The Bestest Present
By Sienn / PG-13

Here is my entry for the "The Talk" challenge. Beforehand, I just want to mention that I don't know much about children, so I have absolutely no idea whether I got the four-year-old in this story all right. Please excuse if I didn't get the child right. Just try to enjoy :D

"You still don't have a present?" Six-year-old Ben Skywalker crossed his arms and looked down onto the other child that shared the room with him.

The little girl glared darkly at him, her emerald-green eyes clearly bearing signs of her annoyance - both with herself and her 'big' brother. "I do!"

The small boy hopped from his bed and came over to his sister, crouching down before her and grinning broadly, mischief twinkling in azure eyes so startlingly similar to his father's.
"I don't believe you."

Her whole answer was a pout and another glare meant to terrify him. Ben laughed, jumped to his feet and ran over to the door, grabbing his toy X-Wings and TIE fighters before he raced out of the room, shouting: "I have one and it is great. And YOU won't have one."

"I DO have one." She cried after him, at the top of her small lungs, but the very moment he had vanished out of the chamber for good, her shoulders sagged and gone was her defiant mood.
Four-year-old Elora Skywalker had a problem. And not just one of the usual problems, like not being able to decide which doll to play with or whether she wanted to sit in Mommy's or Daddy's lap while she was told a bedtime story.

No, this time, she was in trouble. Big trouble. Never had anything threatened her young life's happiness like that. Pushing one of her heavy, sandy-brown locks out of her face, she started to chew on her right thumb's nail, forgetting all the times 3PO had told her not to do that, because 'good little ladies don't do such a thing'.

What did she care about her fingernails? She DIDN'T have a birthday present for her Daddy!!! This was outrageous. Never had she NOT had a birthday present for her Daddy. She had always had wonderful ideas.

Wrinkling her little, delicately shaped nose, she conceded that, perhaps, two times weren't THAT many birthdays yet, but her father had ALWAYS loved her presents and he had always said that her presents were the ones he loved the most.

Elora was very proud that she had never had to ask any adults to help her make a present. Ben was always running to Aunt Leia or Uncle Han, because he didn't get his presents done alone. But, she emphasized to herself, straightening proudly in the process, she had always made the presents for her Daddy all alone.

The stupid thing was that, this year, she hadn't had ANY idea as to what to give him. She had made him a crown of flowers two years ago. Her brother had laughed at her, but her Daddy had worn it the whole evening. And mommy had grinned all the time, so she had liked it, too. And last year, she had drawn a picture of R2.

But what would she do this year? She couldn't draw another picture. You couldn't give the same thing two times. Besides, it had taken her SOOOO long to do that picture and she didn't have time. In an hour or so, Mommy would come to put her to bed and her Daddy celebrated his birthday the next morning...

Once again close to tears, Elora fought hard to keep despair at bay. Her Daddy had so often told her that despair was not a good thing to feel. Nor was fear. They belonged to the Dark Side. She didn't really understand what the Dark Side was; she just understood that it was a bad thing and Daddy would be very sad if she had anything to do with that thing. So Elora tried her best to stay away from it.
Daddy had always said that when she felt afraid or when she didn't know what to do, she should come to him. Normally, she would do that, but of course that wouldn't work now. She could not go to her father and ask him what to give him for his birthday.

For a long while, the little girl stared into eternity, thinking about what to do. She needed a present. Finally, she stood up, a determined expression on her young face. Elora had not wanted to ask for help, but now she didn't have another option.

After all, what would Daddy say if she didn't give him a present? He would be terribly sad and disappointed. And she didn't want to disappoint her Daddy.
Sighing softly, she went to find her Mommy.

**~

Brushing out her long, red-gold hair, Mara Jade-Skywalker exited her bathroom, an amused smile gracing her features when she took sight of her husband. He must have returned from the Senate while she had been preparing for bed.

