'm only a man, and I apparently have the same drives as other man."

Some part of Luke wished lightning would strike him dead. Now. Or, preferably, yesterday.

"What I'm trying to say is, you didn't dream it. I did. And my dreams were... communicated. To you. Inadvertently, and inappropriately."

For a long time, Rey didn't respond directly. Then she finally let out a dry, mirthless laugh, seeming surprised by the sudden sound. "And you think women don't have similar drives? Or do you still think I'm just a child who doesn't understand sex?"

That... might have actually been one of the only times she'd ever even said the word sex, and so he wouldn't be too far off to still think of her as a child. But she was going to overlook that as best as she could, or else she just ruined her own point.

"Did it ever occur to you that it could have been my dream, and I was the one who communicated it to you? Because that could well have been the case, if you hadn't had any feelings to that effect before last night."

Luke stared at her, in a way that would have been comical were anyone else watching. Was she speaking another language? Or maybe she'd never met another human being. His mouth opened, then shut. He looked out at the ocean, until a porg made eye contact and made him feel even weirder, so he shut his eyes.

"No, it did not," he said. Maybe if he didn't see her, he could get through this. "Because of who I am, and who you are. There is no reason for you to... This is my fault. I... I'm older, and should know better. And should be able to control..."

He was a teacher. A mentor. All of this... It was beneath him.

Luke's silence made her momentarily wonder if she'd been too harsh, if she was outright admonishing him for something utterly ridiculous. But it wasn't ridiculous, was it? She'd known if she was feeling something foreign and alien to her, and that dream last night - different though it might have been from any other dream she'd ever had - had definitely been hers. For him to take responsibility for it and act as though he'd defiled her brain with imagery like that was taking away from the fact that Rey was, indeed, a grown woman, with drives and desires and needs.

He could deny himself, if he wanted. He had no right to tell her she had to do the same.

"Should be able to control what? My dreams? I don't want you to, even if it would have spared us all... this." She didn't appreciate the fact that he seemed to think someone had to be at fault for any of this; it was nature, which meant that it was natural, and Rey didn't like the idea that Luke felt the need to blame himself for her sexual awakening.

"My reasons are my own, and no one is at 'fault' for that. I don't expect you to want to act on it, but at least I wouldn't tell you you'd be wrong for wanting to act on it, that there'd be no reason to want to act on it. I have enough respect for you to believe that you'd know what you want. I would have expected at least a little of that respect in return."

Luke gaped at her. There was no other word for it. Where could he possibly begin with that speech? With the fact he did respect her enough not to assume she'd actually come to this sort of thing on her own? Or the fact that she was actually discussing acting on it? Or the fact that this whole thing was utterly ridiculous even before they got to specifics?

"Rey, I..." He blinked. "Of course I respect you. I respect you far too much to credit any notion that you would have come to that sort of conclusion on your own. I respect you far too much to think the... the misplaced and craven fantasies of an old man should be shared by someone like you. I respect you far too much to have wished that my lack of control would affect you, when you came here to seek my aid. I should be able to control myself. I don't want to tell you you're wrong, but I can't..." He shook his head, flushed and flabbergasted. "I cannot imagine that this is anything but my... my own isolation and lack of... practice."

"Just because you've been isolated doesn't make this any less real."

She spoke as someone who knew what she was talking about, mostly because she did. She'd kept herself away from most people for most of her life. It could well be that the only reason she'd come to look at Luke this way was because he'd been the only man she'd gotten to really know for more than a few minutes before someone started shooting at her. But did that invalidate the feelings that had developed?

Still, the idea of actually acting on those feelings was something she had absolutely no experience with, even insofar as simply having some physical contact with someone that wasn't violent nor platonic. So while she was horribly tempted to prove beyond a doubt that she really did feel an attraction to him - an attraction that he apparently felt as well - she had no idea how.

"I've been isolated far longer than you have. And believe me, I didn't have these sorts of feelings for any of the other people I'd met recently. If it were a matter of desperation, the matter would have been resolved long before we met. But I'm not that kind of woman. I have standards. And whether or not you think much of yourself, I obviously think the world of you."

Luke was reasonably certain this was not how this story was supposed to go. In his wildest, maddest dreams, he could not have imagined being faced with this. A beautiful, fierce, independent desert girl, more powerful in the Force than anyone he'd seen in a generation, comes to an island to recall Luke Skywalker to the Cause--and develops feelings for him? Not hero-worship, not even necessarily romantic, but sexual.

If he was going to accept that he hadn't planted the thought in her mind--and he still wasn't entirely convinced of that--then he had to admit that the feelings emanating from her now and in her/their dreams were not simply the sort of crushes he had occasionally encountered in his younger days. He'd rejected those out of hand, if gently, because it had not interested him and would have seemed improper even if it had. The starry-eyed hero-chaser, he'd managed to avoid. As he'd gotten older, his reputation had shifted from pilot and hero to Jedi Master and that had quelled some of the uncomfortable interest, though not all.

That said, what was going on here was still wildly inappropriate, and Luke was still too stubborn to imagine that he could possibly be attractive. That said, he was also too old to feel addled and flushed at her words, and yet...

"Rey, I..." He trailed off, hands spreading helplessly. "I have no idea how you want me to... to respond to this." He felt like a stupid kid again, awkward and vulnerable and confused. What did this mean? He'd thought it was so simple--he'd made a mistake, and she could either leave or let him fix it. But this... This, he had no idea what to do with.

Rey would always feel a touch of hero worship towards Luke, though now it was tempered with a healthy dose of realism. Whatever he might have been in his youth, he was just a man now, or at least, doing his very best to live as just a man. He could have done anything, been anyone, and instead of going into a life of politics or military, he'd chosen this. It made no sense to her, not from any sort of logical standpoint, but at the very least, she was able to respect it.

