The Greatest Kind of Love

Part One: Betrayal

He lay half-dead and in more pain than he’d ever known existed. But at least the mask wasn’t there.

Luke could barely move and had no particular desire to do so, except when his word bound him to it. And even that grew harder and harder as time crawled by, so hard that he could not hold back his tears or hold back the cries of pain that so often emerged. The pain was so much, and he grew weaker and weaker as the days passed. The door opened.

Not really curious, but wanting to know what would come, he forced his eyes open, his vision blurry and coated with a whitish film. It did not clear, but little by slowly he could see a shape… Red hair?

That could only be one person.

"Mara…?" he whispered hoarsely, unable – and unwilling – to check the relief flowing through him. He almost feared the pain by now, yet he refused to let himself. But she would never hurt him.

There was a blur…then he cried out softly as a boot contacted with his ruined face. Luke felt the tears flooding down his cheeks as he tried to open his eyes again to look at her. It was Mara.

Then why had she…?

"Ma-ra?" he whispered again, feeling so shocked, so empty…knowing that this must be a nightmare, must not be real…

He was grabbed by the hair and his head lifted – he cried out softly because of the pain – and his face was slammed hard down into the floor. Luke sobbed once, in pain and surprise, as she spoke. "Don’t ever speak to me again," she hissed.

But it was her voice, her touch, it was her, and she was hurting him!

"…wh-at…? you..do-" He cut off in a sob as she jerked the barbed wire lacing his face tighter, and it hurt so much. He didn’t understand what she was doing, why she was –

Then it was yanked again and again, and he sobbed helplessly, trying to speak but unable to through the pain. There was a pause, one merciful pause, and he forced the words from his bleeding mouth. "Mara… I-t… hur-ts…"

A final yank and the tears in his eyes spilled over. "Good," she said coldly, and he sensed her release the wire. What did she say?

No…

"Mar-" Then her hands were on his face and he cried out, almost a wail of pain. Sobs and coughs mixed in with his cries and he tried to pull away from her, because she must not have known what she was doing to him… But her hands tightened and squeezed his bleeding face, his shattered skull. The pain stopped his breathing for a moment, but he still pushed the words out.

"Ma..rraa…. it…hurts…" Luke choked. It was almost a plea. How could she do this to him?

The blow came fast and hard. "Shut up." For a moment, Luke was silent from his shock and her cruelty. She can’t realize what’s she’s doing… She wouldn’t do this! He had to try, had to get through to her. What would she feel, when she realized this?

What if she doesn’t care? What if she wants to do this?

No!

"Mara…" Skies, how it hurt to speak. "Don…t…"

He could no longer see through his tears, but still he heard her mocking reply. "Don’t what?" she asked.

Why was she mocking him? Why was she doing this? "Fa…fa-ce…" he whimpered.

"What about it?" she asked innocently, and something inside him tore as the words came out.

"Hu-rtss.." He winced as her hands moved.

"It does?" Luke whimpered weakly as Mara dug her nails into his face. "Does it now?"

He could barely hear her through the pain. Luke slumped, weakly, whimpering but one time, for once again, the pain was taking control. Then she did it again, and agony pounded though his skull. "Hur-tss…" he repeated, quickly loosing the little strength he had left.

"That’s good," she whispered soothingly, and her tone caught him off guard. It was different…maybe he’d heard her wrong. A spark of hope returned as one of her hands left her face.

"Mar..ra?" he whispered hoarsely, hoping feverishly that it had been just some unreal hallucination.

"Yes?" she asked gently. His heart leapt. He had been wrong. It wasn’t real…

Then cold metal touched his face. "No!" he sobbed, pulling back, jerking away. Fear cleared his vision momentarily, and he saw the mask moving toward him. Mara grabbed him, brutally holding him still. Then he saw the mask moving closer and closer, and he panicked, fighting her with all his waning strength. "Ple-ase…don’t…" he sobbed, pleading for the first time in his life. "Pl-easee… no…"

But Mara just smiled and the mask kept coming. "Mara!" he pleaded. Then she hit him with the mask, and everything went black. He could no longer see, but Luke knew it was still coming. He tried desperately to move, but his body refused to.

