Chapter Text
For a Nubian lakeside property, Varykino has more stories to tell than walls can collect over several centuries. The story of the Naberries spanned generations, but as time twisted and expanded, Varykino became a palace of peace, a place of solace and freedom, a jewel in a vast expanse of darkness.
Varykino was a place that held secrets. It held untold stories of a love story turned sour, the origins of the galaxy’s greatest tragedy, which led to a war that lasted decades. An architect or a being of vast knowledge on Naboo’s history would never know that it is the site where war was waged and won. A war of hearts, a war of secrets, a war of worry.
But with that war came a bout of peace. The surroundings, the crystalline lake and rolling hills and kaleidoscope meadows, were the breeding grounds for armistices and vacations and a love that lasted for eternities.
Only five years had passed since the family settled in Varykino, but Luke Organa-Bridger felt a century of peace flickered before his eyes like a romantic holofilm.
He winds around the cobblestone pathway that mingles with swaying grasslands and patches of red blossoms nicknamed ‘the Queen’s Heart’ by natives.
A mauve songbird flaps past the patio in a blur. Luke blinks and steps underneath the tinted sun roof. He keys in his code to gain entry, stepping into the foyer. Two massive vases of multicolored flowers decorate both sides of the beige walls and wooden furniture. Luke suspects his daughter is responsible for the smattering of clashing colors in each cylindrical vase.
The door shuts behind him, and Threepio plods into the foyer. “Master Luke!” He stops in the open doorway to the left, where the kitchen has a glass door leading to the boundless backyard. “Master Ezra and Miss Rey are outside.”
Luke smiles; it is late afternoon and he returned home earlier than usual. “Thanks, Threepio.”
The golden protocol droid stands aside so that Luke can pass through the kitchen. He notes that packaged ingredients and spice bottles sit in a neat line on the counter in preparation for dinner. A bowl of freshly-picked fruits were on the counter as well, cutlery sitting on a hand towel after being washed.
As it always does, Luke’s heart skips at the sight. He never thought he would have a life as domestic as this, save for his job as Pooja’s advisor, so he never took these visuals for granted.
Luke slides open the glass door, shading his eyes so the mosaic tiles and glints of sunlight do not blind him temporarily. He squints and makes out the meadows preceding the glistening lake.
There is a sudden twinge in the Force. It tugs on his bond with Ezra, yanking him forward like the weaker end of a taut string.
Luke’s heartbeat stutters, and he grasps onto his bond with Ezra. The instructions lay on the string, and he follows the direction that it takes him on, to the northwest section of the property.
A herd of Shaak are gathered in a semicircle around Ezra and Rey. Without registering what was happening, Luke broke out into a jog to eat up the distance.
When he halts a few feet away, he gasps.
A young Shaak was laying on its side, trunk nose breathing in pain. Luke catches no sight of blood, but senses a break in its leg.
His five-year-old daughter is sitting criss-cross by the young Shaak’s front legs. Her lilac play clothes are matted with soil and her thick brown-blonde hair falls out of a bun, dusting her upper back. A series of flowers and herbs rests in her lap, but most were already gathered in a pattern around the wound.
And her hands lightly touch the Shaak’s leg. Her eyes are closed while she smiles, the sun sending a burst of radiance across her caramel skin.
Ezra sits a pace behind Rey in a powder blue tee and cargo pants, his mouth hanging open as he struggles to breathe normally.
Luke glides towards his husband, lowering himself to a crouch. Ezra blinks and turns towards him, registering his unexpected presence sharply.
Ezra’s wide eyes carry an expanse of dazzling cerulean nebulas painting the galaxy with shimmering wavelengths. He breathes, “are you seeing this?”
Rather than answer, Luke turns towards their daughter. Her eyes flutter open, her hair swaying from a sudden gust of wind.
She emits a giggle as the young Shaak jolts, the broken leg twitching in a sideways motion. The Shaak’s bulbous eyes fixate on Rey, then back to the spectating herd.
With the buck of its legs, the young Shaak is on its feet.
Luke’s heart seizes.
The Shaak trudges to the large herd, the whole pack sounding calls through their trunk noses. After the brief display, the young creature is ushered over the hills by the herd, retreating for the night.
Immensely troubled, Luke meets Ezra’s gaze. “How did she...has she-”
Ezra shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Luke glances over at his daughter. Rey has yet to notice Luke’s arrival as she gathers herbs and flowers into her lap.
