Ben glanced at him in surprise at the mention of Taris; it wasn't a planet anyone usually wanted to travel to, unless there was some military or political reason to. He gave the ship another considering glance, but kept quiet. He could wait to see what else the man revealed about himself, before starting to ask potentially dangerous and revealing questions of his own.
The man's reaction to Tatooine made Ben huff a laugh that had very little to do with amusement. "Yes, this place... does like to draw people to it, doesn't it." He moved toward the man's uninjured side, stopping beside him and nodding in invitation. "Hold on to me, we'll hobble along fast enough."
Common sense would tell him to be wary of strangers in the desert. But Luke's nature was seldom wary, and on the contrary everything about this man was engendering a strange sort of instant trust in him. His presence was comfortable, familiar. And Luke wanted to trust him, not without question because nothing had dulled his curiosity, but without doubt. It made no sense, but he'd learned to trust his instincts--or at least, hadn't yet learned any lessons against doing so.
Still, he didn't elaborate on his mission to Taris--the search for Jedi relics required either too much explanation or too much defensiveness on his part for him to enter into it lightly. He nodded and slung an arm around the man's back to support himself. The feeling of comfort, of calm belonging, did not fade, though analyzing it through the haze of disorientation and pain seemed unimportant.
There was the slightest hitch in Ben's step as the man introduced himself. Luke. He glanced sidelong at his companion, but continued moving through the canyon toward his small home.
"I won't say it's a pleasure to meet you, Luke, under the circumstances, but well-met all the same. I'm Ben."
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."
Luke's reaction made Obi-Wan falter slightly again. "Yes, and I know someone named Luke," he supplied. "Though he's nowhere near your age. I'd ask where your Ben is - but if you are who I think, then I can probably hazard a guess what happened to him."
He's under no illusions how his life would end. It was rather disconcerting to meet someone who knew conclusively, though. And Luke had to know that he's dead, for he said 'meant' a lot to him. Past tense was always a clear indication of whether someone was still among the living.
He has to force himself to continue walking--hobbling, really, the leg is really in quite a lot of pain--as Ben indicates he knows exactly what's going on. Or, anyway, suspects the same impossible thing Luke does. He pales under the sheen of sweat, biting his lip as he leans a bit on the other man to get his bearings, but soon they're making decent progress, falling into a rhythm.
Maybe that process is sufficient cover for Luke's confusion and shock. How is it possible? And yet, is it any stranger than any other explanation, which relies too heavily on coincidence and long odds? He probably shouldn't have said that, he realizes too late. About knowing someone, about him having meant a lot. It gave away too much.
But he's not sure he's ready to talk about that, or even to acknowledge the truth. It would mean having to do something about it, and that's a level of forethought he doesn't feel equipped for at the moment.
"I think we should focus on the immediate," he says after a pause, almost laughing at how that recalls Yoda's admonition of his need to always chase the future. Well, maybe he has learned something. Or maybe his brain just can't process that this young man could actually be Ben Kenobi.
He never would've guessed red hair, he notices distractedly.
Luke's words pull a teasing grin from Obi-Wan, but he's sensed Luke's confusion, and so refrains from looking at him as he responds, giving him the illusion of privacy, if nothing else. "Spoken like every master Jedi who had the misfortune of teaching me."
"Until you came along, my 'immediate' was a whole lot of sand and waiting. Something I think you might be familiar with, if--" he stops himself though, and shakes his head. He really isn't fishing for information on the future - and that's what they're skirting around, isn't it, as unlikely as it seems at first - but mentioning Owen Lars's absolute refusal to let him teach Luke, something he doesn't imagine the other man will let up on unless circumstances become extremely dire.
"I suppose you're right, though. The immediate would be, getting out of the sun, and seeing to that leg. I'm not much of a healer, sadly. You'll have to stay off it for a while, or risk limping for the rest of your life."
Luke holds his breath a moment, until Ben stops himself, and he's not sure whether he's relieved or disappointed. It'd be nice, after all, to get it out, to have something other than his leg to think about, but he's also not sure yet what his response will be, so it's just as well.
Now the word 'Jedi' is out there, as if there was ever any doubt. But just what else is the other man assuming?
He huffs in irritation and un-Jedi-like impatience at Ben's prescription. He can't afford any lingering weakness, not with his life. And he's eager to hang on to his remaining limbs.
"Meaning you're getting a houseguest, and my ship's repairs are going to take awhile," he grumbles, and then backpedals quickly. "Not that I should assume, I mean... That is, if it's all right--if this is what I think, it's not exactly... safe for me to go anywhere."