"Stay still," she hissed, and when nothing else had been able to, Mara’s cold voice made him freeze. Somehow he sensed her moving the mask closer again, and he shrank back, trembling uncontrollably with fear. But a part of him still refused to believe it. "Pl-ease..don..t… Mara," he whispered weakly. "Th-at…hurtss… so… mu-chhh…"

The mask closed on his face and she leaned close to him. "But I want to hurt you, Luke," she said softly, pulling it tight and into place.

What…? Why…? No… Shock and disbelief tore into him, and such a feeling of betrayal. He loved her – he’d thought she loved him – how could she do this? How could she hurt him so much? She was the one who had made him promise – promise her! – that he wouldn’t die this way. He loved her.

It tightened again and he sobbed weakly, feeling defeated, feeling lost, for the first time in his life.

***Seven years later***

He could never get in enough air. He could not move, except when his fear overrode his weaknesses. His thoughts were always scattered, never clear. His body was not only weak and was not only dying – it was dead. He would have screamed when someone touched him, if he could have, or if he’d not been so afraid of what would happen if he did.

The mask dug so deeply into his face – but it was so destroyed that it could not even be called a face anymore, and he could not even be called human anymore. He was in a condition that the human body could not reach, because it would die first. Barbed wire was bound tightly into him, but his body hardly bled anymore. There was no blood left to bleed. Everything and anything anyone could do to him hurt. The pain was too much.

He wanted to die.

He didn’t have any reason to live; he didn’t even remember why he’d lived so long. She was there, but not there for him; she was torturing him. And she’d killed his love. She’d killed his hope. He had nothing left. He’d come there for her, to save her life, to save the one love he’d ever really known. But now she was with Palpatine, and she hurt him, too.

He’d never regret it. He still loved her, and he knew he always would, because he was a man whom loved truly but once, and when he did, it would never die. But it was a hopeless love, because she’d never return it again. He knew she would always torture him. And his love could never erase his fear.

He had nothing left – she was gone to him forever, now – and no reason to go on. There was now nothing to his life but pain. And sorrow. And despair.

He wanted more, even though he knew he was a slave with no wants or needs. But he did want something more, though it was not much. He just didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to die alone. He needed someone – anyone – that wouldn’t hurt him, that might comfort him, even for just a moment. But it was a useless dream. Everyone hurt him.

Luke was standing. He didn’t know how; he was just doing it, because he’d be hurt if he didn’t. He didn’t want to be hurt anymore. He just wanted the pain to end.

Then the mask tightened, and he almost fainted from the agony. It just hurt so much… Then her voice came, and he almost started to cry because it was her again, it was Mara; she was hurting him…

"Let’s see what you look like without the mask on," she whispered.

He tensed in fear. They had not removed the mask in over three years, and though it hurt so much, he was so afraid of it being removed. The spikes tormented his face, but the air hurt almost more, and anyone’s touch – no matter how light – was so much worse… Luke started to cry. She was going to do it; she was going to hurt him…

The mask was pulled off, and he almost fell. It hurts… He almost wanted to plead, but he knew she would never listen and would never lessen the pain. And she would only hurt him for his disobedience, because he’d been trained not to plead; he’d been trained never to show the fear or the pain. Her hands touched his cheeks, jerking his chin up, and even his fear could no longer keep him on his feet.

After two years of standing, Luke Skywalker collapsed to the floor.

But her hands stayed on his face. "Are you crying?" she asked.

He tried to speak – knowing she knew the answer and would hurt him for it – but no words would come. He couldn’t talk; only blood came up.

"You are crying."

The tears came harder because he didn’t know what she would do to him. The trembling he’d held back for so long resurfaced, and he lay at her feet, cowering because he just wanted the pain to end.

She hit him, and he blacked out.

