Chapter Text
A shuddering breath broke from Luke’s lungs.
It rose in gentle wisps, pale against the chilling blue of the morning sky. Wind swept the hair from his face, carrying the scent of salt and stone. The oxygen seeped down into his lungs, his blood, his very matter.
The Force came with it. Warm as the first rays of sunlight stubbornly pushing past the horizon; bright as the rain beading every blade of grass, solid and strong as the stone where he sat, facing the day and everything there was to come.
Every morning, he awoke, and it was still with him.
Slowly, he relaxed his muscles from the stiff stance of meditation, held rigid for hours.
“You ought to bring a blanket with you tonight. I lived long enough to know what the chill does to old bones.”
Luke managed a laugh, though it came out rough and gritted. “I’ll keep that in mind, Obi-Wan. I’d apologize that you were sent, but I don’t suppose spirits are much bothered by the cold.”
“No apology needed. It’s always a pleasure to visit an old friend.” Obi-Wan moved forward, settling down on the cliff beside him. His robes shifted, but they made no sound, not as the wind blew through them, nor when he dropped into the mirror image of the stance Luke himself sat in.
Luke spared a glance over, smirking. “Look who you’re calling old.” He huffed. No matter how many years passed, Old Obi-Wan still looked how he always had; neatly trimmed white hair, creased skin, and clear blue eyes that seemed to have seen it all. Except for the aura around his figure, he hadn’t changed a bit from when Luke had met him.
“You.” Obi-Wan shot back, dryly. “I’m aware you aren’t in possession of many mirrors, but surely you’ve noticed that you’ve been graying.”
“It’s hardly been noticeable.” Luke scratched his chin, grinning.
There were words hovering on Obi-Wan’s tongue. A message from the Light, or perhaps some wisdom he saw fit to bestow. Luke didn’t try to pry it from him.
The wind was settling from the night, quieting its restless howl through the rocky shores of the island. The suns shone, warm and butter-yellow against the blue. He nearly chuckled to himself. Luke doubted most Jedi Masters pondered breakfast during their morning meditations, but he supposed he wasn’t like most. In his visits, Master Windu reminded him of that, often.
“You have served the Light well.”
Luke stiffened at the careful tone in Obi-Wan’s voice. It was soft with care, diplomacy.
Pity.
“Your vote of confidence is appreciated.” Luke waved his hand breezily, not caring to move it away from Obi-Wan’s head. His fingers buzzed softly as he moved them through the pure, concentrated Force, but the only thing that changed was Obi-Wan’s tone.
“Feigned ignorance does not suit a Jedi Master.”
“If the Light wants me to give in, it will tell me, or withdraw its power to do my duty. Seeing as neither has happened and you are speaking from your own biases, I will choose to remain here. Creaky bones and all.”
“That isn’t what I mean.” Obi-Wan sighed. “I’m not telling you to stop. I’m reminding you that time is fleeing. And when it comes time to pass on your duty--”
“It will not fall to her.” Luke spoke, cool and firm. “I will not pass on a legacy of solitude and isolation. I was given the gift of a long life with those I love before this place. She has had little in the way of life, and I will not take the decades she has left.”
Silence stretched across the hill. For a moment, Luke through the old spirit had left. Then, in tones heavy with regret, Obi-Wan spoke.
“The galaxy may not have another choice.”