IT NEVER HURTS TO DREAM
by Michele
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All these wonderful characters belong to George Lucas. No Imperial or Republic credits are being made off this story. My apologies to Timothy Zahn if this is not what he had in mind to explain L&M's behavior.
Summary: This is just one possible scenario of what might have occurred between The Corellian Trilogy, where Mara and Luke have a purely platonic relationship, and the beginning of Specter of the Past, where ... well, see for yourself:
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(Specter of the Past, p. 24-25)
There was a brief silence from the other end. "You didn't say that like you meant it," Han suggested. "Trouble?"
"No, not really," Luke said, wishing now he'd kept quiet. "It's just – no, nothing."
"Let me guess. Mara?"
Luke grimaced. "It's nothing, Han. Okay? Just let it go."
_______________________________________________________________________
A Jedi Master should be better at hiding his emotions, Luke Skywalker reflected later. His edgy, defensive reply to Han was far from masterful. At least Han hadn't pushed the matter. Did his brother-in-law somehow suspect where Luke's thoughts had been swirling lately – besides his obsession with how much he was using the Force, that is? But no, if Han had any inkling, he would've been much more relentless in his teasing. Yet all it had taken was the hint of a name to bring crashing back all the bewildering sensations Luke couldn't begin to squelch.
Mara ...
It had been months since he'd last seen her – at one of the many receptions celebrating some trade agreement or another that Karrde's organization had had a hand in. Luke had caught a glimpse of Mara across the room, looking elegant as always. She'd glanced his way, a look of apprehension on her face, before she'd been called to rejoin the conversation of her companions. When Luke had searched for her later, she'd disappeared, and he had reluctantly decided it would be best if he didn't track her down with the Force.
It had been nearly a year, however, since Luke had actually spoken with her – since a few days after the end of the conflict in the Corellian Sector. But in all that time, Luke's confusion over what exactly had happened between them hadn't lessened a bit. He remembered it as if it were yesterday ...
* * * * * *
Arms resting on drawn-up knees, chin resting on crossed arms, Luke Skywalker sat on the back stoop of an outbuilding of Duchess Marcha's villa. Ostensibly, he was there to keep an eye on Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin as they played in an open field while Han and Leia discussed some final political details with the Duchess and her nephew. But Luke's mind kept drifting to the recent battle, turning over and over all the things he might have done differently, wished he'd done differently ...
"Hey, Skywalker."
Luke jolted, berating himself for being so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't sensed anyone coming. "Hi, Mara."
Not waiting for an invitation, Mara Jade sat down next to him on the duracrete steps. "I'm, uh, sorry about the Bakuran woman."
"Gaeriel. Her name was Gaeriel."
"Yeah, well. I'm sorry that she didn't make it."
Luke nodded in mute thanks.
"Someone said she left a child."
"Yes, she did," Luke said remotely, his mind shifting, as it had all day, to the wide-eyed little girl. "Malinza." He glanced at Mara briefly, then turned back to staring out at the horizon. "She's only four, and she's already lost her father. She asked me ... Before we left ... She asked me to promise that I'd take care of her mommy."
"I hope you had enough sense not to make a promise like that."
"Mara ..."
"Sorry," she said. Luke actually thought he detected genuine contriteness in her tone.
The haunting thing was, Luke reflected, was that he did try to sidestep making that promise to Malinza. Had he had a premonition, without really realizing it, that something would happen to Gaeriel?
"I'm sure someone will take care of the girl."
"It's not the same," Luke murmured, thinking of his own upbringing. "Children should be raised by their parents."
"In a perfect galaxy, maybe they always would be," Mara said evenly. She fell silent, then surprisingly reached over and lightly clasped one of Luke's hands. "I don't think I could do it."
"Do what?" Luke said, trying not to reveal how comforting Mara's touch felt.
"Have a family."
"Most people feel it's worth the risk." He gazed out at Leia's children, tossing a large ball at each other in the distance.
