Chapter Text
Luke looked disparagingly at his new home. Maybe it had once been a grand house like the advertisements had claimed, but now it was dilapidated, with peeling paint and shabby finishings that even the waning light of the late afternoon couldn’t hide.
One look from Uncle Owen, and the complaint died on his tongue. He was not in the mood to get lectured again for being ungrateful.
A sudden movement caught his eye, and he turned just in time to see a small black cat preening along the porch railing.
‘Get away with you!’ Owen snapped, shooing the cat away with his hands. ‘The last thing we need are strays hanging around.’
Privately, Luke thought the cat looked too well groomed to be a stray, but he said nothing. He and the cat locked eyes for one eerie second, as if it was sizing him up, before it slunk away into the bushes.
‘I know it doesn’t look like much right now, Luke, but soon it’ll be as good as new. And we’ll have a lot of fun trying to fix it up together.’
‘Don’t go giving the boy false hope Beru. We won’t have time to waste redecorating, you and I are far too busy,’ Owen grunted, shouldering the door open and yelling at the removal men who’d left boxes in the way.
She caught sight of Luke’s expression.
‘Don’t mind your uncle, you know how he gets when he’s stressed. This will soon be a real home for the three of us- you’ll see.’
But Luke didn’t see. He didn’t see why his aunt and uncle had decided to uproot their lives from everything he knew and loved. Tatooine might have been a crappy dustball of a town, but at least it was his dustball. He and Biggs had grown up there together, and knew every inch of the streets, the desert wasteland that stretched behind the rows of houses where the womprats would roam, the canyons and valleys that they would race through at breakneck speed on their bikes.
This new area was practically in the middle of nowhere, quiet and well-to-do, full of old people with the same stories to tell. Their house was nestled in the heart of a deep valley, surrounded by towering trees. The most interesting thing he’d found online about the place was that there was supposedly an ancient old well hidden somewhere in the woods. If he were still in Tatooine, he and Biggs would have made an adventure of it, planning an intrepid quest to find the well, but his heart wasn’t in it now that he’d had to leave Biggs behind. He was the sibling Luke had never had, and he couldn’t even text him- Uncle Owen didn’t believe in teenagers owning their own phones- so he had to wait a full three weeks before he could see him again.
What if he’s made new friends by then? Luke’s insecurities whispered.
Don’t be stupid. We’re best friends; there’s no way he would forget me.
But the thought gnawed at him as he crossed the threshold into the Lars’ new residence for the first time.
………..
Beru had always told him that only boring people got bored, but it didn’t change the fact that he was. They were both so busy with their work, they had barely started to unpack; the floor was littered with cardboard boxes, invoices, and piles of bubble wrap. Trying to resist the childish urge to pop it, Luke had offered to start unloading the boxes but had been shut down by Uncle Owen:
‘Get away from those, there are breakables in there.’
Then he had asked if he could call on their new neighbours, but Aunt Beru had said firmly:
‘Don’t go bothering them at this hour, Luke. There’ll be plenty of time to get to know them over the next few days.’
So, he had attempted to busy himself with exploring; the house was big enough to warrant an exploration after all. The basement and attic were both locked, and the other rooms were airy and large, several pieces of dark furniture having been left by the previous owners. Perhaps they’d been there ever since the house was built. But all he found of note besides a few dead bluebottles and copious amounts of dust was a small piece of graffiti by the living room fireplace that someone had tried and failed to paint over.
‘Who do you reckon ‘A’ and ‘P’ were?’ he asked his aunt, who was sighing over the internet connection again while trying to get her laptop to work.
‘Stop bothering your aunt, can’t you see she’s busy?’ Uncle Owen snapped as he typed furiously, the cuckoo clock above his head striking 7pm.
‘But I’m not doing anythi-’
‘Don’t talk back to me! I always said you’d been spending too much time with those wastrels at the station, and I was right. You need to learn some discipline, and now we’ve moved out here, you won’t be distracted by them anymore. You need to knuckle down and start thinking about what you’re going to do with your life-’
‘Biggs isn’t a wastrel! He’s my friend, and I’m going to be a pilot just like him!’
‘Fighting in some ill-conceived war isn’t something to be proud of Luke! And I’ll be damned if you think we’re going to let you follow him on this foolish crusade-’
‘It’s not foolish, my father was the bravest pilot of his squadron-’
‘Yes, and look where that got him,’ his uncle said shortly.
‘You know nothing about my father!’ Luke cried, tears in his eyes.
‘I know more than you do! Your father was reckless, running off into battle and not caring about the consequences for his family-’
He was cut off by an enormous crash as the clock suddenly teetered forwards and smashed onto the table, missing his head by millimetres. The cuckoo wheezed one last time before its broken neck lolled to the side.
