DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc, 20th Century Fox, Timothy Zahn, Barbara Hambly, YKW and the other writers of the expanded Star Wars Universe. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
The hot jungle of Yavin had never been Mara's favorite place. She was a city girl. She had lived her entire life in Coruscant, and she had liked all the luxuries that provided. But out here, Valery seemed to thrive and grow, his strengths opening up as the life around him hummed and droned from the jungle. Valery liked it--in fact, he loved it. He seemed to have a passion for tramping the jungle trails, looking for animals, usually finding them, especially the ones that were injured. They never tried to bite him. It was as if they knew him, and he treated them as carefully as if they were every bit a human as he.
The Skywalkers had discovered quickly his ability to heal--even without Vaiya's tale, they would have seen it right away. Even the other Jedi apprentices came to him with physical ailments, and usually it was Mara who had to chase them away. The boy would give until he dropped, and they needed to learn self-reliance. And some pain endurance.
Mara watched Valery practicing his telekinetic abilities on some nearby rocks. Nearby, Vaiya sat and watched. While she was not his teacher, she was more skilled in her telekinetic abilities than most. Luke and Mara had agreed that Mara would be Valery's official teacher, but that he would learn what he needed to when he needed to learn it. Luke worked on Valery's mental abilities, and tried to hone his senses to feel out situations, gain insight from the Force. Mara took a more spiritual responsibility for him, teaching him to walk, talk, and act like a Jedi Knight. Irony was heavy in the air around their home. She found herself saying many things to him that Luke had said to her so long ago and had nearly driven her nuts with repeated saying.
The rocks dropped, the loud heavy thuds sounding like giant raindrops on the soft ground of Yavin IV. Valery was panting, and he looked at Vaiya.
"Okay, ten minutes," he said. "Now can I?"
Vaiya nodded. "Just don't cut your head off!" she warned as he raced off.
Mara grinned. Valery was coming up the stairway toward her, into their home. He smiled at Mara. "Vaiya said I could try Mother's lightsaber," he said.
Mara nodded. "Just be careful," she warned.
Vaiya stood up from where she was on the ground, and quickly looked around her. Then she glanced up at Mara. "Watch him for a minute, will you? I think I left my cape and saber out with Derrin this morning."
Mara grinned. "Your saber, too? Now that's fine behavior for a Jedi Master."
Vaiya gave her mother a slightly scathing look, but it was amused. She scampered off through the trees, then out the other side into the wide field where Derrin had taken his class. He hated teaching in the enclosed temple--he had to be outside, where it was open. And they always picked the best spot--right where the ships from the port could be seen coming and going.
"Mom?" Mara turned to see Valery holding Callista's lightsaber in both hands. He was eleven years old now, but he still had the smallest hands. Probably from Skywalker's side, Mara thought. She smiled and bent down.
"Do you know how to activate it safely?" she asked.
He nodded, and then his young face grew wary as he looked at her. "It just feels funny," he said.
"What does?" A small alarm went off in the back of Mara's head. "The lightsaber? Let me see--"
"No," the boy shook his head. Mara watched him closely, feeling his emotions. He was probing her mind, searching for something, some sort of reassurance. She sent him her love--she could not have loved him more if he had been her own son.
"Then what?" she whispered.
He shrugged. "Actually, it doesn't feel funny. That's what feels funny." He giggled at the paradox.
Mara frowned slightly, an amused grin rising to her lips. Sometimes the boy was just like his father---"What?" she asked again.
"Calling you Mom." He shook his head. "I can't remember when I called you anything else. Isn't that funny?"
Mara smiled, stroking his hair. "I can't remember it, either," she said reassuringly. "And I don't want to."
Valery smiled at her, his boyish smile that had probably come from his mother. He lowered the lightsaber and carefully aimed it away from them. Under Mara's watchful eye, he activated it, and the bright yellow beam lit up the room like the rising sun.
Vaiya reached the place where Derrin had taken his small band of students. He felt her as she approached and turned, greeting her with his old grin--the one that had once made her heart flutter. She found she liked Derrin better now that she wasn't infatuated with him, but it mattered to her very little what he thought of her in return.