The backpedaling takes Obi-Wan more by surprise than the assumption itself, and he glances at Luke with slightly raised brows. "In this instance, your assumption is entirely correct. Not only would it probably not be safe for you elsewhere - but, let's be frank, where else would you go?" His tone is gentle even as his words are blunt. "You don't know this galaxy. The one you're familiar with is at least 15 years in the future."
"Now," his tone turns brisk and business-like again. "Almost there, I'll help you get settled and go back for--" And that's when Obi-Wan remembers thinking the R2 unit seemed familiar, but had decided it was merely similar to the one he was so used to. "R2-D2?" He hazards the guess, unsure which will upset him more: that it isn't the same droid - or that it is.
There's a wave of relief at that, as well as some chagrin at having doubted Ben. (He's getting used to that concept, it seems--it's hard not to, with the man next to him and his presence in the Force a familiar comfort, even if the image is utterly wrong. Fascinatingly so.) So he smiles gratefully, nodding.
He squints up at the other man as he falters over R2's name, and his eyebrows raise. "You did know him!" he says, a trifle indignant, though in the grand scheme of things it's a lesser lie than others Kenobi fostered. It's one part of the mystery he's never pried from R2's memory banks--why the droid had said he'd been owned by Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Luke's emphasis again surprises him, before Obi-Wan's shoulders sag slightly and he offers a small, bittersweet smile. "If you didn't know that, then you probably aren't aware that he originally belonged to your mother. I was there during the altercation he survived, when several of his contemporaries did not, and the queen deemed him exemplary."
His reminiscence, and the familiarity he's already starting to feel with Luke, just from the other man's behavior and feelings toward him, have made Obi-Wan's tongue looser than typical. He glances at Luke and wonders just how much he told him, in the future-past. What truths did he obfuscate, or outright hide from him?
Trying to divert the conversation - at least until he has more time to consider what, if anything, he will tell Luke if the boy asks after certain subjects (he should have had at least a decade's more time to think on that before he'd needed to know) - Obi-Wan nods toward the small dome of his house, closer than it appears due to its sunken architecture. "Here we are."
Luke has so many questions. His eyes widen at the mention of his mother, something of a lost little boy rising to the surface. Who was his mother? What queen? How did R2 go from whoever she was to Leia to Ben to him? What did it mean, and how much more did Obi-Wan know that he hadn't told Luke?
He's opened his mouth to spill forth about eighty different variations on those questions when Kenobi forestalls him by gesturing to his hut, and Luke is forced to follow his gaze out of politeness as well as curiosity. It looks the same, slightly less weathered, perhaps, but things aged quickly in the desert.
He wonders how long Ben's been here.
"Thank you," he says, meaning for the whole thing--whatever's going on here, he could've ended up with worse company, even if this is company which makes no logical sense. "If it's like I remember, I'm sure it's cozy."
That draws a startled laugh from Obi-Wan. "If by 'cozy' you mean ramshackle and covered in sand and dust, then yes, it's extremely cozy."
He does his best to keep the place clean, but even though he has water to spare in his reservoir, he's not going to waste it wiping down every surface constantly. He has a new appreciation for Anakin constantly complaining any time they were on a dry world, though.
Ah, there it is; that sharp pang of grief he tries to keep tucked away, whenever he thinks of his friend, his brother.
After helping Luke hobble over to a softly lined davenport, Obi-Wan stands and just looks at him for a moment. "You look like your father," he murmurs, unable to stop the words, or the sadness that creeps into his eyes.
"Tell me something. Anything, about your life. Something inconsequential, that it won't matter if I know."
Much as Luke had always wanted to leave Tatooine--and as many times as he'd been dragged back--there's a strange sort of nostalgia, being here. He's been back, but only after Ben was gone, everything fallen into the sort of disused dustiness that makes its current state seem pristine.
He glances up sharply at the observation, barely heard over the distraction of his leg, and his eyes widen with an almost childlike loss mixed with the same sort of gratitude he'd felt when first hearing his father was a Jedi Knight. He's never much thought about it, knowing he'd never have the chance to know what Anakin was like. Must be something about this room, he thinks, and swallows back all the things he wants to tell Obi-Wan.
He wants to say I met my sister. He wants to say Anakin's still in there, even now, and I will reach him, and you will be avenged that way. He wants to say so many things that this man probably shouldn't hear, given that they don't know why this is happening or what might affect the future. His past? Whatever this is. But what will matter to Ben, that won't alter his actions? Or reveal more about Ben's own end? Luke's life, of late, has been a string of consequential events.
"I finally tasted ice cream," he says suddenly, without thinking. "Just last year, actually." He smiles. "It was amazing."
The lingering melancholy he's still feeling, that prompted his question looking for a distraction, is pushed roughly aside at Luke's words, and Obi-Wan starts laughing. And laughing. Because yes, that is something foreign to Tatooine, and even if the observation reminds him of Anakin as well, it's a good memory.