"But for you? Would it be worth the risk for you?"
Luke shook his head slowly. "I don't think it's in the stars for me. Every time I care about someone, something terrible happens to them. Jem died ... Callista lost her powers ... Now Gaeriel died ..."
"Callista should've died before you were ever born. Gaeriel knew the dangers of war. She participated willingly. You are not responsible for anyone's fate but your own." She narrowed her eyes at Luke, and he knew he must have looked stricken. "If you wanted sympathy, you came to the wrong person."
"You came to me," Luke snapped back, harsher than he intended. He couldn't believe it when Mara didn't jump up and storm off. Instead, she gripped his hand tighter and grunted quietly under her breath.
"I don't think either one of us is cut out for marriage and a family," Mara finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had descended on them.
"Maybe," Luke murmured, gazing once more at the carefree children. "But it never hurts to dream."
After Callista had left him, Luke had steadfastly refused to consider the possibility of another close relationship with anyone. He'd resigned himself to living with the loneliness and emptiness that shadowed his every step. And he'd done his best to bat away the nagging little voice that asked 'But what about Mara Jade?'
Luke's mind flashed to how he had just finished gallivanting all over the galaxy to help Lando find a wife. He'd never let on to anyone the flip-flop of relief he'd felt that Mara was nowhere on Lando's list of possibilities.
"That's right," Mara said, her voice curiously soft. "I'd nearly forgotten what a dreamer you are."
Luke turned to look at her, startled to find her face mere centimeters from his own. "What's wrong with having dreams?" he murmured.
"Nothing," Mara breathed. Luke felt himself staring at her lips a few moments longer than was probably considered proper. For some insane reason, he had the feeling that Mara didn't mind. In fact, she seemed to be leaning even closer to him. Surely he was imagining things. Luke had always figured Mara would rather slit her own throat before she'd think of him in a desirous light.
Maybe he'd been wrong.
"I've always found it one of your more ... charming ... qualities."
Luke's eyes slowly shifted from Mara's mouth to her eyes. Her sparkling emerald eyes. Charming? Did she just call him charming? Maybe he needed a medical checkup. He was hallucinating. Maybe Mara needed a medical checkup.
"Uh ..." Luke stammered, hoping that Mara wouldn't notice his shallow breathing and rapid heartbeat. He didn't dare try to broach her mental shields to find out what she was thinking. "You have lots of ... uh ... charming qualities, too." What an idiotic thing to say. She still hadn't pulled back. Any moment he expected her to twist his arm around in a viselike hold.
Mara's lips parted slightly, but she didn't reply. It was as if she were waiting for something. Waiting for him to do something. Luke blinked when she suddenly sent a sensation of impatience through the Force. Was she actually suggesting ...?
What was there to lose? She'd pounded him for a lot less in the past.
Luke closed the miniscule gap between them, letting his eyes drift shut as his mouth drifted opened. She was so close he could feel her warm breath, could sense her tense muscles, could—
Whamp!
Luke jerked backward. Had she hit him after all? But no, Mara looked just as shocked as he was. It was only when the sound of running feet met their ears that both of them looked down to see the large polyreen ball lying on the grass next to them.
"Uncle Luke!" came Anakin's shrill squeal. "We didn't mean to hit it this way."
"Yeah, sorry, Uncle Luke," Jaina added, running up to join her brother. She started giggling when she noticed the still-clasped hands of her uncle and his companion.
It occurred to Luke that Mara's dark expression was more a result of horror at what they'd nearly done as it was frustration that they'd been interrupted. She let go of his hand as though she'd been burned, and quickly sprang to her feet. Arms that had been empty for years were suddenly empty once more.
"I have to go ... go check on my ship," Mara stammered, her flashing eyes daring him to stop her. She swiftly turned, and Luke silently watched her retreating back.
Maybe some things weren't meant to be dreamt of, after all.