Luke blows air out of his mouth. He keeps his voice low, out of earshot. “She’s the daughter of two powerful Force sensitives. We should have expected this to happen.”
“She’s five,” Ezra murmurs, “I thought we had more time.”
Luke frowns as Rey sets the array of flowers on the space where the young Shaak lay curled up in agony. “Me too,” he says wistfully.
Ezra says nothing. They would discuss it later.
Ezra raises his voice and sweetens his cadence. “Hey, honey! Look who’s home!”
Rey’s hair swoops as she turns. Her delicate face shines with the force of her smile.
“DADA!” She exclaims, standing in the span of a breeze and rushing to close the distance.
Rey collapses into Luke, causing him to laugh and lose his balance. His formal ivy-hued clothing is ruined by crushed grass and flower petals. He willingly tumbles to cause Rey to burst into giggles. She lays on his front as Luke’s back straightens on the grass. A wildflower tickles Luke’s cheek as he smooths away hairs from Rey’s forehead.
“Hey, baby,” Luke chuckles, thumb brushing across Rey’s smooth cheek, “good to see you too, my little ray of sunshine.”
“Dada,” she says, quieter and more commanding this time. Her face turns so her cheek rests against his chest. She listens to his heart beating, a habit she has practiced since she was a newborn.
After a moment of silence save for songbirds chirping and water flowing, Luke mumbles, “can I get up now, honey?”
Rey shifts and slides away from Luke. He sits up as Ezra stands. He offers Rey his hand, which she takes.
“Since you’re early,” Ezra says, “you can help cook.”
“Yeah!” Rey smiles brightly.
Luke grins in a wave of delirium. Despite the looming serious conversation that would have to take place that night, he learned to bask in his happiness when he was allowed it. He spent the majority of his younger years worrying about the war, so he learned not to sweat everything so much.
There would be changes to their peaceful lives on Naboo, but Luke would spend these hours delaying the eventuality without feeling guilty about it.
Luke stands, brushing grass from his formalwear. “Well,” he pats the top of Rey’s head to make her dimples crease, “lead the way, honey.”
Rey yanks Ezra and Luke by the hands towards the house. The couple laughs at her enthusiasm.
-
As soon as their bedroom door slides shut, Luke opens the closet. He hears Ezra do the same on his side of the room, and the silence festers.
Luke strips and changes into silver pajamas with his front facing the wall. Ezra rustles and shifts to procure a shirt and pajama pants.
They spent the last hour reading bedtime stories to Rey. She finally drifted to sleep when Luke glossed over her favorite story, about a teenage Duke who falls madly in love with one of his low-born waitstaff and gives up his crown to marry him. He is on the part when the lovers elope whilst in exile on a farmland when Rey succumbs to exhaustion.
Luke turns in his pajamas and peels away the duvet. He catches a flash of his husband’s backside while he smooths down a beige tee to match brown sweatpants.
Ezra turns sharply and pads over to his side of the bed. Luke lays on his side while Ezra tucks himself in, diving into the pillow. He holds out his palm expectantly.
Luke chuckles as Ezra’s long hair curtains over his lamplit face. He nearly forgot he had borrowed Ezra’s japor snippet for work; the design matched with his outfit earlier.
He slips the chain over his head and drops the beloved necklace into Ezra’s hand. Somehow, Ezra manages to clip the japor snippet over his neck while sulking.
“Babe,” Luke’s brow quirks upwards, “come on.”
“I don’t wanna do this,” Ezra muffles, “I don’t wanna have this taken from us.”
Luke blanches. It was Ezra who had to convince him that it was the right choice to make when he proposed it three years ago. Rey was a toddling and giggling little monster, knocking over anything that wasn’t nailed down. Ezra brought up the fact that Rey’s powers would be difficult to handle on their own.
‘Being together helped us from losing control,’ Ezra said, ‘I want Rey to have someone her own age she can rely on and trust.’
Luke sighed, watching Rey climb into a lounge chair. She tries to hop over to the couch where they sat, but she nearly falls between the cracks. She catches herself and retreats into the lounge chair while laughing.
‘I want that too,’ Luke murmured, ‘I just don’t want to let go of her.’
‘We won’t be,’ Ezra emphasized, ‘we’ll be on Lothal with everybody else. We’ll have more help, more knowledge, more resources. It’ll be so good for Rey to have a massive family that cares for her.’
Luke pursed his lips. He had to remember: he gave up his own desires when Rey was born. His life was Rey’s, and everything he did was for her safety and security.