Ever since he had become Jedi Ambassador six years ago, he had been awesomely busy. It had taken him some time to get used to politics, but meanwhile, he managed just fine to link the business of the Jedi to the galactic politic that was made here. Doubtlessly, the fact that his sister still was the President of the New Republic - recently re-elected with overwhelming majority - helped him a great deal with that.
Yet, it was a hard and time-consuming task to co-ordinate his Jedi, sit in on the more important Senate sessions and go to special missions now and then. Of course she herself supported him as best she could. But she had found that that was best done when she took care of her children.

Of course Mara was far from being an actual housewife. She took care of the children, yes, but she also had some other things running. She taught her niece, Jaina, she helped Luke with every possible thing coming up in regards to the Jedi, went on missions with him and now and then helped out with Karrde's thriving information broking organisation.

All in all, their life was good. She was happy with her family, she felt fulfilled and the galaxy had returned to a peace that brought prosperity to the planets and a very interesting - if challenging - co-existence with the Yuuzhan Vong.

Gazing another time over to her husband, she grinned. As she had said, life was good - and amusing.
Luke was sitting on their bed, staring at his image in the mirror that was built into one of the drawer doors. Was it a trick of light or could she detect the faintest hint of melancholy in his wonderful, sky-blue eyes?

Sinking down onto the mattress herself, she scooted over to him, laying her arms around him from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"What are you staring at, Skywalker?"

"Fifty." He simply answered, still focusing on the mirror.

Mara laughed, kissing his neck softly. "Oh, come on, Luke. You're not telling me that you're feeling old, aren't you?"

The Jedi Master smiled, finally turning his head and glimpsing into her face: "No. No, I'm not. But.... Say, do you think I look old?"

"What??"

"Well, it was something Han said...."

The ex-Emperor's Hand quirked one of her elegant, perfectly shaped eyebrows at him: "And you actually LISTENED to him? Luke, do you never learn?"

Her husband chuckled softly, then let himself fall on his back and stared at the ceiling: "I know. I'm sounding like a complete idiot, am I not?"

"No. Actually, you're just sounding like your usual self." His wife settled next to him, her head propped on an elbow.

"Thank you very much. But seriously... it's just that I feel like between the day I left Tatooine and today... it's been just a moment. Do you know what I mean? In the last second, I was a farm boy and in the next, I'm a Jedi Master with two children and a wife.... Isn't that weird?"

Mara extended a hand and softly caressed his chin: "It's life, Luke. And shall I tell you something?" She bent low and kissed his lips: "You're not looking like fifty at all."

Her husband grinned, finally meeting her gaze straight on: "I'm not?"

"No, you're not. You're as gorgeous as always." And that, Mara mused, was absolutely true. Whereas he by far didn't look like twenty anymore, he didn't look like fifty either. Perhaps it was the Force, perhaps it was his life style, which was actually pretty healthy, if you neglected all the times he got shot at, tortured, blasted into space, stabbed by a knife or whatever the scum of the galaxy thought of at any given moment --- in any case, he looked quite ten years his own junior.

There were slight wrinkles, adorning the edges of his eyes, of his mouth... when he laughed, they suddenly kind of exploded on his clear skin. But they didn't make him seem old, just mature.
His body was the one of a young man... decades of training and atonement to the Force didn't leave him worried about loosing condition or strength or gaining weight. And that was a good thing.
"Oh?" The object of her pondering made, giving her a twinkling stare. "Do you want to say your love depends on my weight, Mistress Jade-Skywalker?"

"And what if?" she went along with his play.

"Then I'd be most disappointed."

She grinned, winking at him: "I'd even love you if you weighed as much as Han."

Both of them erupted into a laughing fit and it took some time until they had calmed down again. When they had, Luke's finger softly trailed down between her breasts just to her belly button, making her shiver although their skin was separated by the silken material of her nightgown.

"Do you know how much I LOVE this nightgown?" He murmured, softly drawing her into an embrace and nuzzling her ear.