"Yes, most ice cream is amazing. Y-- Some people speculate there are more flavors than stars in the galaxy." He stops himself from saying those 'people' was actually Luke's father. He needs to start divorcing Luke from the idea of being Anakin's son; he is his own person, with a lifetime of experiences. He's possibly almost as old as Obi-Wan's former friend. It's hard though, because Luke looks so much like him, and even some of his facial expressions and mannerisms, things commonly thought to be learned from parents, not inherited, are so similar.
No, no, stop that.
Still. He thinks Luke's forced convalescence in his home will help. To that end, Obi-Wan moves to get Luke some water, before heading out to fetch R2-D2.
Luke tries to remember if he'd ever seen Ben laugh. Chuckle is the best he can do, so he watches in wonder as the man outright laughs. At something Luke has said, which he'll admit himself is ridiculous. It had been the only thing to come to mind that isn't going to upset the man, and maybe it's the heat got him thinking about cool desserts. But there's something about making Obi-Wan's face crease into mirth that is oddly satisfying. And humanizing--he needs to start seeing this man as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight in exile, not the old hermit he'd lost on the Death Star.
He drinks the water down gratefully, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after draining the glass, and then sets to examining his leg as Obi-Wan fetches R2. It doesn't seem to be broken, but he sprain is pretty intense, as is the swelling.
Luke finally lies back, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, trying to figure out how he got here. He'll have to check the flight recorder, but as far as he can tell, it hadn't been an instrument malfunction--but something had definitely happened to throw them off. And he'd, apparently, traveled through time. He wonders if there's any precedent for this. And how one would go about even finding that out. And that leads to another thought, and another--if this is real, what will his presence do to history?
And if he's here now, does that mean he was here when he himself was a boy?
It's all giving him a headache by the time Obi-Wan gets back, frowning with furrowed brow up at the ceiling and lost in thought.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The man's reaction to Tatooine made Ben huff a laugh that had very little to do with amusement. "Yes, this place... does like to draw people to it, doesn't it." He moved toward the man's uninjured side, stopping beside him and nodding in invitation. "Hold on to me, we'll hobble along fast enough."
no subject
Still, he didn't elaborate on his mission to Taris--the search for Jedi relics required either too much explanation or too much defensiveness on his part for him to enter into it lightly. He nodded and slung an arm around the man's back to support himself. The feeling of comfort, of calm belonging, did not fade, though analyzing it through the haze of disorientation and pain seemed unimportant.
"I'm Luke," he said after a moment.
no subject
"I won't say it's a pleasure to meet you, Luke, under the circumstances, but well-met all the same. I'm Ben."
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."
no subject
He's under no illusions how his life would end. It was rather disconcerting to meet someone who knew conclusively, though. And Luke had to know that he's dead, for he said 'meant' a lot to him. Past tense was always a clear indication of whether someone was still among the living.
no subject
Maybe that process is sufficient cover for Luke's confusion and shock. How is it possible? And yet, is it any stranger than any other explanation, which relies too heavily on coincidence and long odds? He probably shouldn't have said that, he realizes too late. About knowing someone, about him having meant a lot. It gave away too much.
But he's not sure he's ready to talk about that, or even to acknowledge the truth. It would mean having to do something about it, and that's a level of forethought he doesn't feel equipped for at the moment.
"I think we should focus on the immediate," he says after a pause, almost laughing at how that recalls Yoda's admonition of his need to always chase the future. Well, maybe he has learned something. Or maybe his brain just can't process that this young man could actually be Ben Kenobi.
He never would've guessed red hair, he notices distractedly.
no subject
"Until you came along, my 'immediate' was a whole lot of sand and waiting. Something I think you might be familiar with, if--" he stops himself though, and shakes his head. He really isn't fishing for information on the future - and that's what they're skirting around, isn't it, as unlikely as it seems at first - but mentioning Owen Lars's absolute refusal to let him teach Luke, something he doesn't imagine the other man will let up on unless circumstances become extremely dire.
"I suppose you're right, though. The immediate would be, getting out of the sun, and seeing to that leg. I'm not much of a healer, sadly. You'll have to stay off it for a while, or risk limping for the rest of your life."
no subject
Now the word 'Jedi' is out there, as if there was ever any doubt. But just what else is the other man assuming?
He huffs in irritation and un-Jedi-like impatience at Ben's prescription. He can't afford any lingering weakness, not with his life. And he's eager to hang on to his remaining limbs.
"Meaning you're getting a houseguest, and my ship's repairs are going to take awhile," he grumbles, and then backpedals quickly. "Not that I should assume, I mean... That is, if it's all right--if this is what I think, it's not exactly... safe for me to go anywhere."