He nodded to Ezra. ‘You’ve convinced me. I told you that you were Senator material.’
Ezra snorted. ‘Only in your fantasies, love.’
‘Da!’
Luke beams down at Rey. She had slipped off the lounge chair and toddled to hug his leg. ‘Wanna come up, baby?’
He lifts her into his lap, and the memory fades. Ezra is hiding his face in the pillow, unmoving and waiting for Luke to reply.
Luke reaches out and rubs Ezra’s shoulder. His hands delve towards Ezra’s thick flowing hair, forefinger brushing aside a section from his cheek. Ezra does not look, lips curved into a deep frown.
“All that’s being taken from us is Naboo,” Luke says softly. “We will always be a family.”
“It won’t be the same,” Ezra says, “nothing will.” He sighs, curling in on himself. “I should’ve known better.”
Luke moves his hand to cup Ezra’s cheek. He does not make to nudge Luke away, so his thumb catches on Ezra’s bronze cheekbone.
“We’ve been so happy,” Luke agrees, “it feels like a dream. The most beautiful dream. I don’t want to let it go, either. But,” Ezra’s glistening eyes meet Luke’s, “it’s not about us, love. You know that.”
Ezra sniffles, darting to stare down at the pillow. “That doesn’t make it any less hard. We have to tell her, and I’m not ready to do that.”
“Me neither,” Luke answers honestly, “but dreams don’t last forever, as much as we want them to.”
Ezra exhales through his wide nose, nudging Luke’s hand away. With a shocking quickness, his strong arm tosses around Luke’s middle and reels him closer.
Ezra burrows into Luke’s neck. “Hold me,” he whispers.
Luke gulps at the phrase. It sounds familiar, though Ezra has never used it before. The syllables float in his mind, an echo of a woman’s voice whispering the words to another man.
‘Hold me,’ the woman whispers into the man’s chest, ‘like you did by the lake on Naboo. So long ago when there was nothing but our love. No politics, no plotting, no war.’
He holds his breath when he knows who that voice belongs to, and Ezra shifts to face Luke.
“What?” Ezra studies Luke’s expression, thick brows furrowing. “What was that?”
Luke blinks on his drawn-out exhale. “You heard that too?”
“Yeahhhh…why wouldn’t I have?”
Luke casts his gaze downwards. He pokes around in the Force, at the memory that wasn’t his, and finds a glowing string in the tangle of the galaxy.
In fact, now that Luke was studying the star charts that mapped the known galaxy, several of these strings appeared out of nowhere. They were shining blue, a manifestation of something indescribable.
“What…” Luke breathes to himself, closing his eyes to examine the strings, “those are new.”
“What is?” Ezra shifts his head down. “Luke?”
“Something weird is going on,” Luke says, eyes widening in alarm, “you heard that voice too?”
“Yeeeees,” Ezra says confusedly, “why? What’s the matter?”
“That voice,” Luke reveals, “is my mother’s.”
Ezra narrows his eyes. “That’s not possible. We can only hear the voices of other Force users.”
“Could be,” Luke swallows, “it could be possible. I mean...it’s my mother. It’s...it’s her. And that must mean,” he worries his lip, “she was speaking to my father.”
Ezra says nothing. Whenever Anakin Skywalker or Darth Vader is mentioned, Luke’s emotions become an open wound in seconds.
Despite all the pain Anakin caused, Luke could not help but feel he failed in saving his father. His shame was unbearable.
“That could make sense,” Luke says hesitantly, “because the memory includes a Force user. Other than that,” Luke huffs, “oh, I can’t think about this anymore. We have to think about Rey.”
Ezra nods, but his expression betrays his worry. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow, alright? This was enough for one night, don’t you think?”
Luke hums, mustering a smile. “Okay.” He snuggles into Ezra’s taller form. “Good night, love.”
Ezra kisses Luke’s head. “Good night.”
Neither of them sleep very much, but neither calls the other out on the bluff.
————
Rey Organa-Bridger loves it when the Naberries come for dinner at the house. It is the only time she feels like she is a part of something bigger, something bold and beautiful. She feels like herself when she listens to Lola play her Dada’s piano, when Ryoo and Pooja teach her elaborate hairstyles, when Sola tutors her about Naboo and Jobal and Ruwee help her prepare traditional meals.
But her favorite person by far is Sabé. She answered any question that Rey had without telling her she was too young or inexperienced to know the reply. Sabé taught her how to play cards and comfort the animals so they wouldn’t be scared by the presence of a humanoid.