Mouths open with shock, his aunt and uncle stared at the shattered remains of the clock, then turned their gazes towards Luke.
Run.
Grabbing his yellow anorak from the banister, he shoved through the door and didn’t bother to stop it hitting the wall as he fled, ignoring his uncle’s angry cry.
It was raining torrentially, darkness now creeping in at the edge of the amber sky, and for a split second he considered going back inside to the warmth and Uncle Owen’s wrath.
But his pride- or as his uncle called it, his Skywalker stubbornness- kept him marching forwards into the gloom.
He stomped angrily up the well-worn trail into the hills, ascending higher and higher until the house was a tiny pale speck through the trees, muttering to himself as he went.
‘I wasn’t even bothering her…it’s only him that ever has a problem with me…too much of a coward to come out and say it…’
He plucked a Y shaped twig from the soggy ground, remembering a strange programme he’d seen about dowsing when he was a child before his uncle had irritably turned it off. Maybe it would help him find the well. It wasn’t like he currently had anything better to do. He would have to let his guardians calm down before he returned home.
That wasn’t the first-time unexplainable things had happened when Luke was around. In fact, the older he got, the more frequent these events became. They always seemed to accompany bursts of extreme emotion in Luke, whether it was elation or anger. At first his aunt and uncle had chalked it down to strange coincidence, but it had reached the point where none of the trio could deny the truth of what was going on: Luke, with his ambiguous powers, was the very opposite of normal.
It was hardly his fault. He’d been born this way. Ever since he was a baby, he had been markedly different from the other children his age. Biggs was the only one who knew about Luke’s powers, and was sworn to secrecy. But whilst Biggs thought Luke’s abilities were cool and something to be admired, his aunt and uncle were wary, and sometimes treated him like a bomb that was imminently going to explode.
The question in Luke’s mind was why? If they were so scared of him and the potential of his powers, why didn’t they just let him go? They should be happy he was so desperate to leave, to become a pilot like his father. But instead he felt both abandoned and suffocated in turn- smothered by their stern over-protectiveness, and isolated by their fear of his powers.
The rain was almost horizontal now, and he pulled his coat tighter around his shivering frame. He had no clue where he was going. All he knew was he’d been walking for about forty minutes, give or take- his watch hadn’t worked properly since an unfortunate incident back in Tatooine. The lights from the small residential area were now virtually non-existent, and he blinked rapidly in the darkness as if this would help his sight.
Not for the first time, he wished his parents were still alive. He knew they would understand him, would nurture his powers and his ambitions, would do anything they could to make his dreams come true. They wouldn’t make him feel like an annoyance or a freak of nature. They would love him unconditionally.
Furiously he kicked at the pile of leaves, only to howl in pain as he was flung back onto the muddy soil by some tremendous force.
Shaken and confused, he sat up slowly, massaging his lower back.
What the hell had that been?
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a blinding beam of light came spiralling out of the murk towards him at breakneck speed.
‘Hey, stop-!’
His imagination was pacing feverishly- maybe it was a headless horseman come to seek revenge on his traitorous hunting party? Or an ancient lagoon monster, scurrying up from the depths of the trickling river and ready to eat him alive-
Disorientated and scrambling back on his hands and knees, it took Luke a few moments to realise he was staring at a remarkably ordinary boy riding a bicycle rather than a bogeyman. Peering up through his fringe which was plastered to his forehead, Luke could make out his dark hair and blue eyes by the bright glow of the bicycle lamp.
‘Alright, Sunshine?’
Luke screwed up his face.
‘Sunshine?’
The boy gestured at his bright yellow coat as though it should be obvious.
‘Don’t tell me I’m the first person to call you that. You’re the new kid, aren’t you? Luke Lars? I’m Ezra. Ezra Bridger’.
Luke didn’t bother to correct him as he pulled himself up from the ground.
‘How do you know me?’
‘I’m your new neighbour. Well, sort of- I live in the apartment block opposite.’
Ezra peered at Luke curiously.
‘You’re not from around here, are you?’
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Yep,’ Ezra smiled goofily. ‘For a start, you’re out alone in the dark with nothing but a makeshift dowsing rod, so you’re probably from somewhere dry and barren and light. Jakku, right?’
‘Tatooine.’
Ezra grimaced.
‘Wow, you had it rough.’
‘I’d take Tatooine over this dump any day! There’s nothing here except dust mites and the creepiest forest I’ve ever seen.’
‘Can’t say you’re wrong, but the woods are a lot prettier in the daytime. I’m usually the only one crazy enough to go wandering out here in the dark. Well, me and Han. He lives in the same building as me, so that makes him your neighbour too-’
‘Oh joy, there’s two of you’ Luke muttered.