It should have killed him. He didn’t know that he’d been unconscious for two hours, but when he awoke he prayed she wasn’t there. Then Luke felt the pain and realized where he was.

A whimper of fear escaped him. It was worse than the mask; it was worse than her touch – she was going to rip him out. He started crying again.

Her voice floated up to him. "Be silent, slave," she ordered, but Luke couldn’t stop his tears. He knew how much it was going to hurt. It would rip into his face, and his skull was all ready shattered. It would tear his head apart… It hurts…

The mask tightened further, and he moaned miserably in anguish. Then it tightened again, and again, and again… "I told you to be silent," she said coldly. But he barely heard her through the pain. Then he felt such horrible agony as a spike touched his brain… He whimpered but once – it was all he could do.

Again, her words reached him. "Do you want me to turn it on?" Mara inquired.

"N-oooo!" he gasped weakly, almost before he knew that he was speaking. He wanted to beg, to plead, even if she wouldn’t listen; he would do anything, anything to avoid that, to avoid that pain in face, in his head, in his skull. He didn’t want the spikes to start twisting, to start turning, with the smaller spikes on them ripping into his skull. He tried to whisper a plea, but his body wouldn’t let him. He was so afraid.

"Then stop crying," she demanded.

Frantically, feverishly, he fought to stop his anguished tears. Finally, despite the pain, he did stop them, relief washing though his body. He’d done it. She wouldn’t turn it on…

"Good slave," she whispered. "But you still must be punished."

The mask turned on, and he gasped in agony and surprise as so much pain ripped into his skull. But…she…said she…wouldn’t…. his mind objected. She said…she wouldn’t…

Then the chain started to jerk him up and down, and he hung helplessly, pain lashing into his face and his skull. He had no strength – he couldn’t even cry. But amid the pain he felt such despair because she’d lied to him again; she’d offered him a chance then taken it away… But he was her slave, after all. He deserved it, and she could do whatever she wanted to him. He was her toy.

She kept the mask turned on, kept tightening it, and pain bled into gray dizziness, until he was no longer aware of his surroundings. He was only aware of the pain, but he still did not cry, even though it might have offered him a moment’s respite. No relief was worth more pain. It didn’t matter anyway. No one cared about him, and he was only a toy. He existed for the pleasure of others, so that they might enjoy his pain. It didn’t matter that he was enduring torture like no other had ever endured before. They wanted him to suffer, and they enjoyed it. He didn’t have feelings.

It took twenty minutes for the first rip to happen, but by then he couldn’t make a sound. It hurtssss… Pain tore through him and the spikes kept turning.

Three hours later, and four rips more, he was almost out. The pain kept him awake, and only the tightness of the mask prevented him from dropping to the floor. He’d never been in so much agony before, but he doubted she would have cared if she’d known that two spikes were digging into the left side of his brain. They knew he’d live, because he’d given his word to, a long time ago, to someone who had once loved him back.

Why didn’t he just die? She wouldn’t care, unless she was disappointed that she wouldn’t get to "play" with him any more. But a part of him still clung to his promise. It was the only humanity he had left.

Suddenly, he felt terrible pain, and he screamed from it, a tormented, uncontrolled scream of agony. It hurts… It hurts…it hurts…! Hurts…

His body started jerking as the chain yanked. The spikes had ripped out of his skull, all but one that dug completely into his brain. And his weight hung from that one spike. Tears filled his eyes.

But suddenly, with the mask still on, he hit the floor. His body still jerking violently, and the tears finally began streaming silently down his face. He’d never known pain like this before… Then he was lifted, dragged, secured to a table, the chains so tight that his body could no longer jerk from the agony. He was totally immobilized, held still by force, and all he felt then was the overwhelming pain in his skull. The spike was still twisting, it was twisting, it was twisting in his brain…

Even Mara couldn’t leave him like that. She had to feel something, something for what they’d had, something, anything, so that she wouldn’t make him go through this. She always hurt him, but this was beyond pain…

"plll-e-a-ssssee… ma-kee…i-t…..ssttt-tt-oppp…." he whispered through the agony.

