Why couldn't it be a pleasure? Luke wondered vaguely, knowing it was merely politeness and that his own response was out of proportion. The injury, the familiarity with things now fondly remembered, and this odd feeling of at homeness with the other man were on his side, simply a heightened reaction to trauma. And he--
"Ben?" He faltered in his step, staring up at the man and searching the unlined face with his breath caught in his lungs. The resemblance was uncanny, now that he was allowing himself to see it and not just dismissing the coincidence of location. The voice, the eyes, the very presence of him. Impossible or not, this could be no one but Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anything else was even more unthinkable.
But what did it mean? A clone? A dream? A trick from some dark power, to lure him into a trap?
Whatever it was, he could not explain it, and so perhaps taking a leaf from Ben's old playbook he shook it off and forced a tight smile.
"I knew someone of that name," he offered by way of explanation. "He ... meant a lot to me."
no subject
"Ben?" He faltered in his step, staring up at the man and searching the unlined face with his breath caught in his lungs. The resemblance was uncanny, now that he was allowing himself to see it and not just dismissing the coincidence of location. The voice, the eyes, the very presence of him. Impossible or not, this could be no one but Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anything else was even more unthinkable.
But what did it mean? A clone? A dream? A trick from some dark power, to lure him into a trap?
Whatever it was, he could not explain it, and so perhaps taking a leaf from Ben's old playbook he shook it off and forced a tight smile.
"I knew someone of that name," he offered by way of explanation. "He ... meant a lot to me."