‘-and you should be thankful I got here in time, otherwise you’d be stuck at the bottom of the well right now.’
Ezra shone his bike torch at the ground, and Luke saw clearly the ground he’d just been about to step on before he’d been propelled backwards. The leaves had shrouded the edge of an ancient looking hole, covered with a flimsy piece of weather-beaten wood.
‘Seems your dowsing rod worked a bit too well there,’ Ezra laughed. ‘If you trod too hard, you’d fall in! It’s supposed to be so deep you could fall right to the bottom and see a sky full of stars when you looked up, even in the middle of the day.’
Luke raised his eyebrows.
‘I would’ve been fine. My aunt and uncle would have come looking for me.’
Eventually.
‘The same aunt and uncle that let you wander out by yourself in the dark?’
‘I’m not a kid, I can look after myself,’ Luke scoffed. ‘We had an argument, I walked out. End of story.’
‘But even so, they could have gone after you. You don’t know this area at all; you could have got lost or hurt. Surely they must care a little?’
The words hit a raw nerve, and Luke turned away.
‘Hey, I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing to say.’
‘Yeah, it was.’
Luke tried to tug his arm out of Ezra’s grip, but he clung on.
‘I know more than you’d think about difficult families. My parents are dead too.’
Luke stopped struggling.
‘How do you know my parents are dead?’
‘Oh, there wasn’t much to go on, just the fact that you live with your aunt and uncle, you don’t get on, there’s clearly some deep-seated issues there, et cetera. Plus, you have that angsty orphan vibe going on- you don’t need to look so offended! I can only tell because I have the same vibe.’
‘Why are you saying that like it’s a good thing?’
Ezra grinned.
‘Okay, I admit that wasn’t as reassuring as I wanted it to be.’
Luke rolled his eyes, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. Ezra settled next to him, his face turning suddenly sombre.
‘They died when I was a baby. I have no memory of them.’
‘Same here. Who do you live with then?’
‘My aunt- though she’s not really my aunt. She was a friend of my parents and took me in when no one else wanted me.’
‘Do you get on with her? Mine is nice, but my uncle is really strict. He doesn’t even let me have my own phone.’
Ezra made a face.
‘She’s disciplined, sure, but not that strict. We argue sometimes, like all families do, but I know she loves me.’
Luke envied his breezy certainty. He was sure that Uncle Owen cursed the day Luke had been dumped on their doorstep as a days-old infant, and he told Ezra as much.
‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. It’s not like they left you behind when they moved,’ Ezra joked. Luke smiled weakly. He was starting to wish they had.
‘EZRA!!’
The yell carried up into the valley, worry echoing off the rocky crevices and spindly trees.
‘Shit,’ Ezra muttered, jumping up and grabbing his bike where it lay sprawled in the leaves, ‘That’s my aunt. I’ve got to go.’
Luke watched him mount the bike, feeling the smallest bit of envy over a guardian who was actually concerned about Ezra’s whereabouts.
‘I’ll see you around then?’
‘Sure thing. Also, heads up- that dowsing rod of yours? It’s poison oak, so you might want to put it down.’
Luke dropped the twig like it was on fire, and Ezra smirked.
‘Catch you later, Sunshine!’
He sped off back down the hill before Luke could protest. The realisation that it was now totally pitch black was not lost on him, and he too turned to leave-
A pair of luminous eyes blinked at him from the darkness.
Fear seized at Luke’s heart.
He froze.
‘Meowww’.
A flick of a tail and the soft pitter patter of velvet paws made him sigh in relief.
‘Oh. It’s just you. What are you doing all the way up here anyway?’
The cat gave him a pitying look. Luke had not encountered many animals in Tatooine, but even so, he was sure their expressions shouldn’t look so unnervingly human.
It was then that Luke noticed that the cat had trodden through a thick pile of leaves, uncovering a small glinting object.
Squinting, he reached down and grabbed it, the grooves and indents telling him it was a metal key.
Maybe it was something to do with the well? He’d have to ask Ezra the next time he saw him- which judging by how tiny the population of this town was, would probably be sooner rather than later.
Sighing, he pocketed the key and turned back the way he’d come, gingerly feeling his way down the uneven path.
……………………………
‘You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?’ Luke said to the cat, who stared at him with large glassy eyes. ‘I’ve already told you, my uncle doesn’t like animals. He won’t let you inside the house.’
He’d been sure the cat would wander off on the way back down the valley; it looked well cared for, and probably had a home to go to. But it had stuck steadfastly to Luke’s side, even as he approached the front door.
The gaze was unblinking, and Luke felt his barriers crumble.
‘If you promise to stay out of sight, I’ll sneak you some food. We have left over roast chicken from yesterday, so you’ll be dining like a King.’