"And that although it's quite old?"

"You wore it the day you told me you were pregnant with Ben." He murmured, caressing through her hair, his other hand playing up and down her back with a skill that was driving her crazy whenever he did so.

"You remember that?"

"I never forget a nightgown I love." His gorgeous face deadpan as he uttered that, Luke tenderly pecked her lips with his, drawing another chuckle out of her.

"Now, now, Skywalker. It's not yet your birthday. No way you're getting your present already today."
Giving her one of his most seductive smiles, he perched an eyebrow at his wife: "NO way?"
Mara adamantly shook her head, but didn't quite manage to persuade her body to leave the embrace of his well-muscled arms. As if they had a will of their own, her fingers were already busy discarding his robe and before she knew it, he lay before her clad only in his trousers. Which were, technically, a matter of seconds to get rid of.

In between fiery kisses and groans, Mara murmured: "I'll need a new present for tomorrow, then." Her mouth most determinedly wandered down his body, ravishing his chest and stomach, while her hands fumbled with the zipper of his trousers

"Nahhh, you just.... Good Gods," he gasped aloud in bliss when she slid his trousers off his body and proceeded upward once again to reclaim possession of his mouth.

"What?"

"You just need another nightgown. It makes for enough difference and..." he paused while she softly, delicately, settled on him, her fingertips lightly caressing around his nipples.

"And?"

"And the most wonderful present I can think of."

Mara just grinned, bending low to once again let her lips melt with his, deciding that for once, 3PO could put the kids to bed.

*~~

Unnoticed by either of them, a small figure slipped out of her hiding place behind the door and hurried back to her room, a huge grin on her beautiful, little face.

Half an hour later, after one of the more boring bedtime stories that seemed to be the only ones 3PO knew, Elora Skywalker snuggled into her pillow, her heart free and light. She finally had a present for her Daddy. And it would be the most wonderful present, indeed.

And the best thing was, she hadn't even had to ask Mommy.

Skywalker Apartment, The Next Morning

"But I want to wake up Daddy NOW."

The little boy stumped his right foot onto the floor, furiously staring up at the golden protocol droid that blocked the entrance to his parents' bedroom. Since his cousins Jacen, Jaina and Anakin were already grown-ups, so to speak, C-3PO now spent his days taking care of the Skywalker children whenever Leia didn't need his help with protocol during diplomatic meetings.

And ever since he was taking care of these children, C-3PO tried to ascertain which bunch of little humans had been worse - the Solo offspring or the Skywalker offspring.

Little Ben Skywalker reminded the protocol droid a lot of Anakin Solo, with the small, but significant difference that the Jedi Master's boy seemed to be a lot more mischievous than young Anakin had ever been.

Young Mistress Elora, on the other hand, seemed to be an angel to any outside spectator, but 3PO knew from experience that, once her wrath was awakened, every ounce of Mara Jade she had in her was fair and clear to see and feel for everyone - especially for him.

He well remembered the last time he had managed to somehow cross the little one's plans. A vicious attack with glue and paper had been the result, incapacitating his visual receptors for more than a day - until Master Luke had found the time to set him back into order. Albeit with a huge grin plastered on his face that 3PO had found very inappropriate.

However, to the golden droid's utter relief, Elora Skywalker obviously had decided that, this morning, storming into her beloved parents' bedroom was not what she had in mind. Surprising him with her good behaviour, she was busy putting dishes onto the kitchen table and checking on the food processor whenever she passed it.

Her brother, though, didn't seem to be inclined to behave himself at least half as well.
"Master Ben, don't you want to let your father sleep for as long as he desires on his birthday? If I may give my humble opinion, I think that this would be a very nice present indeed."
The blond haired boy pouted, shooting the protocol droid a sharp, suspicious glance, then shrugged. "Okay, I won't run in there."