"Master Vaiya," he said, giving a slightly, respectful vow. "Perhaps you could help us. We seem to be having a bit of a problem."
"What is it?" she asked, picking up her lightsaber, which sat a few feet away from the group, and latching it onto her belt.
"Master Vaiya," one of the female students began, "we don't understand why emotions are so bad. Fear and anger are natural. The Force comes from nature. We can't help but experience them!"
Vaiya smiled. "What goes into us cannot ever harm us," she began, "even fear and anger. We see them, we acknowledge them, and then we dismiss them. You are right, they are not evil emotions, and as sentient beings we have them. But what comes out of us, that is what can harm us. If we act in fear or anger, then they become dangerous. They take the focus away from where it should be and onto ourselves and our own ends, which might not be evil but are tainted with our human imperfection. This leaves us open to be controlled by others, because we have harmed ourselves and made our wills weak with self-indulgence and pride. Remember this--as long as you are alive, as long as you are still breathing, never let anyone control you. No one has any power over you unless you give it to them. Listen only to God. Do not listen even to yourselves."
"But what god?" another student demanded. "And if we can't trust ourselves, then who can we trust?"
"As for your first question," Vaiya returned calmly, "there has been much debate over this new view of the Force, and I do not claim to be able to understand all aspects of it. I know that there is only one God, but He has many names. Every culture knows Him, as He has made the world and all in it, most especially the Force. You must search for Him, or Her, or whatever is in your culture. I promise you, it is there. The Jedi have managed to survive because they remembered the Will of the Force, which merely God's Will detatched from its source. They hung fast to the creed of putting selflessness over selfishness, and it was only by this that they endured for as long. But without a center, without the right focus, they grew arrogant and fell. We are the new order. We have to be examples. At the very least, if we wish to serve the galaxy, we must understand it. Every culture believes in a God of some sort. And what better way is there to understand sentient beings than knowing what they believe in? Religion is the answer to life, it's what gives it meaning. But I promise that if you search with an open heart, you will find what you are looking for."
She took a deep breath and added, "All that is needed for salvation is a willing and repentant heart. All else is done for us."
Derrin stared at her for a moment. "Where did that come from?" he asked softly.
Vaiya shrugged. "I don't know. I just felt the need to say it."
Derrin smiled at her as he bent over to pick up her cloak. "So sayeth the prophet Vaiya," he said in a low voice. He glanced at his students, who were silently muddling over Vaiya's words. He pulled the cloak open to set it on her shoulders.
Abruptly, Vaiya's face fell from the gentle amusement to surprise. She turned around, and Derrin froze in his motion, holding out the cloak before him with both hands stopped in mid air. There was a ship landing on the dock. It was a small ship, and it landed close to the edge. The lone occupant appeared in seconds, a familiar head of thick, brownish-blond curls billowing in the heavy jungle breeze.
Vaiya took three steps forward, and then broke into a dead run.
Luke came out of his study, feeling the disturbance in the Force. Mara and Valery were at the window, watching calmly. Mara turned her head to look at Luke. "Our son in law is back," she said, guesturing for Luke to join them. He did, his arm going around Mara's shoulder.
"Can you feel it?" she whispered.
Luke nodded. It was a tangible sensation, rolling across the wide clearing of the jungle, nearly a shout in their ears. Vaiya's joy radiated from her, as far away as she was. Her hair blew behind her like a comet tail, her feet barely touching the ground.
The figure she was running for was struggling to get down from the landing bay. A long set of winding stairs etched into the low mountainside would have made his journey faster if there hadn't been people on it getting in his way. He finally tired of the slow pace and lept over the rail, his feet sliding a bit on the gravelly rock as his hood came up and covered his head again. Then he lept his way down the hill, his arms spread out to give him balance. His hood fell away again, and Mara and Luke realized that it was not just Vaiya's joy that they were feeling. Not even her powers could affect the entire academy. It seemed that everything froze around that moment, and finally, Vaiya reached him.