Maybe her feelings would have never gotten intense enough to be noticed if only Rey had had a father figure growing up. That would have helped her understand that these feelings might not have been the most appropriate, that Luke should feel more like a parent than a potential partner. But maybe it was the fact that she hadn't had that while growing up that made her want him, since she had no false conceptions of him being "too old" or "too fatherly" or too anything, except perhaps for too emotionally unavailable.

That last one might be more accurate than she'd been willing to believe, given his response. She glanced away, not so much ashamed about what she'd said as she was about the fact that she'd upset the tenuous balance of their relationship, whatever it might have been up until now. "Honestly." At first, it sounded as though that was the beginning of a statement, but then she realized that nothing else needed to be said.

"I want you to respond honestly," she told him, looking at him again and trying not to let her shame translate in her body language. She didn't want him thinking she'd regretted feeling what she felt, nor that he should regret anything, either. She just wanted them to be able to move on from this, one way or the other. "Like I said, I don't expect you to act on anything, and I'm certainly not going to-... to do anything that might make you uncomfortable. But I think we should be honest with one another, and with ourselves. That's all I want."

Honestly. Well, he could not say that she was wrong, or behaving inappropriately. She was, actually, probably being the more mature of either of them. Even if he still could not quite wrap his head around the idea that she could possibly want him. Even if that was acceptable in any conceivable way.

"You're not going to make me uncomfortable?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a fifty..." He trailed off, frowning. "Three? Four? Anyway, I'm old. I've been living alone in self-imposed exile after losing everything and you want me to respond honestly." He shook his head, a chuckle that was nearly hysterical threatening to bubble up in his throat. "This is not how I saw today going."

She blinked, a little surprised that he offered his age (or an approximation) and also realizing that, oh... he wasn't twice her age. Another few years, and it would be closer to three times her age. That was... something of a staggering difference, but again, she had no social preconceptions of just how appropriate or inappropriate such a thing could really be.

Rey didn't like that non-answer of his, nor the way he seemed to be nearing some sort of panic or hysteria or something equally undesirable, given the subject matter. But she couldn't take back what she'd said, and neither of them could un-dream what they'd dreamed. If part of that dream had been Luke's, then it was probably better to address it, even if it would result in her being forced to give Leia a very stilted version of why she hadn't brought her brother back.

"Being older than me doesn't mean you can see the future," she told him dryly, trying to bring a little levity to the conversation. After all, if he was going to laugh, she'd rather it be because of humor than because he was losing it.

"And that wasn't an answer."

Luke sighed. "No, it wasn't," he admitted. She deserved this from him. But he was desperately out of practice with what exactly else she did deserve, as well as how to express it. "Honestly? I don't know how to handle this. I've... never had to."

He risked looking at her now, unsure what he'd see. Unsure what any of this meant. But why? It wasn't as if he could possibly act on it, for any number of reasons.

"Truth be told, I'd just come to terms with the idea of you being here. I'm still terrified of speaking to you, of the wrong thing coming out. I'm terrified of what allowing anyone to get to me now, after..." He spread his hands. "I'd just started to accept that I can't stop myself from ... reaching back." He shook his head. "I just never suspected I would react like that."

He looked down at the dead fish on the ground, eyes staring. The whole thing was absurd. What did she want him to say?

Rey couldn't say what she expected from Luke, and really, she couldn't say that she expected much of anything at all. It just seemed like this weird thing between them should be confronted before things just got more and more awkward before inevitably becoming unbearable.

"I'm the last person anyone should be terrified of speaking to," she told him after a moment of not knowing what to say. "There are just two of us on this entire island, unless you count the porgs and one Wookiee who mostly keeps to himself; there's no such thing as saying the wrong thing. Or doing the wrong thing."

Especially not if that included doing some of the things that her subconscious had imagined him doing, but she quickly bypassed that before her thoughts went somewhere wholly inappropriate. You know. Again.

"Or we could say and do nothing. That's-... that's fine too, if that's what you want."

What Luke wanted and what he thought he should have were two different things. It was ludicrous, to think they could act on this. Ludicrous to think she'd want to, even if she'd had... dreams.

And no, you are NOT allowed to speculate about what she saw. He had to pull himself together. Be the man she needed him to be, if he was going to give in to her being here at all. And be an adult.

"Oh, there is," he said sadly. "Sometimes, you don't even have to say anything to change everything forever." He looked over at her pensively, and raised a hand to lay lightly on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. That this happened... the way it did. That I'm no good at interacting with people. That... I am not reacting to this very well. The truth is... I didn't know what to do with you when you got here. And I still don't. I only know... I was terrified I'd scare you away. And I suppose that means... I don't want you do go."

He felt like he was trying to breathe through water, to get that out.

Whatever the two of them might say, Rey could only hope that Luke didn't ask her to describe just what she'd seen, or what she'd felt, or what she'd wanted. She'd never even said some of those words outside of a matter-of-fact, clinical sort of way, especially since she'd never exactly had any reason to talk openly about sex or sexual feelings.

As it was, Luke still seemed to be blaming himself, and she hated the heaviness surrounding his presence. When he touched a hand to her shoulder and admitted that he didn't want her to leave, Rey couldn't bother holding back anymore, and she stepped forward to loosely wrap her arms around him in an embrace, hoping it didn't feel as awkward for him as she thought it must look from the outside.

"You're lucky I'm so stubborn," she told him, partly scolding but mostly joking as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Luke. Not without you. I would have thought I'd made that clear by now."

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