Relief poured through 3PO's circuits. It was seldom that any of those kids listened to him and whenever it happened, he savoured it with a satisfaction unique for droids.

"Very well, Master Ben."

"You will." A smug grin plastered on the face that looked astonishingly like a very young version of his father's, Ben climbed one of the chairs that surrounded the kitchen table and crossed his small arms in front of his chest.

3PO froze: "Excuse me? Why should I do such a thing?"

"Because I...." The boy paused, thinking for a moment, then his grin broadened, "Because I hurt myself and I want Daddy to take care of it."

For a long while, the golden protocol droid stared at the six-year-old human, helplessly contemplating what to do. Mistress Elora had settled on another chair, watching the dispute with obvious interest through her jewel eyes. She doubtlessly knew whether her brother was lying or not. Yet, of course she would never tell him.

Although the Skywalker siblings NEVER seemed to agree on anything between the two of them, as soon as any outsider tried to make one of them do something they didn't want to do, they were fiercely loyal.

"I don't believe you, young man." 3PO finally said, hoping against hope to get out of the situation unscathed. True, he had been living with humans for a long, long time now, but some things still eluded him. One of them was the ability to tell a lie from the truth. He had no way of assuring Ben DIDN'T hurt. Unfortunately, Ben knew that, too.

"But you can't be sure." Satisfaction was evident on the handsome face of the child.
"The Maker safe me." The droid exclaimed, already turning and hurrying into the direction of the door to the bedroom of his Master and Mistress. Once his shuffled steps couldn't be heard anymore, Elora shook her head, golden locks flying wildly through the air.

"You were very bad to PO, Ben."

Her brother ignored her, speeding into his room and shortly thereafter returning with a package carefully wrapped into present paper in dark blue and violet colours, adorned with a silver ribbon.
Elora snorted: "Aunt Leia helped you again."

"She didn't."

"She did, too! You can't do beautiful things like that."

Ben simply huffed, putting the present in front of his father's dish. Taking a couple of steps backward, he critically surveyed the arrangement, then frowned and put the present on some other place.
While changing its spot again and again, carefully weighing in his child's mind what would look better to his Daddy, he glimpsed contemptuously over to his sister: "You're just jealous because you don't have anything for him."

A mysterious, little smile graced the full lips of the little girl as she jumped down from her chair and went over to the door that led out into the garden. Without a further word, she left the room to do whatever had come into her mind.

Ben followed her small form with his eyes for a while, pondering whether he should go investigate what his little sister had in mind. But no, he STILL had to find the perfect spot for his present.
Turning his back to the door, he resumed his experimentations, wondering amused whether his Mommy had already beheaded 3PO. He liked 3PO, a lot in fact, but he liked even more to have fun. And there was no droid with which you could have more fun than with 3PO.

*~~

"Uh, excuse me, Master Luke. Master Luke? Master Luuuke."

Wide-eyed, the Jedi Master sat straight up in bed, blinking puzzled into the golden, metallic face that hovered above him. His long-time, mechanic friend had assumed a posture that suggested he was worried and extremely embarrassed - in other words, a posture he practically always used.
"3PO! What are you doing here?"

"Well, Master Luke, Master Ben..." His explanations were interrupted by a long, comfortable yawn and soon after that, a very tousled redhead propped herself up on her elbows, glowering at the protocol droid.

Had he been able to, C-3PO would have swallowed hard.

"Good Morning, Mistress Mara."

She lifted one of her eyebrows, a gesture that spoke more than a thousand words. 3PO knew that he had, at best, about ten seconds to explain himself.

"Master Ben sent me to wake you because he has obviously hurt himself and wants you to check on it, Master Luke."

The Jedi Master just smiled, shaking his head while he swung his bare legs out of bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Mara's eyes narrowed to slits: "Out."

"But Mistress Mara, Master Ben said..."

"Now!"

3PO hurried out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him, barely hearing the chuckles that erupted from Luke Skywalker's mouth.