"No." She forced the mask on the rest of the way.

Luke never pleaded for anything again.

"It’s okay, Luke," she whispered gently, and for the first time in forever, he felt gentleness, kindness, and love. He let go, sobbing in her arms, so relieved that it was over…

Not twenty minutes later, she was beating him again. His trust, so readily given through his unconditional love for her, was shattered once more; this time, permanently, for it was not the first time she would do this. Nor was it the last.

***5 decades later – in another place***

On the bridge of the Universal Voyager, Leia Organa Solo heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, the time was over, and she could get her brother back. For her, it had only been a little over a year since Luke had sacrificed himself for Mara, but she knew that, for Luke, it had been much longer.

She didn’t know what had happened to Mara. Luke had left, but Mara had never returned. She’s probably somewhere out here, having been waiting for the very same day I have to come. We’ll probably meet her there when we try to get Luke out. Leia smiled despite herself. Yes, that would be like Mara.

The Voyager’s navigator called out, "Reversion in five, four, three, two, one… We are in realspace, Admiral."

"Very well," Ackbar replied in his always-calm voice, yet Leia could sense a hint of apprehension in it. The admiral was nearly as anxious for Luke’s return as she was. They exchanged a look of relief that the day had finally arrived. "Launch all fighters," Ackbar commanded.

Leia looked beyond the viewport. There was a fleet out there, but nothing that could even come close to matching the battle group that Ackbar had assembled. Palpatine must not have though that we could find him so quickly, she reflected.

He was kneeling at her feet when she leaned down to him. "Do you want to leave, my slave?" Mara asked.

"No, mistress," he answered truthfully. He knew the punishment; he had not dared disobey for a long time – not since the day his spirit had died.

"Good." She rose. "Then come with me."

He stood and followed.

Ackbar turned to Leia, triumphantly. "Their fleet is falling apart," he reported. "You can take the team down in another ten minutes."

She let out the breath she’d been holding, and withdrew her comlink from her pocket. "We launch in ten minutes, Han," she said.

"We’ll be ready," he replied immediately, sounding just as uptight as she felt. "You coming down, honey?"

"I’m on my way," she assured him. "Give me a –"

She was cut of by Ackbar’s communications officer. "Madame President, there’s an incoming message for you," the Mon Cal said. "It’s from Mara Jade."

Her timing could use some work, Leia thought, moving toward the communications station anyway. She started speaking before she was even facing the holocam. "This really isn’t a good time, Mar – Stars of Alderaan!" she gasped.

Mara wasn’t on the other end. "Don’t come down to the planet, Leia," the person said slowly, his words coming one by one.

Leia sat down hard. It was Luke, it had to be. But he was unrecognizable. He was covered in blood and burns; there was no skin on his face, only tissue, blood, and gaping holes where bits of his skull showed through. But what remained of his face was blank, and his head was bowed. "What?" she finally forced herself to ask.

"Don’t…come…down." Again, the words were slow and forced, but the tone… it was emotionless.

"Is that you, Luke?" she whispered. Skies, if it was…. How was he alive? How was he standing?

"Yes."

"We’re here to get you out," Leia said.

"No," he replied.

"Why not?" she gasped. What was wrong with him? He was a mess… He had to be in so much pain – then why was he refusing to leave?

"I. Don’t. Want. To. Leave," he said slowly.

His words were forced… it had to be because of pain. "Luke, I want to take you home," Leia replied truthfully.

"I…am… home."

Those three words rocked Leia down to the very core of her being. He really doesn’t want to leave, a small voice told her. She swatted it away. He had to leave. He couldn’t stay there! The time he’d agreed to was up!

"No you’re not," Leia said firmly. He didn’t answer. "Luke, look at me." He looked up at her, his blue eyes blank and devoid of any emotion, but he did not speak. "What’s wrong with you?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, his eyes dropping to the floor again. But she’d sensed it in that instant. He was afraid.

