Star Wars #20 preview
ART BY Mike Mayhew
owen lars
STAR WARS: REVENGE OF THE SITH 3D ARTIST RETURNS
“Dearest Leia” and “Dearest Luke”
Individual pieces depicting the ending of Revenge of the Sith, with Padme & Anakin’s children in the arms of their respective adoptive parents.
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Original pieces available at my Artfire Store
I headcanon that on Tatooine small families are the norm. With food and water and well, anything that isn’t sand being scarce having to provide for more than three or four people at a time would be a nightmare. So the women of the desert have passed down a wealth of contraceptive recipes and techniques from generation to generation.
When Beru and Owen Lars accepted the son of a man they’d met once, they knew that this was it. The only child they would ever raise. They could tell themselves sweet lies about how maybe the harvests would be plentiful for the next few years and they could get by, but they are children of the desert. They cannot refuse reality in a place as harsh as the desert. It would only serve to drive them mad or make them suffer. They could have said no. They didn’t really know his father and they know the danger will be great. They could have said no. They want their own baby and cannot have two. They could have said no. But how could they refuse the grandson of the woman they loved so much? They could have said no. But there he is, small and beautiful and helpless and in need of a loving home. So they accept him knowing that he is the only son they shall ever have. They love him as the only son they will ever have. And he loves them dearly.
Luke and Uncle Owen never got to make up to one another after having their dinner table fight
*flies off into the distance*
You won’t get away that easily. *snags you by the hoodie*
At last, the stars he beheld were not the same as those he’d gazed at his entire life. New constellations sprawled across his sight, their siren call beckoning him more strongly than ever. Yet even as he’d lain in the sand staring up at them night after night in silence both wistful and awestruck, content in his brief, peaceful solitude, he’d never thought there would come a day when he would have to watch them alone.
“Looks like I’m going somewhere after all,” Luke whispered, eyes fixed upon the heavens above his cockpit canopy.
But I didn’t know it would be without you. Not like this.
His throat ached sharply and his gloved hand tightened around the control stick. If only he’d known that it was going to be their last meal, their last words. His dreams were coming true and he could not share them, or put them aside just for a day to realize what he already had, and what they had done for him. Medallions and kill markers and effusive praise couldn’t bring back his aunt’s warm smile and gentle encouragement, or his uncle’s sage advice and hard-earned approval that somehow felt so much less hollow.
Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
A concerned warble broke through the cloud of his sudden grief. “What?” Blinking hard, Luke glanced at the translation on his screen. “Oh, I’m…um, I was…just thinking. Sorry. We clear for takeoff?”
Behind him, R2 beeped an affirmative, but wasn’t satisfied. “I’m…” Luke breathed out slowly, letting himself soak in the piercing whine of snubfighter engines idling in the warm night air. An evacuation wasn’t the time to lose himself. “I’m not okay,” he finally admitted to the droid’s persistent questioning. “But I have to be. Maybe I’ll tell you later.” It was going to be a long, lonely flight anyway, his first through hyperspace on his own.
Corralling his mind back to the present, Luke activated the repulsors and eased the fighter forward as Commander Narra’s voice crackled across the comm, reminding their squadron of their flight orders. The night sky grew darker still as he climbed and the stars sharpened to razor-edged diamonds, glittering promise and drawing blood.
Aunt Beru had spoken many times of the bonds between spirit and flesh, woven of love, trust, and wisdom, not forged from the iron of slavery. The veil between the living and the dead, she had said, was far thinner than one would think. If the Force bound all living things, Luke wondered, perhaps there was a way.
If you can hear me, his heart cast out, please forgive me. I love you. And I will fight for you, until my last breath. If I see you again, I hope you’ll receive me with open arms.
With the touch of a lever, the brilliant maw of hyperspace erased the stars and consumed his ship.
knbi:
(｡☉౪ ⊙｡) stop I can’t handle.
Despite his always being in opposition to Obi-Wan and, you know, emotionally devastating him more, I do appreciate that Owen was basically Luke’s father at this point and just wanted to keep him safe
Anakin-and-Padme-raise-the-twins AUs are great but
- please don’t forget about Bail and Breha and Owen and Beru
- they’re the ones who taught Luke and Leia about bravery and kindness and generosity and heroism
- they’re the ones who bandaged their skinned knees, helped them with their homework, punished them, and worried about them
- both sets of caregivers had to deal with pre-teen brattiness (I dare you to picture 12-year-old Leia sneering at you and thinking you’re uncool – now imagine seeing that EVERY DAY and tell me Breha didn’t deserve a medal)
- they’re the ones who gave them the “we’re not your biological parents” talk, and both talks must have been so difficult for each family for their own reasons
- if you’re a Legends fan and consider B&B’s infertility and miscarriage issues, jfc, can you imagine how extra precious Leia must have been to them?
- how long had they been planning on adopting a baby girl? were they waiting for the war to end? or had they just decided on adoption, but never imagined they’d get a daughter this quickly?
- if Owen and Beru never wanted children, can you imagine how much they must have loved Luke to take him in?
- (OWEN’S ENTIRE MOTIVATION IN ANH IS TO PROTECT LUKE AND KEEP HIM AWAY FROM IMPERIAL INFLUENCES AND THAT WAS HIS /BOY/ and if you think Owen was “too mean” or ever resented Luke, please come and fight me)
- (because haha okay yeah what kind of world is this where fic writers interpret “please Luke don’t move out even though we’re poor farmers and you’re an adult and you’re not our son and feeding you is probably very expensive” as “Owen Lars is an abusive asshole”)
- all four of them are so ignored when it comes to Luke and Leia’s characterizations
- Bail has a good amount of spotlight, but he’s always a Senator and we’ve only seen him as a parent for three seconds
- please remember them and what they did
Luke and Uncle Owen never got to make up to one another after having their dinner table fight
*flies off into the distance*
good. fuck uncle owen.
Or…not? Because Owen was a man who worked hard all of his life in very harsh conditions and never complained. When his step-brother shows up out of the blue one day he shows kindness and hospitality – he returns Threepio to him and asks for nothing in return, even though on a small, poor farm every extra droid makes a difference.
He’s a man who took in a boy with no blood relation to him, and likely sacrificed the possibility of having his own children so that they could care for him. He knew that this put him and Beru in terrible danger from the Empire, but did it without a second thought. They kept Luke fed, clothed, well cared for and loved nineteen years, and played a huge part in shaping the man he would become. They honoured him with the name of his grandmother.
He died protecting Luke with his very last breath, like he had protected him all his life. Owen taught Luke about hard work and responsibility, he taught Luke about loyalty and the honour of a simple life.
Owen Lars does not deserve any hate.
The Larses deserve so much more credit than they get.
