Chapter Text
Home had never been this close. It was Luke’s thoughts as he struggled through the snowstorm, holding something small, fragile, close to his chest. It had been over a year and a half since he had left. Since he had disappeared. He was returning with a heavy heart, so much had happened.
He had changed and he knew what returning home meant. Luke could only hope for his family’s understanding. Ever since he decided to return home, he had thought about the reactions of the members of his family. He thought about how he would justify himself. What he would say. What he would do .
His father was going to be furious and Luke winced as he imagined that particular welcome. In a single letter, in a single action, he knew the hurt and confusion he had caused the patriarch of House Stark. He knew his mother would probably never let him go again, but she would understand, Luke knew that. They were very much alike. Leia had… Well, he’d never told her, but he knew she suspected. They were twins, some things couldn’t be hidden from each other.
Had she married while he’d been gone? When he’d left, she’d been fending off suitors left and right, doing her best to make sure only the most dedicated stayed. Then there was Jinn, and the younger set of twins, Amidala and Shmi… Jinn might understand but the twins had still been repulsed by any mention of this sort of thing when Luke had left.
At his side, Artoo sniffed the air and his tail began to wag.
“We’re close, aren’t we, boy?” Luke asked, a timid smile on his lips.The direwolf yapped, and in the distance, a cluster of familiar howls began to rise. The only other direwolves known in the North. Winterfell was close.
As he trekked through the snow, the forest began to clear, and he could see the field that housed his family’s seat. It looked just like he’d remembered, and the sight of it nearly broke his heart as a conversation long forgotten began to rise in his mind.
It’s a fancy stone house, but it’s a prison, Luke Stark. You can call us wildlings, but we’re the Free Folk. We’re not bound to anything but the people we choose.
“This is what we have to choose,” he mumbled to himself, nearly losing his footing as he took another step and almost wrenched his ankle out of place. Artoo stopped and looked at him for a moment before bending down. Nineteen years had made him big enough that he could carry a human on his back, though not for very long. Luke climbed on carefully and gratefully. “Thank you.” The direwolf sniffed in response and started bounding across the field, howling as they got closer and closer to his pack.
“Who goes there?” One of the poor sentries tasked with the watch shouted.
As Artoo came to a halt, Luke spoke out, “Luke. Luke Stark. I’ve come home.” There was a moment where the only sounds were the howls of the wind and the wolves, and then the portcullis rose and the gates opened. Luke climbed off Artoo’s back as carefully as he’d gotten on, still clutching the precious burden in his arms. The four other direwolves practically charged at him, sniffing and growling, though without hostility. “It’s me,” he promised, looking at each of them in turn. “I missed you too.”
Artoo nipped at Threepio’s ear, yapping playfully as the gold-speckled wolf whined in protest. Artoo wiggled his tail happily, barking at his twin, jumping around him and Threepio scoffed, looking very judgemental.
“LUKE!” He heard the three voices of his sisters coming from the balcony of the keep, Amidala and Shmi practically fighting each other to get down the stairs to him first while Leia took a more dignified pace.
“Look who got taller,” Luke beamed at his little sisters, as they rushed towards him. “Careful, careful, girls,” he warned as he saw them ready to charge at him with all their might.
“Where’s Mara?” Leia asked, cutting straight to the point as she approached him while the younger set of twins grabbed onto Luke by the waist, hugging him tightly.
His blue eyes immediately saddened as he looked down at the bundle in his arms. “Gone,” he whispered.
Promise me, Luke Stark.
“I’m sorry,” Leia said, the angular features she’d inherited from their father softening a bit. “Truly.”
“Thank you,” Luke nodded, smiling at his sister even though his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “She didn’t leave me alone, though,” he whispered as a small whimper came from his arms. “Do you all want to meet your nephew?”
“Yes!” The twins chorused. Leia smiled briefly, but then her lips pursed as she took in the sight of the red-haired infant her brother was holding.
“You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
“I know,” Luke said as he allowed his younger sisters to fawn over the baby boy. “Can I see Mother or Grandmother first?”
“They’re with him. And Jinn.” Leia’s face darkened. “Father’s been teaching him to be your replacement.”
“I thought as much. Would it be pushing the boundaries if I asked you to get Mother, please? I… Ben, he… I will speak with Father, but after I know Ben is being taken care of. It has been a long journey, he must be hungry and I don’t want him to be sick.”