"What are you afraid of?" Leia asked quietly. She’d never known Luke to be afraid of anything – not for himself, anyway.

"Nothing," he repeated instantly, but she sensed it again. He was terrified of something… Suddenly, from out of the holocam’s range, Luke was struck in the face, and he stumbled back. Mara Jade stepped into his place, looking at Leia coldly. Leia started – she was looking into the eyes of a stranger.

"As you can see, Leia, he is home," Mara said. Leia looked at Luke, where he stood in the background. The fear was there, buried deep – and he feared Mara.

"What have you done to him?" she demanded. And what did you do with Mara?

Mara smiled frostily. "Trained him," she said, and hung up.

Luke remained standing behind her, still holding back the agony he was in. His pain and his fear didn’t matter because his mistress didn’t want them to matter. She moved toward him, but he kept his head bowed, not daring to look at her.

"You were very good, my slave," she whispered, reaching out and stroking his face.

Pain tore through him, but he didn’t move and he didn’t react. He carefully controlled his emotions; he couldn’t let it show. But it hurt so much…

"You have learned well, haven’t you?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress," he answered immediately. Fire ripped through his chest and lungs as he spoke, but he would always be obedient to her. He knew what would happen if he wasn’t. He knew what would happen if he showed his pain.

"I think I’ll reward you," she said softly, and hidden fear consumed him. What his mistress saw as a reward was always pain.

But to his surprise, she lifted his chin and kissed him hard. Pain swept though him as she forced her tongue into his burned mouth, but he didn’t let it out. He remained still, complaint, just trying to please her… because maybe then he wouldn’t be punished. But then she bit down hard onto his tongue, and the pain almost took over.

Still he did not move; he remained motionless until she withdrew and hit him hard in the face. Luke fought the urge to cringe in fear, to cry in pain. What had he done wrong?

"I want you to respond," she hissed in anger. "I want you to kiss me back. You are my slave in every way. Do you understand that?"

"Yes…mistress," he replied, but despair hit rock bottom in what little remained of his heart. What did she want? She didn’t love him – he knew that. So what was it? Did she just want to hurt him more by reminding him of what he could never again have? He knew what he’d lost. He was reminded of it every day when she tortured him.

Luke’s tears almost threatened to rise again for the first time in twenty years. He wanted to die now. He wanted the pain to end. And the only thing he’d ever ask for, given the chance he’d never had, was for her to hold him again – just once – and not hurt him. He just wanted to remember what kindness was.

She kissed him again, more brutally this time, but obediently, he tried to return it as best the bit would allow. It hurts… It hurt so much as he forced his jaw to move and his tongue to respond.

Then she jerked back again, digging her nails into his face. "That’s not good enough," she snapped.

"I’m sorry, mistress," he whispered. He didn’t know what to do, except that he wanted to cry. She had to do it; she had to torment him with his faded memories of what love had once been.

"You are sorry," she snarled at him, and Luke saw her feet move away from him. She was silent for a moment, leaving him standing and suffering quietly. "Come here and kiss me," she ordered.

Forcing his legs to work through the agony, Luke tentatively stepped forward and forced himself to kiss her. Pain surged through him as he obeyed her, but he still knew that it wouldn’t be enough. She’d hurt him because she wouldn’t be satisfied…

Desperately, he poured the last of his hopeless love for her into his strained, pain-filled kiss. For a moment, she seemed to respond, seemed to maybe be satisfied… but then he felt himself shoved back and thrown to the floor on his face. Then her knee slammed down into his skull, and he knew that he’d made a mistake. But he hadn’t known how else to satisfy her. He just wanted to please her. He wanted her to be happy, and he wanted to make up for whatever it was he’d done to make her hate him. He just wanted Mara to know that he was sorry, and he wanted to somehow make her love him again, and he knew that if he could please her, if he could do exactly what she wanted, she might not hate him so much. And maybe someday she’d hold him and let him die. Maybe someday he wouldn’t have to be alone.