In more ways than one.
no subject
"Now," his tone turns brisk and business-like again. "Almost there, I'll help you get settled and go back for--" And that's when Obi-Wan remembers thinking the R2 unit seemed familiar, but had decided it was merely similar to the one he was so used to. "R2-D2?" He hazards the guess, unsure which will upset him more: that it isn't the same droid - or that it is.
no subject
He squints up at the other man as he falters over R2's name, and his eyebrows raise. "You did know him!" he says, a trifle indignant, though in the grand scheme of things it's a lesser lie than others Kenobi fostered. It's one part of the mystery he's never pried from R2's memory banks--why the droid had said he'd been owned by Obi-Wan Kenobi.
no subject
His reminiscence, and the familiarity he's already starting to feel with Luke, just from the other man's behavior and feelings toward him, have made Obi-Wan's tongue looser than typical. He glances at Luke and wonders just how much he told him, in the future-past. What truths did he obfuscate, or outright hide from him?
Trying to divert the conversation - at least until he has more time to consider what, if anything, he will tell Luke if the boy asks after certain subjects (he should have had at least a decade's more time to think on that before he'd needed to know) - Obi-Wan nods toward the small dome of his house, closer than it appears due to its sunken architecture. "Here we are."
no subject
He's opened his mouth to spill forth about eighty different variations on those questions when Kenobi forestalls him by gesturing to his hut, and Luke is forced to follow his gaze out of politeness as well as curiosity. It looks the same, slightly less weathered, perhaps, but things aged quickly in the desert.
He wonders how long Ben's been here.
"Thank you," he says, meaning for the whole thing--whatever's going on here, he could've ended up with worse company, even if this is company which makes no logical sense. "If it's like I remember, I'm sure it's cozy."
no subject
He does his best to keep the place clean, but even though he has water to spare in his reservoir, he's not going to waste it wiping down every surface constantly. He has a new appreciation for Anakin constantly complaining any time they were on a dry world, though.
Ah, there it is; that sharp pang of grief he tries to keep tucked away, whenever he thinks of his friend, his brother.
After helping Luke hobble over to a softly lined davenport, Obi-Wan stands and just looks at him for a moment. "You look like your father," he murmurs, unable to stop the words, or the sadness that creeps into his eyes.
"Tell me something. Anything, about your life. Something inconsequential, that it won't matter if I know."
no subject
He glances up sharply at the observation, barely heard over the distraction of his leg, and his eyes widen with an almost childlike loss mixed with the same sort of gratitude he'd felt when first hearing his father was a Jedi Knight. He's never much thought about it, knowing he'd never have the chance to know what Anakin was like. Must be something about this room, he thinks, and swallows back all the things he wants to tell Obi-Wan.
He wants to say I met my sister. He wants to say Anakin's still in there, even now, and I will reach him, and you will be avenged that way. He wants to say so many things that this man probably shouldn't hear, given that they don't know why this is happening or what might affect the future. His past? Whatever this is. But what will matter to Ben, that won't alter his actions? Or reveal more about Ben's own end? Luke's life, of late, has been a string of consequential events.
"I finally tasted ice cream," he says suddenly, without thinking. "Just last year, actually." He smiles. "It was amazing."
no subject
"Yes, most ice cream is amazing. Y-- Some people speculate there are more flavors than stars in the galaxy." He stops himself from saying those 'people' was actually Luke's father. He needs to start divorcing Luke from the idea of being Anakin's son; he is his own person, with a lifetime of experiences. He's possibly almost as old as Obi-Wan's former friend. It's hard though, because Luke looks so much like him, and even some of his facial expressions and mannerisms, things commonly thought to be learned from parents, not inherited, are so similar.
No, no, stop that.
Still. He thinks Luke's forced convalescence in his home will help. To that end, Obi-Wan moves to get Luke some water, before heading out to fetch R2-D2.
no subject
He drinks the water down gratefully, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after draining the glass, and then sets to examining his leg as Obi-Wan fetches R2. It doesn't seem to be broken, but he sprain is pretty intense, as is the swelling.
Luke finally lies back, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, trying to figure out how he got here. He'll have to check the flight recorder, but as far as he can tell, it hadn't been an instrument malfunction--but something had definitely happened to throw them off. And he'd, apparently, traveled through time. He wonders if there's any precedent for this. And how one would go about even finding that out. And that leads to another thought, and another--if this is real, what will his presence do to history?
And if he's here now, does that mean he was here when he himself was a boy?
It's all giving him a headache by the time Obi-Wan gets back, frowning with furrowed brow up at the ceiling and lost in thought.