Tonight, though, something is different. Before the meal is ready, Papa ushers Rey into Dada’s office. Dada makes an excuse to Pooja about needing to refresh his wardrobe, which is strange, because Dada just switched into a rosy tunic.
Before Rey can ask, the office door shuts and Papa says, “sit on the couch, honey.”
“But-”
“Honey,” Dada emphasizes.
Rey closes her mouth and pads to the couch near Dada’s desk. She clamors on the cushion and Papa sits, gathering her close. Dada kneels before them, his expression wary.
“Rey,” Dada clears his throat, “we wanted you to know something before anyone else. It’s very important that you don’t tell them before we do, okay?”
Dada looks serious. It upsets Rey, so she nods.
“Okay,” Dada glances up at Papa, “am I doing this alone?”
Papa shifts so Rey is partially on his lap. Used to the affection, Rey hugs his middle.
“Baby,” Papa tips his head down and brushes away Rey’s hair so she sees his face, “Dada and I have decided that we’re moving away.”
“Moving,” Rey sounds out, “where? A new house?”
Papa shakes his head. “No, honey. Off-planet.”
“NO!” Rey is wracked with the image of her entire world being taken away. She wrenches away from Papa and curls up on the opposite side of the couch. “No!” She hugs a pillow and buries her face into it. “I’m not leaving!”
There is silence. Rey knows that her parents are staring, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care if she screams and shouts and makes a scene.
Her parents want to take her away! She wasn’t going to see anyone ever again! No more Sabé, no more aunties, no more cousins. Nothing!
“This isn’t the end, Rey,” Dada murmurs, shuffling over to kneel beside her, “you can talk to everyone here whenever you want, okay?”
Rey sniffles into the pillow.
“Honey,” Papa’s hand comes to rub her back, “we’re going to stay with the rest of our family on Lothal. You’ll be the farthest thing from alone. You remember your family, right?”
Rey remembers some of them. She has an Aunt Leia who stayed here after her cousin Ben was born. She has Ahsoka who always brought her a gift: a tooka doll, a beaded necklace, a conch shell from her home planet. She has two older cousins, Poe and Jacen, and a slew of aunts and uncles. But she can’t put faces to every name, as they appeared in scattered vacations throughout her life.
“Honey,” Papa says, fixing her messy hair while she uncoiled from the pillow, “I know you’re scared and angry and upset. You have a right to be. All we can say for now is…”
He stops. Rey blinks so she won’t burst out crying. She drops the pillow and swivels to observe her parents looking at each other.
Dada turns to Rey. “Do you remember when you healed the Shaak yesterday, baby?”
Rey bobs her head.
“Well,” Dada holds her hands on the couch cushion as he peers up, “not everyone can do that. You’re a very special girl, with very special powers.”
“Powers,” Rey sounds out the word.
“Yes,” Dada smiles, “our family has a lot of special beings. Those of us with powers help those who do not. Does that make sense?”
Rey thinks it does.
“But in order to help,” Dada says gently, “we have to practice, train, and control our powers. You were able to heal the Shaak, and that was wonderful, but,” he pauses, “did you feel...a little weird, afterwards?”
“I was tired,” Rey admits, fearing it is the wrong answer.
“Tired,” Papa scoots closer to Rey on the couch, “that’s normal, honey. It’s fine. Why didn’t you say?”
Rey mumbles, “I dunno.”
“Baby,” Dada gains her attention, “as proud of you as I was at seeing you heal the Shaak, I don’t want you to get tired. You can hurt yourself, and I never want that to happen, okay?”
Rey wants to ask how she could hurt herself, but it isn’t the time. Her Dada and Papa are in as much pain as she is, and she doesn’t want to add to it.
“Okay,” Rey says.
“Okay,” Papa gathers Rey into a hug, squishing her tight to make her giggle, “my baby girl, for being so good, is getting extra dessert.”
Rey emits a cheery tone as Papa kisses the top of her head. She almost forgets about them moving.
Almost.
————
Ezra Bridger-Organa is a spectre as he listens to the business talks that trail through Varykino. Even from the backyard, where Ezra tries to escape the noise with Rey, the discussions carry through the glass and float into the summer breeze. Even from their bedroom, where Ezra reads Rey her favorite story, it does not drown out the terse arguments.
Ezra didn’t expect the Naberries to take this so hard. He really didn’t.