Pain jolted him back into reality as she put all her weight onto his skull. "Don’t you ever show any emotion again, slave," she hissed. "You will never even think about loving me again! I hate you! I want you to suffer."

Luke almost started to cry again. He just wanted to make her happy…

Her nails dug hard into his face. "Do you understand me?" she demanded.

"Yes, mistress," he whispered quickly.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I’m..sorry… mistress…" he replied – and he was so sorry. He just wanted to please her, but she just wanted to hurt him.

"You’re pathetic," she spat, standing once again. "Kneel."

Pain tore through him, but he knelt anyway, bowing his head. Somehow he succeeded in hiding his fear as she dropped to her knees next to him. "Now," she whispered, stroking his cheek gently, "I’m going to do something that’s going to hurt you more than anything else has in a long time." Luke felt new fear jolting though him. What could she do that she hadn’t done yet? But she was still talking, so he forced himself to listen.

"You want to please me, don’t you?" Mara asked.

"Yes, mistress," he replied quickly, even though it hurt so much to even whisper.

She chuckled cruelly. "We’ll see about that," she replied. "But now you’re going to have to stay very still for me, slave, and not make a sound. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mistress," he answered. His fear rose further. Why would she tell him that? He was always supposed to be still, silent. Why did she tell him to do so?

"Lift your head," she commanded, pushing his shattered chin up with her hand. The pain distracted him; Luke’s eyes almost fell upon her, but he jerked them quickly away. He wasn’t supposed to do that, wasn’t supposed to look at her… "Remember," she whispered, "be still and silent."

Out of the corner of his blood-blurred vision, Luke saw a knife moving toward his face. His breathing stopped; he froze, his eyes unwittingly focusing on the blade as it advanced. He caught himself before he committed the grave error of asking what was to happen, but something told him to move, to get away from what was going to happen to him. Her hand moved to the back of his skull and held his head still. Time seemed to slow.

"Eyes straight ahead," he distantly heard his mistress say. "Don’t look at the knife."

But Luke couldn’t take his eyes away. What was she going to do with the knife? Where would she hurt him now? It would be his face; it would hurt so much…

And her nails dug into the back of his head, pushing into his brain. It hurrrtsss! His vision swam with the pain and his eyes snapped downwards immediately. "Good boy," his mistress praised him.

But her nails did not move, and for the first time in five decades, tears filled his eyes. Something horrid was going to happen… For a moment, just one moment, Luke trembled in a terrible fear that he could not hide. Surprisingly, her voice came gently in response to it. "Poor slave," she whispered, her thumbnail trailing down his cheek. "You have no idea what’s coming."

Again, he found himself trembling. Her voice hardened. "Hold still," she hissed. With an effort, Luke stopped his disobedient shaking. He forced the tears out of his eyes. The knife entered his line of vision. "Look straight ahead, now," she ordered. Quickly, he did so, not daring to show his fear but barely able to control it.

Again, Luke found his eyes unwillingly focusing on the silvery, sharp blade. Strangely enough, she didn’t say anything… Then time sped up, and the knife flashed forward. To late, he realized where it was –

Luke screamed. Hurrrrrtttsssss! There was blackness, blackness where half his vision used to be… There was pain, terrible pain in his right eye… He found himself sobbing, not entirely knowing why – it just hurt. There were tears streaming down his face, but he wasn’t supposed to cry; he wasn’t supposed to cry! Desperately, he tried to stop the tears, but the pain was too bad…

Then suddenly there was more agony, and he felt his body jerking and falling back against the floor. Dimly, through his left eye, he could see the knife twisting. Luke sobbed uncontrollably. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it HURTS! There was sharper pain, and he lost control, franticly trying to jerk away from the agony. He was no longer aware of anything but his anguish. He didn’t know he was screaming over and over again. He only knew that it hurt.