The force of impact was so great that he had to lift her up slightly, but he held her close, not letting her go, catching them both with the Force. Long seconds passed as they felt each others presence, knowing that the last year had finally ended, and that the rest of their lives had begun.
Vaiya pulled away first. He smiled at her, his face never seeming so beautiful. She beamed back.
"Welcome home, my love," she whispered.
"I thought I'd never get here," he sighed. Then he paused. "So when are you going to marry me?"
If it was possible, her smile widened
"Whenever you say."
He paused, and then his face changed as if he'd just remembered something. "But...how can you marry me? I don't have anything to give you. I don't even have my last name."
She looked at him very solemnly, and whispered, "Then I'll give you mine."
The wedding took place within a few months at the First Temple. It was the first time a big assembly had been invited to the planet, and the Durranians used the opportunity to strengthen their desire to become a part of the New Republic. They even footed the bill, and Luke and Mara had to take special care in inviting the right delegates--then Mara, who usually sneered at the idea of impressing people, passed the job onto Leia. In spite of her heavy duties, the former Princess took the burden happily.
The hall was full. Luke stood not too far away from the door to Vaiya's changing room. He was dressed in a midnight blue suit made of the thin Durranian velvet, the style similiar to the old white Jedi tunics that Obi-Wan had worn. Mara slipped out the door and approached him, wearing a sleeveless dress made of teal green material, with velvet patterns embossed on it.
"Makes we want to do this all over again," he sighed as he took her hand.
"Just hold on, Farmboy," she said with a wink. "You know, we never did finish that honeymoon, either."
He grinned at her, remembering. "That was a crazy night, wasn't it?"
She nodded. "But we managed to get the best part before it ended." She kissed him lightly. "See you at the altar." And she strode away, the floor-length skirt of the dress swishing around her legs.
Luke watched her go--it helped that the back of the dress was cut low to hang at her waist. She threw him a glance of pure mischief and then focused her attention on the people around her who greeted her from their seats. He sighed and shook his head. Thank God Mara would never change--young or old, it didn't matter. She was still Mara.
The door opened again, and Luke was taken back by a new vision. Vaiya appeared, dressed in glimmering fabric that looked like liquid gold. Her arms and shoulders were covered with a layer of tiny golden feathers, and the feathers spread down her back, getting larger as they descended into a great train that stretched out a few feet behind her. The rest of the dress was a soft white, gathering modestly at her chest and flowing down her legs in heavy folds of satin embossed with a pattern of more miniature feathers and pearls set in gold.
"You don't think it's too much, do you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's beautiful," Luke murmured. "But it looks heavy."
"It isn't, really. Gold is actually pretty light." She shifted. "It feels really comfortable, actually, but I'm afraid that it's a bit....flashy."
Luke smiled at her. "You look beautiful." He pushed a thin tendril of her hair back into the crown she wore on her head, a wreath of the same golden leaves, studded with small irridescent gems that caught the light. Her hair spilled around the crown to fall against her shoulders. The side tendrils had been woven into ornate braids and had been tied off with a few pearls and golden beads.
She sighed, relief flooding her face. "I feel beautiful," she said softly.
"You are beautiful." Luke felt himself fighting the sudden impulse to cry. This was his little girl--little no longer, ready to leave him and start her own life. Even though she had grown up a long time ago, even left them and found her own path, he still felt like he was loosing her all over again.
She touched his arm. "Come on, Daddy," she said. "The party is starting. We can't be late."
"Don't worry about it," he said, taking her arm in his. "They won't start until we get there, anyway."
He led her down the aisle and gave her hand over to Larin, who was dressed in a fine linen suit, covered with a thick grey robe of velvet that was embroidered with the same pearls and golden leaf as Vaiya's around the sleeves and shoulders. They barely looked around them as they spoke their vows and the ceremony commensed. When they kissed, Luke felt Mara's hand reach for his own. He looked at her, and she smiled with sympathy.
My little girl is not a Skywalker anymore, he sent to her.
Then, distinctly, he felt Vaiya reply as she and Larin turned to head back down the aisle, I'll always be a Skywalker, and smiled at them as she strode away, Larin's hand in her own.