Turning and plopping onto his stomach, the farmboy-turned-Jedi grinned up at his wife: "You shouldn't frighten him like this. Some time, he's going to get a stroke."

The ex-Emperor's Hand snorted: "Skywalker, he's a droid. And an annoying one at that. At least your little garbage can has enough brains built in its circuits to recognise when one of our children is trying to take him for a fool."

Luke sighed, then rose and went over to the fresher, calling his sleeping pants to him with the Force in the process. "It's in his programming, love. Besides, you don't seriously believe that our children would have let us sleep any longer."

Mara smiled: "No, of course not."

It was kind of a tradition. At their parents' respective birthdays, the kids went absolutely hyper, for some weird reason. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Luke loved to give them sweets and play with them and generally spoil them at every birthday celebration of his. Not that he didn't ALWAYS spoil them.
"Oh please." The somewhat dulled, male voice of her love sounded from out of the shower, mixed with the noise of water splashing down. "As if you behaved any different on YOUR birthdays."

*~~

Luke was in an excellent mood when he entered the kitchen of their apartment. As he had expected, the table was already propped. Gentle, careful changes by his wife had actually resulted in the fact that there was everything where it should be - no caffeine spread over the butter, no pieces of bread in the marmalades and, best of all, no odour of burned blue milk anywhere.

His heart swelling with fatherly pride, he sat down on his place. Laid in a careful, if not perfectly round, circle around his glass, mug and dish were small, white flowers that abounded on their lawn in the garden.

Smiling lovingly, he extended a hand and caressed the silky cheek of his little princess. As much as he loved his son, his daughter held a special place in his heart.

Her adorable little face exploded into a huge smile at his touch and with an exited squeal, Elora jumped into his lap, swinging her short arms around his neck and smacking a thick, wet kiss onto his lips.
"Happy Birthday, Daddy."

Before he could answer, another bundle of energy assaulted his lap, hopping up and down on his leg and almost pounding a delicately wrapped present onto his nose. Avoiding getting hit as best he could, Luke drew his son into an embrace, not minding that the little boy shouted his birthday wishes into his ear at the top of his lungs.

"That's from me, Daddy." With a pointed look at his sister, Ben added: "Only from me."
Luke carefully sat his two children down onto the floor and proceeded to investigate his son's present. Doing an effort not to grin when he clearly recognised Leia's sense of colours and taste in the wrapping, he quickly laid bare a set of 24 small fighters and a freighter - 12 X-Wings, twelve TIE fighters and a Millenium Falcon. The metal was worked crudely, the painting being clear testimony to a six-year-old's handiwork.

"That's Rogue Squadron." Ben proudly declared, pointing at the Rebel Alliance squadron bearing overlarge red stripes on every possible place. One even had one smack dab on its cockpit, which consisted of something that looked suspiciously like a piece of glass.
"Now we can fly missions together." Blonde hair flew wildly while small hands drew patterns into the air, indicating what missions exactly where going through Ben Skywalker's head. "My squadron and yours will blast the Lusankya into oblivion. Kawoom!"

Luke laughed at that, shooting a quick glance over to his wife. Mara watched with a smile on her face, enjoying the display of family love in front of her and the marmalade bread she was chewing on.
To his last birthday, Han had gotten Ben a big replica of the Super Star Destroyer and explained to him in all detail how he could possibly make it 'go kawoom' with twelve little fighters. Figuring that it would be all the better to have 24 little fighters and his father - whom Ben considered to be quite the best pilot, Daddy and generally the best human being in the universe - the little boy had decided to venture into the profession of starship builder and re-create Yavin IV's Red Squadron.

He had gone to his Uncle Han for help, who had fruitlessly tried to explain the difference between Red Squadron and Rogue Squadron to the boy. But in the child's mind, the two were the same. With time, he would comprehend and until then, his childish enthusiasm wouldn't hurt those who very well remembered the difference. Thus reassured, Han had gladly helped his nephew.
"Oh yes, we most definitely will."