The cat stretched its tail in approval, and Luke steeled himself, pushing the door open. Aunt Beru was immediately fussing over him, cupping his face and turning it from side to side checking for injuries.
‘Where on earth have you been Luke, we’ve been mad with worry!’
Owen stood behind her in the hallway, arms folded. Luke met his gaze obstinately as Beru peeled the soaking coat from his shoulders.
‘You cannot just walk out on us like that Luke, do you hear me? You’re too old to be throwing childish tantrums-’
‘I’m almost seventeen, I can make my own decisions! And I won’t let you talk that way about my father-’
Behind his uncle’s reddening face, Luke noticed the cat laying languidly outside on the windowpane and trailed off. Did the stupid animal not realise that Owen would kick him out if he saw him?
He tried to mentally communicate this, but the cat remained unbothered, yawning largely and showing off gleaming canines. Owen, seeing Luke’s gaze, turned around to see what he was staring at- but the cat had vanished.
Seeing that this was swiftly headed towards another argument, Beru stepped in.
‘We’ve all had a long day, and we’re not going to get anywhere tonight. I think it’s best if we sleep this off. Luke, you’re absolutely drenched, and you look dead on your feet- you can take your dinner upstairs tonight.’
Luke didn’t need to be told twice. Stepping around his uncle, he quickly helped himself to a bigger portion of food than he would usually take, and scurried upstairs to the refuge of his room. He could hear them whisper-arguing about him downstairs.
As he switched on the bedroom light, he was somehow unsurprised at what awaited him. The cat had managed to wind its way through the tiny crack in the window jar and slip into Luke’s room, where he now lay nestled on the pillow, purring loudly.
‘They are going to kill me if they find out I let a stray cat in here,’ Luke muttered. The cat seemed impervious to his plight as it enthusiastically gobbled up the chicken.
‘Well, now that you’ve invaded my room, I guess you’re here to stay. You’ll need a name.’
He thought of the cat’s impressive vanishing act when faced with the threat of his uncle, and was reminded of a series of science fiction novels he had been obsessed with as a child. His favourite character had been a plucky robot who irrepressibly seemed to survive even the narrowest of encounters with the arch villain.
‘Artoo! You’re just like Artoo’.
The cat stilled for a second, head tilted as if considering if this name was acceptable, before carrying on eating.
‘Artoo it is then.’
Luke picked at his plate half-heartedly for a few minutes, before giving into his exhaustion. He rid himself of his sodden clothes and changed into pyjamas, tucking the small key into his breast pocket, before burrowing under the covers and displacing the cat who hissed at him.
‘I’ve already given you food, you can’t have my bed as well!’
Artoo bristled, but reluctantly curled up in a ball next to Luke’s feet on top of the covers.
‘You’d better not have fleas, or I’m putting you outside myself.’
Artoo gave him a haughty look, as if Luke had said something highly offensive.
‘I’ll take your word for it then. Goodnight.’
………………………
Luke shot up in bed in a cold sweat.
He couldn’t say what exactly had woken him, but immediately he noticed the familiar weight of Artoo gone from the end of the sheets. The faint light from his alarm clock told him it was 3am exactly.
Feeling suddenly wide awake, he called softly for the cat, checking under the bed, behind the curtains, outside the window. Irritably he eyed his bedroom door, which had not been ajar when he’d fallen asleep.
‘That damned cat,’ Luke muttered, throwing a sweater on over his pyjamas. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking, letting him in like that.’
Softly padding downstairs and praying he didn’t wake his aunt and uncle, he searched the numerous empty rooms, the kitchen, the hallway, the bathrooms and the laundry closet. There was no sign of Artoo anywhere.
Perhaps the cat had grown tired of Luke’s hospitality and decided to leave? But that was impossible- Luke had closed the window before going to bed, and all the other windows in the house were shut.
Hoping his suspicions were false, he tiptoed around the edge of the stairs to the basement entrance. The door which had been very much locked earlier, was now wide open.
How on earth-
Squinting through the darkness, Luke made his way down the stairs. There was a single wide window at the top of the basement wall, and a shaft of moonlight lit his way through the room.
‘Huh.'
Artoo was nowhere in sight, but Luke’s attention had diverted elsewhere.
In the centre of the wall was a door, so tiny Luke wouldn’t have noticed it without the moonlight. He wasn’t sure that he would be able to fit through it, even with his small frame.
He tugged on the handle, feeling like the miniature handle would crumple in his grasp, but the door stayed closed.
Fumbling in his pocket, he drew out the tiny key he hadn’t thought of since he’d returned to the house. It was made of brass, with an ornate swirling pattern that perfectly matched the door handle.
Holding his breath, he slotted the key into the lock, and it swung open with a click.