His sister’s eyes narrowed, but she sighed. “I’ll get Grandmother. You’ll want Mother there when you speak to Father, she’ll be more likely to take your side.”
They’d known since they were old enough to understand that while their parents deeply loved each other, the one thing they always disagreed on was Luke’s unofficial betrothal to Princess Winter, the betrothal Luke had blatantly flouted by eloping with a wildling servant girl. “Leia—”
“I know why you did it. But that changes nothing. You might as well have been dead , leaving like that,” she sighed. “Come inside before we all catch our death.”
As they headed inside the Keep and Leia went ahead, Luke started to feel nervous and anxious. He thought he could do this, he had to do this. Coming back home was all he had left after the wildlings excluded him after Mara’s death. He saw himself alone, with a small, motherless child in his arms and no one to support him. Mara had no family but the tribe that deserted him and the baby, but Luke… he had family. He had Winterfell.
“You’re not leaving again, are you, Luke?” Shmi asked in a small voice. “We missed you.”
“I hope not,” Luke answered. “I’ve missed you all as well.”
“Did you fight giants?” Ami asked with a savage gleam in her eyes. “Or Krakens?”
“Nothing quite adventurous, little one,” her older brother chuckled.
“Did you have any adventures?”
“I learned how the Free Folk are married,” he offered. “I lived with them while I was gone.”
“Could someone tell me why the wolves were howling?” the unfamiliar voice of a man maybe ten years older came from down the corridor.
“That’s Han,” Shmi informed Luke in a staged whisper. “He wants to marry Leia.”
“He’s the only one of her suitors left,” Ami whispered with a smirk. “Everyone has bets on how long he’ll last. Papa hates him.”
Han rounded the corner and Luke was surprised to see that he was a reasonably handsome, if a bit scruffy-looking, man, dressed in simpler clothes than most noble houses, the sword at his hip the only indication that he wasn’t one of the smallfolk. “Oh,” Han hesitated, looking at Luke from top to bottom. “You must be the other twin, Luke,” he tilted his head. “So, the prodigal son returns.”
“Think of it this way, Han,” Ami offered. “You won’t be Papa’s least favorite person any longer.”
“I thought you’d be taller,” Han remarked as he approached, extending a hand. “Ser Han Solo of Coldwater Burn.”
“I hear you are courting my sister, Ser Han,” Luke started, shifting Ben so that he could grasp Han by the forearm. “You must be completely insane. I am very happy to make your acquaintance.”
“I’m pleased to know you exist. Part of me thought you might be a ghost.” For the first time, Han’s hazel eyes landed on Ben. “I won’t even ask who that is.”
“My son and should you survive your courting, your future nephew,” Luke quipped.
“You keep talking as if your sister’s going to feed me to her wolf.”
“You are acting like she already discarded that option,” Ami quipped amusedly. “Threepio’s picky, but Twilight and Dawn aren’t.”
“The real madman will be whoever marries her ,” Han whispered, pointing at Ami and shaking his head as he went back the way he’d come.
“Luke?”
“Grandmother,” he whispered, smiling at her softly, eyes bright as all his body told him to do was rush to her and give her a strong, long hug, but he didn’t want to crush little Ben. “Hello.”
“Oh, thank the gods you’re alive,” she gasped, hurrying to him and then taking a step back as she saw the bundle he was holding. “Leia told me, but I didn’t believe her… He’s beautiful.”
“He might be hungry, even though he is a good baby and is not complaining too much,” he whispered sadly. “We ran out of food a few days ago and I… I couldn’t find anything in the snowstorm. Can you take care of him, please, while I speak with mother and father?”
“Of course.” His grandmother beamed as she carefully took the baby from him. “What did you name him?”
“Ben,” he replied, leaning down to kiss the baby’s forehead. “Thank you, grandmother. I really missed you, you know?”
“We all missed you too,” she sighed wistfully. “I’m glad you’re safely home.” There was a long pause before she told him what he didn’t have the courage to ask. “Your parents are in your father’s study.”
“Any advice before I go up?” Luke asked weakly.
“Grovel,” his grandmother said bluntly. “And hope your mother can win him over.”