Seeing that his father liked his present, Ben climbed the chair on the right side of the Jedi Master, shooting another smug grin at his sister.

Luke pointedly ignored that. Since the first time his children had decided to give birthday presents to him, he had done his best to discourage any rivalry between them, carefully giving each child the same attention and assuring both of them that he loved their presents.

Two years ago, he had even endured the flower crown Elora had made for him, though he had felt more ridiculous than ever before in his life. The barely stifled laughter of his wife hadn't helped at all with that. But he couldn't possibly have crushed his little daughter's pride by taking the flowers off his head.
The Jedi Master really wouldn't mind it if his daughter hadn't come up with a birthday present for him. Every year, he told them both that they didn't need to give him presents, but they insisted on it.
"Don't you want to see my present, Daddy?" The small girl bounced up and down next to him, her beautiful, green eyes huge and gorgeous. They were the colour of her mother's. Elora was the most enchanting creature he had ever seen. Her delicate face bore Mara's beauty, while the thick locks clearly had their colour from her father.

Slightly pressing her hand, Luke nodded: "Of course, precious. Where is it?"

Elora grinned broadly, winking first at him, then at Mara. "In your room."
Luke looked surprised at his wife, but the ex-Emperor's Hand just shrugged ever so slightly. They would have both noticed when their daughter had hidden something there. Both Jedi found it highly improbably that the four-year-old girl could have managed to slip past their awareness only a single time.
"In my room?"

The Jedi child nodded determinedly, slipped out of her father's grasp and hurried to the bedroom door as fast as her short legs could carry her. "Come in a minute. I want to show you." She crowed, excitement radiating off from her as if she were one of Tatooine's double suns.
The moment she was gone, Luke's inquisitive, azure gaze zeroed in on Mara.
The redhead lifted both her hands defensively: "Don't look at me like this. I have nothing to do with it."
The Jedi Master frowned. "Ben?"

The little boy looked up from the little metal fighters, shrugged, then devoted his attention once again to the toys, clearly indicating that he didn't care for his sister's present.

Luke shook his head with a smile and rose. "Well, then I'll have to take a look myself."
Knowing that Mara would take care of his son and make the jealousy between the siblings vanish, Luke made his way over to the bedroom, pausing at the closed door. Still feeling his daughter's excitement all too distinctly through the Force, he decided to play along and knocked.
"May I come in, Princess?"

A delighted giggle sounded through the door, then: "Come in, Daddy, quick."
Luke obliged, opening the door.... And froze in dumbfounded surprise.
His daughter stood in the middle of his and Mara's bed, clothed in one of Mara's nightgowns. The golden negligee, made from Nubian silk, was of course much too large for her. Her small pyjama with the lilac flowers and fairies on it lay discarded on the floor, ignored while its owner made her way to the edge of the bed with all due care.

"Elora!" The Jedi Master panted, not quite knowing what he should make out of that. Catching onto his bewilderment through the Force, the radiant smile of the little girl fell.
"Don't you like it, Daddy?"

"I... I..." Finding no words, Luke could but stammer at his little girl. It was the first time in four years that he really couldn't tell what his daughter wanted to show him. It was clear that she had already "given" her present to him, but the helpless father couldn't yet fathom WHAT this present consisted of.
A small lower lip started to tremble while big eyes filled with tears and Luke's heart broke. No matter whether he understood the present or not, he couldn't just watch how his little precious cried.
With the sandy-brown mass of her hair spilling over the golden finery of the gown, she looked beautiful. Smiling ruefully, he took her into his arms, softly kissing her forehead and pressing her at himself. Her slender form fit seamlessly into his arms, the soft fabric of her clothing falling over his lap to the floor.
"Hey, my lovely, don't cry."