“...and the waiter does as he is told. He serves food to all the royals in all the lands,” Ezra reads to distract himself, Rey smiling to encourage him onwards, “and, as the Duke requested, he waits for the party to be over. He waits all night while the Duke greets all those who came to see him and wish him well. He waits until all the guests go to their palaces. He waits until all the other waiters are dismissed. He waits until the Duke emerges from his room and runs to him.”
This is the part that always made Ezra’s eyes glaze over. This is the part that reminds him of a long-gone past. The Force told him he should not fester in these places, but the story made them unavoidable.
“The waiter sinks into the Duke’s embrace,” Ezra recounts gently. “The waiter smiles and says, ‘I was worried you would never come.’ And the Duke replies, ‘I will always come back to you.’”
A lump forms in Ezra’s throat. No matter how many times he read this aloud to Rey, every line hurt. Every word cut like glass. Every page ripped out a piece of his heart like stripping away bark from a tree.
This story was old. Centuries old. It doesn’t make sense how similar it is to the real life love story of Luke Organa and Ezra Bridger, but he supposes it is more than just a tall tale.
Ezra senses Luke is disgruntled, his mind a web of complex thoughts. He looks over at Rey, who blinks as if in understanding.
“Papa,” Rey asks, “is that Dada?”
Ezra’s breaths become shallow. “Yes,” he exhales, “yes it is, honey.”
He ducks his head to conceal the emotions brewing behind his eyes. He has no idea how the Force comes to Rey so easily, but he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to discover the root cause.
He closes the worn book and sets it down. He splays out his palms on the carpet and pushes himself to his feet. “Stay here, Rey. Finish the book yourself.”
Rey frowns at the order, but acquiesces by bringing the book closer to her on the carpet. She flips open the page where Ezra left off as he exits the bedroom.
He walks through hallways and rooms until he can hear them.
“-nothing I can do that will change your mind?” Ryoo asks.
“Ryoo,” Pooja sighs, “he seems pretty set on leaving. You’re making him feel terrible.”
Ezra stands in an open archway designating the sitting room. Luke is dressed impeccably as always, a white cape encapsulating his navy-hued formalwear. His silver wedding ring, a tradition where both exchanged old metal from their lightsaber hilts, shone brightly on his finger.
Even thinking about their ten-year anniversary last week was a lifetime ago…
Ezra crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the archway. The set in Luke’s jaw is tight, his lips pressed together so he did not say anything rash.
As strong as they both were in the Force, as much control as they had over their abilities, it did not mean Luke was impervious to the emotion known as anger. It ran in his blood, and stifling its course would worsen the conditions.
“How about this,” Pooja sits beside Luke, “you become my ambassador.”
Luke’s mind reels behind his eyes. He peers over Pooja’s side.
He asks Ezra, “what do you think?”
Pooja and Ryoo bristle, swiveling towards Ezra. They had not heard him approach, but Luke always knew when he was close without giving an indication through body language.
As for the job offer, Ezra could register the perks and restrictions. Luke wouldn’t mope around on Lothal, leaving Ezra to take on his job as a Jedi instructor without worrying over his husband.
The major problem, however, would be the travel aspect. But Ezra is sure Luke will negotiate to remain on Lothal with his family whenever possible.
Considering this option, Ezra answers, “it would be good for you.”
Luke inhales sharply at the reply. “What?”
“See?” Ryoo gestures to Ezra and smirks. “Your shrewd husband understands.”
“However,” Ezra emphasizes, causing Ryoo to pause, “I won’t give him up for long periods of time. I’m not doing that to Rey.”
Ryoo looks at her sister, who nods.
“Agreed,” Pooja says to Ezra, “we’ll go over parameters in the contract.”
“So?” Ryoo smiles hopefully at Luke. “Does it sound good?”
Luke stares at Ezra, who sends him encouragement and mutual agreement through their Force bond.
He is not satisfied, however. He opens their mental link.
‘Darling,’ Luke says to Ezra’s mind, ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
Ezra frowns. ‘You’ll go mad on Lothal if you don’t work.’
‘I can teach,’ Luke points out.
‘Yes,’ Ezra murmurs, ‘but I have never seen you more happy being Pooja’s advisor.’
Luke pauses as he tilts his head. ‘This will be higher stakes.’
‘I’m sure you’ll handle it.’ Ezra implores, ‘they need your help. They wouldn’t fight you on this if they didn’t realize your talent.’
He knows he has Luke now.
Luke turns to address Pooja and Ryoo. “I’ll do it.”
Ezra pads back towards Rey as Pooja and Ryoo thank Luke profusely and discuss terms.