Luke lowered his head and nodded, his empty stomach twisting itself into knots. The walk to his father’s study felt like a march to his execution, or at least his trial. Not having Ben in his arms was both a comfort and a source of anxiety. At least Ben wouldn’t have to hear his grandfather raging. But the lack of familiar warmth and weight of his son in his arms made Luke feel untethered.
Jinn was waiting outside the door for him, his expression just as grim as Leia’s had been. “I’m glad you’re not dead,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
“I’m going to wish I was when I enter the study, aren’t I?” Luke said quietly, eyes drifting to the door as if an execution waited for him.
“Why did you come back?” Jinn prodded gently. “What do you plan to do?”
“Whatever they feel I need to do to stay home,” Luke said defeatedly. “I returned for the sake of my son. To make sure he lives, that he has a proper education.”
“And if that means you’ll be marrying Princess Winter?”
“I’ll do it if she accepts our betrothal again. If the King forgives my earlier foolishness,” Luke said, sounding like he had a speech prepared. “Jinn, Winterfell is all I have left and is all I can give my son. I’ll do whatever’s necessary for him.”
“Better you than me,” his brother mumbled under his breath. “Go in. Good luck.”
Luke took a deep breath and placed a hand on the door before making a face and pushing it back, entering his father’s study, where he could immediately feel the tension. He closed the door behind him and stood, frozen, by it, eyes glancing between the neutral, cold expression of his aging father behind the desk and the natural, effortless beauty of his mother.
He was going to open his mouth to say something but his father was faster. “Why did you return?” And definitely, much colder than the snow he had to brave through during his journey home.
“Anakin,” his mother spoke softly, warningly. “Can’t we be glad he is home?”
“If you want to coddle him, it’s your business. I, however, want answers and I want them now,” Anakin stated calmly, his expression unchanged, barely glancing at his wife.
“I came back because I made a mistake,” Luke blurted, taking a couple of steps forward. “I shouldn’t have run away with Mara, we should have stayed and told you the truth. It was stupid and reckless, and we regretted it as soon as I left, but we knew we couldn’t come back. I wouldn’t be here at all, except,” he swallowed, tears stinging in the corners of his eyes. “Except I lost Mara when she gave birth to our son. And she made me promise that I’d keep him safe. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, Father, just, please, please—”
“The moment you crossed the gates with that wildling woman, you left Winterfell and us behind. It was not just a mistake you did, Luke, you threw away your life for a fling that you called love,” Anakin was unbothered by his son’s emotions. Anger and hurt lacing his tone. “How did you think the King reacted when I had to write to him what his daughter’s betrothed had done? You almost made us go to war with the Targaryens, Luke!”
“What happened to being able to refuse if we didn’t love each other?” Luke shot back and his mother’s expression could only be interpreted as ‘I told you so.’
“ You are not in a position to talk back to me,” Anakin’s voice lowered dangerously, completely ignoring his wife’s presence, slowly standing up from where he was sitting, supporting his hands on the wooden desk. “The refusal was an option if it had been done officially. Honorably. After your courting of Winter. I don’t think you running away in the middle of the night with a wildling accounts for that certain agreement between me and the King,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now, I’ll repeat my earlier question, but with more context. Why have you returned after you dragged the Stark name through the mud and brought shame to our family? Did you think we would forgive and forget? ‘Here’s my bastard son, please raise him even though I turned my back on all of you?’ ”
“He’s not a bastard!”
“You have no evidence of your marriage to that woman. In the eyes of the realm’s laws, he is a bastard. A Snow,” Anakin narrowed his eyes.
“I came back to make things right. Whatever way I could.”
“Because you think Princess Winter will accept you back after you humiliated her and especially with a bastard son on your arms. The King is going to love reading that letter I once again will have to write to him.”
“Anakin,” Padmé spoke up again. “He was seventeen. Everyone does reckless things at that age, surely it is better that he recognizes the mistakes therein and is taking responsibility for them?”
“ Everyone is not a Stark with a betrothal to the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,” Anakin snapped at her, before turning to Luke once more. “If you had wanted to break the arrangement, you could have courted her, you could have spoken with the Princess and you could have refused, properly, like a gentleman. With honor. Even if the Targaryens accepted you, how would anyone in the realm accept you as a Consort after you intentionally joined the wildlings?” Anakin leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t know, but I will make it happen somehow,” protested Luke, sinking to his knees. “Father, please. I’m begging you. Punish me for this all you want, however you want, but please, don’t make Ben suffer for my choices the way Grandfather’s wife made you suffer for his.”