Sniffing miserably, she stared at him, her jade stare so sad that Luke felt bad, even if he didn't know what he had done wrong this time. Sometimes, it was so difficult to see into a child's mind.
"You didn't like my present." She whispered, her voice slightly quivering.
"Your present?"

"Yes. The gown." Furiously, the little girl ripped with her limited power on the silk that enwrapped her, trying to find a way to vent her frustration and sadness.

Luke frowned at her, doing his best to keep track of her reasoning. He admitted that so far, he didn't really succeed.

"But this gown belongs to your mother, Elora."

The blonde head below him nodded. "I know. But I'm wearing it."
"Well, of course, but..."

"Mommy can wear another one tonight. She has so many. And you didn't wish for a particular one. You just said another gown."

"I just said..." And amidst his repetition of his little girl's words, it clicked in Luke's brain. Feeling himself blanch, he stared open-mouthed at Elora.

The little girl sniffed once more, then focused on her Daddy once again, abandoning her task of disassembling the offending and disappointing cloth, as it didn't show any immediate success.
"You were so happy when Mommy wore the violet gown yesterday. I wanted to make you happy, too."
"Oh Elora!" Luke drew his daughter into a fierce hug, laughing and spluttering kisses onto the crown of her head. "My sweet, sweet Elora. The gown wasn't a present from Mommy for Daddy."
Irritated and befuddled, the blonde angel looked up at her father, incomprehension marring her childishly soft features. "It wasn't?"

"No, it wasn't."

Elora contemplated that for a moment, then her face fell once again. "Then I have no present at all for you. That's worse than a bad present."

"Oh no, my sweetest." Luke cupped her cheek with his large hand, smiling when she melted into his touch. "You have made me a wonderful present. You know what counts? The intention."
"Int... in what?"

The Jedi Master chuckled: "You wanted to make me very happy, with the gown, didn't you?"
Her features all serious, Elora nodded.

"See, and that is the most wonderful present of all. You made me happy by wanting to make me happy."
Understanding dawned in Elora's eyes and she started beaming: "So you liked my present."
"Yes, I did."

"Oh, Daddy, I'm so happy!" Flinging herself once again around his neck, she hugged him close, clinging firmly to his chest.

"Me, too, Princess, me, too."

For a long while, they stayed in the position, and Luke felt greatly relieved as he felt his daughter's mood brighten with every moment. Looking up, he met the gaze of his wife, who stood in the doorframe, watching with a smile on her face. When he nodded, she turned to go back to Ben.
Elora suddenly shifted, curiosity shining in her gaze. "Daddy?"
"Hmm?"

"Mommy gave you her present already, didn't she?"
Luke smirked. "Yes."

"Was it what you did yesterday evening?"

The Jedi Master and hero of the Alliance and New Republic felt his jaw hit the floor, and saw how Mara stopped dead track and turned back to him and Elora.

"What..." Luke cleared his throat. "What do you mean, Princess?"

"Well, what you did. You..." Frowning in concentration, the four-year-old searched for the right word in her limited vocabulary. "You cuddled. And you had no clothes on."
-Force, Mara! -

-I've been telling you for months we needd tto lock our room. -
-Don't give me that talk again. Rather teelll me what I shall tell HER! -
-She did ask YOU, Skywalker, didn't she? -

-Mara! -

Meanwhile, the Jedi Master sounded definitely horrified. His wife chuckled amused.
-Do something for your present, my love. Iff you search for me, I'm in the kitchen. -
And gone she was, leaving one very disturbed and baffled Jedi Master behind, who felt quite pinned under the curious, relentless gaze of his beloved daughter.
"Daddy!" Battling her small fists onto his chest for attention, Elora dragged him out of his slight daze.
"Hu?"

"Why do you cuddle without clothes with Mommy? Aren't you getting cold?"
Luke opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. What should he tell her? Whereas he had assumed that SOME DAY, this talk would be called for, he hardly considered a four-year-old, innocent little girl mature enough to learn about sexuality.