Mara stood up and put her arms around Luke's neck. "Was there ever any doubt?" she whispered.
Luke gave a short chuckle and glanced down at Valery, who was chasing after the happy couple. "I guess not. Once a Skywalker...always a Skywalker."
She had left him. Now he was alone. He had been alone for some time, but he was feeling it more intensely now than before. Like something had happened to her, like she had done something to irrevocably cut herself off from him. But he knew...she loved another. How much she loved him, only she knew. What she felt for himself, only she knew. All he knew was his own emotions.
They made no sense to him.
His small craft had landed on the desert floor in the middle of the great desert. From where he stood at the top of the landing ramp, with his binoculars he could see the very tip of the great temple. He had not looked upon it in some time.
What was he doing here?
He shook his head silently as he lowered the binoculars, and made his way down the ramp. This felt familiar, yet somehow was different--his red and black face had lost its sharp edges. The fierceness of the mask was gone, drained from him. Maybe that was from his listless wanderings around the outer rim, or maybe it was his loss weighing heavily upon him. His eyes were not even the bright yellow-green anymore. They had darkened, slowly at first, then deepened into a rich shade of green. The change might have alarmed him otherwise, but in his current state, he merely accepted it as inevitable.
The cult was dead. He had felt them die, one at a time. Even now, their death shrieks were faint echoes in the back of his mind. He learned to ignore them, knowing they would go away. A year did not seem so long now. It felt like only yesterday he had been freed. Or abandoned. He could take his pick.
But something pulled him here. Not the fact that she would be here soon--he didn't know why he knew that, he just did. Here to make a home for herself, to have a husband, to have his children and be a teacher, as she was meant to be. It had nothing to do with her, and at the same time, everything. She had shown him hope. For a long time, he had thought her to be his hope, but now he had a suspicion that she had only been a shadow of that hope. There was something bigger, something greater awaiting him. As abandoned as he might be now, there was a path for him to follow.
He just had to find it.
The desert sands shifted under his heavy black-booted feet as he walked. He wasn't sure what direction he was going in--he let his instincts guide him. Soon, he came to what looked like a giant stone, sticking up out of the desert floor. It was like a lop-sided pyramid, and there was a low door at its base. He pressed at the door, but it didn't budge. He felt at the sides, but there was no control. He backed up, examining it closely. The last rays of the day were quickly slipping into the horizon, and his vision was distorted by the tricks the phantom light was playing on his eyes.
Then he heard a sound.
He turned to see someone come around the corner of the giant stone, wrapped in a thick brown robe. The figure stopped and lifted his head. Green eyes met his, a different shade--like emeralds, sharp and bright. A closer inspection told him that the man was rather old, but in good shape. Hairless and wrinkled, but well-built and quite able to move. The old man approached him with caution.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice just a touch sharp. His reply was a flinch from his strange guest. His cloak hid his face, aided by the evening shadows. But once the old man saw it, he would surely reject him.
"My name is Seth," he said.
The old man nodded. "Darth Seth?" he said, a lilting sound at the end giving the statement the feel of a question.
"I was Darth Seth. Now I am just Seth."
"And what are you?"
"I don't know." He raised his head, and showed the old man part of his face, the red and black marking shifting on his skin as he willed them back, as he willed the old man to see him as Vaiya had seen him, without the mask.
The old man nodded. "That's what I like to hear. Come on inside." He shuffled to the door, and it slid open with barely any effort on his part. "Watch out...it's a bit of a drop." And he hunched down and slid into the darkness.
Seth followed, easily catching himself on the stone floor fifteen feet below the surface of the sand. He looked around, his eyes straining to adjust but failing. There was something about this place, something that knew him. Something that made him feel excited and humble and terrified and joyful all at once. Then the old man lit a torch and got a full look at his visitor.
"Uh huh," he grunted, and Seth swore he saw a look of approval on the man's face. Perhaps this man did see him as Vaiya did. Then the old man smiled. "My name is Valeris. I think I've been expecting you."