“I want you to get out of my sight,” Anakin sat back down, scowling. “You can use the guest house to stay with the child, for now, while we wait for the King’s response. For your sake, you better stay on your knees and pray he doesn’t find a way to accuse you of treason. Depending on his answer, I will make my decision on what to do with you.”
“Yes, Father,” Luke swallowed nervously, afraid to move a muscle until he felt the light touch of his mother’s hand on his back.
“I’ll get the servants to move the things from your old room into the guest house for now,” she said, helping him to his feet. “And see about getting some food into you. When did you last eat?”
“I don’t remember,” Luke answered quietly, and his mother gasped in horror.
“We’ll fix that immediately.” She looked over her shoulder at his father. “My Lord.” Luke gulped and Anakin’s eyes narrowed. Mother calling Father My Lord was never a good sign. It was how she put distance between the two of them on the rare occasion that they were fighting.
Anakin didn’t respond, glowering at both of them until they left the study and he was alone. As the door closed, Padmé wrapped an arm tightly around her firstborn’s shoulders. “We can only pray he calms with time, Luke. I warned him of the dangers of the arrangement he made with the King, but he has never listened to me. All we can do is wait. But I also would suggest that you prepare a letter of your own tonight, to send to Winter.”
“I thought about it. I would like to tell her the whole story, for her to understand me,” Luke nodded, pausing. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”
“He could never truly hate you,” Padmé reassured him. “He’s angry. Heartbroken, even, since you left, he’s thought about little else since then. But I believe, with time, he’ll come around.” She tried to smile just a little. “And I am looking forward to meeting my first grandchild, whether or not he’s considered a bastard. You named him for your uncle?”
“Don’t tell father, but he helped Mara and me after our escape,” he tried to smile back, but it failed, his worry and tiredness winning him over. “I missed you so much, mother,” Luke wrapped his arms around her and set his head on her shoulder, finally letting a few tears run free down his cheeks.
“Shhh,” she held him tightly and rocked him gently. “It will be alright, son, you’ll see. Just… give it time.”
“You were too hard on him.”
“What did you expect after what he’s done?” Anakin asked coldly, staring at the fire as he nursed a large drink. “Pat him on the back and say ‘well done, you’ve ruined your life but welcome home’?” He scoffed and took a sip of it.
“It’s what your father would have done,” Padmé replied coldly, removing the robe that covered her black nightgown and settling into bed
“Don’t speak about my father like you knew him better than me. My father was a good man, but he didn’t tolerate certain attitudes. When it came to protecting House Stark, he was relentless.”
“What would you have preferred? That he spurned Princess Winter outright and married Mara here in the godswood?” she retorted. “Or perhaps that he accepted the betrothal and brought his wildling mistress with him to King’s Landing?”
“I would have preferred he had done things honorably, instead of being a coward,” Anakin replied. “He comes back, two years later, and thinks everything remains the same as he left? If he was enough of an adult to run away and have a child, he is enough of an adult to accept the consequences of his actions, no matter what they are.”
“He doesn’t think things are the same! He came back to face those consequences, and you’re too engrossed in your own anger to realize it!” Padmé argued.
“Make me the villain of this story all you want, but it doesn’t eliminate the fact that your son screwed up,” Anakin snapped. “One thing is for certain, if the King does not accept the betrothal renewal, I don’t want him in Winterfell. His stay here is temporary and you better accept that and start preparing him for it. This is no longer his home, not after what he’s done to House Stark, and he will be disowned,” he stood brusquely before she could speak. “Don’t bother getting up, I’m the one moving to another chamber,” he left the room, slamming the door on his way out and his heavy and angry footsteps could be heard all through the Keep.
Padmé debated going after him, then thought better of it, sighing heavily. It might be in her best interest to send a few ravens of her own. One to the King on Luke’s behalf, and another to Highgarden.
Her husband could talk about the honor of House Stark all he wanted, but her first priority would always be the happiness of her children. If Anakin made good on his threats, she would not let Luke be left without any support.