Force, however could he have overlooked her yesterday evening? She must have hid behind the door. And he had been that preoccupied with his gorgeous wife that he had completely missed the excited presence of his daughter.

Clearing his throat once again, he struggled for words. "You know, loveliest, Mommy and I we... we actually don't get cold, no."

The girl considered that. "So you did it to get warm?"
"Um... no."

-Quite a progress you do, my love. -

-Do it better, Mara. -

Elora frowned - she looked adorable when she did that. "So, why did you do it?"
"Well, darling, you know.... Mommy and Daddy did that because they like each other a lot. That's the way Mommies and Daddies show each other that they love each other."
"By cuddling?"

Luke, feeling extremely relieved and pretty smug for having found such a fine explanation, nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, exactly."

Instead of clearing up in understanding and acceptation, Elora's face was once again clouded in frustration and Luke felt his exhilaration evaporate faster than a droplet of water in the midday sun in the Jundland Wastes.

"So, why do you cuddle without clothes in the evening and with clothes during the day?"
"Well, because..."

"It looks so funny when you do that."

Luke stopped, dumbfounded. "What?"

"It looks funny. And then you hop up and down on the bed. You always tell me I mustn't do that. Why can you do it and I cannot?"

"Well, because... we are grown-ups and you're not."

Finally, the little girl brightened fully: "So that means if I'm grown-up, I may do that, too?"
"What?"

"Cuddling without clothes and hopping up and down on the bed. It looks like fun. Funny fun." She smiled delighted, merging against his chest, resting her cheek on his shoulder and looking up at him with trusty eyes.

Luke thanked the Force that she was too young to fully understand what was going on and to notice or care about nudeness at all. He most definitely needed to think about a lock for the door. He didn't feel comfortable with the thought that his little precious could watch him and Mara during their most private hours.

"Well, when you're older and find someone you really love." He relented, rocking her back and forth softly.

"How much older?"

Luke stared deeply into the jewel-like orbs of his youngest, terrifying images of adolescent boys materializing in front of his mental eye. Adolescent boys lusting after his adorable daughter, having only one thing in mind.

"A lot older." He murmured

"Daddy, you know what?"

"What?"

"I never ever want to cuddle with anyone but you."

The Jedi Master smiled broadly at that, pressing his daughter closer at himself. Force bless the innocence of his little girl. It prevented him from a talk he really didn't plan to have with her until she was sixteen. Or perhaps eighteen. Or maybe only when she was twenty-one. Yes, that'd be early enough for his little girl to know about that kind of thing.

"Let's get back to Mommy and Ben now, okay?"

"Okay."

After quickly helping his daughter to change back into her pyjama, he scooped her up into his arms and they returned into the kitchen. After all, he still hadn't had his breakfast and he knew his little one was hungry, too.

"Did she give you her present?" A very curious Ben gave his sister a suspicious look.
Elora stuck her tongue out at the boy. "I did give Daddy the bestest present ever. Right, Daddy?"
Luke grinned, pecking her softly on her cheek. "Yes. The bestest present ever."

Sending out a tendril of the Force, the Jedi Master felt his son grasp it with his own, fledgling abilities. Assuring the six-year-old thus that he had loved his present, too, and that his little sister would be terribly disappointed if he started picking on her now.

Smiling softly, Ben refocused on the starfighters- his own and the ones he had given his father - which he had carefully arrayed on floor in front of the kitchen table.
"Are we playing space battle after breakfast, Daddy?"
"Sure. What battle?"

"Rescue the Princess!" Elora squealed, referring to her most favourite play in which her Daddy, naturally, had to rescue her, while her brother played Uncle Han and Mommy just sat on and laughed. Mostly about Daddy. Daddy was a lot of fun to play with.

While her Daddy sat her back onto a chair next to him and everyone finally started having breakfast, the world was once again perfect for Elora Skywalker.
~FINIS~