A moment of almost-relief came – but just for an instant. As soon as he realized that the blade had left, it stabbed down once more, shooting fire through his mutilated eye. Nooo…. hurtsss! The pain overtook him, and franticly, he tried to fight, tried to pull away from the agony. But she held him down easily, and the knife twisted again…

Part Two: Redemption

***Seven years later***

He knelt at his master’s feet, completely still, save for the ragged breaths that were forced in and out of his chest. It did not matter that he had been there for hours, nor did it matter that he would be there for hours more. The fact that he was suffering silently was of no importance, and no one cared about the pain he was in, or the torture he had been subjected to, unless it was to hurt him more. No one cared about him, for he was only a toy. He existed for the pleasure of others, so that they might enjoy his pain. He was a slave.

He had no wants or needs; he was not a person; he was not human. The slave had no feelings, and it had been a long time since he’d known anything other than fear or pain. It had been so long that he no longer remembered it.

They had long ago stripped away his humanity. Everyone hurt him; no one was kind. He had been isolated for years, denied any contact except for with those who tortured him. And he had been trained.

He had been trained to have no emotions and no feelings. Any will had been beaten out of him long ago. He no longer showed his pain or his fear; he no longer cried, trembled, or even tensed, as he was tortured. He was trained to walk and talk normally through the pain, never allowing his step to falter or his voice to crack. His pain no longer showed on his face or in his movements – he was trained to do anything a normal human being might do, without showing the agony he was in.

He was trained to be totally obedient. He would never hesitate to do as he was told, and he would never fail to accomplish a task. He would only speak when spoken to, and then, address everyone as "Master," or "Mistress." His head was always bowed, and he never lifted it unless told.

He had no identity, other than that of a slave. He no longer had a name – he was "slave." He was below everyone and everything, and anyone who cared to could hurt him. He was not human; he was only a slave.

The slave had been tormented and tortured for so long that he no longer knew what life was like without pain. He did not know how to make his own decisions; he did not know how to want anything, save to please his masters. He had long forgotten what it was like to be loved, and he attached no importance to himself.

But above all, he had been trained to believe he deserved the pain. What had once been a good, courageous man had been transformed into a meek, obedient slave who would never even consider attempting to escape. All that had once made him human had been systematically dismantled and destroyed, until he no longer even wanted it. They had taken away his heart and his soul, and left a burnt-out shell in their place. He had changed more than any being could ever have thought possible.

Not that anyone who had known him before would recognize him now.

And it could, and did, get worse…

He knelt quietly, so hurt, but no longer registering as to why. There was just such pain, only pain… And there was only obedience. He had been told to kneel. He knelt.

And the minutes passed by into hours, into days, perhaps into weeks… it no longer mattered what was done, when or how. He was a toy; a toy to be used, abused, and discarded when his masters pleased. He didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter. He deserved it… though he would not known to name the sensations he felt as pain. He did not know what pain was, he did not know what want was, and he certainly did not know what help was. He was beyond that, and those who hurt him knew it. Though, of course, he did not know what hurt was, either…

Mara shut the door behind her and started forward without conscious thought. She had left here three years ago, had come to her senses, and had nearly been destroyed because of it… Even now, after having analyzed it, categorized it, and dissected it, Mara could not understand what she had done. She had killed the man she loved; she had utterly destroyed him, inside and out. How could I have done that? How could I have believed the lies and hated him? How could I have turned to the dark side and tortured him?

And how could she have failed to bring him with her when she left?

Ironically enough, it had been Leia who had overcome the disgust for what her sister-in-law had done and had pushed her to undo the horrors she had done. Amazingly, Leia had understood that Mara had been afraid of what she had become, had just had to get out of there immediately. Leia had understood that Mara had been, in her own way, nearly as broken as Luke.

But Mara still knew that Leia couldn’t forgive her for it. She knew that as surely as she knew she would never forgive herself.

Not unless she rescued him. Not unless she healed him, saved him, undid what she did, and helped a man who needed help like no other had ever needed it before. Then her heart might consider lessening the guilt it felt. But that didn’t matter.

Only Luke mattered.

She approached him, and found herself holding back tears. What I have done… Please, find it in your heart to forgive me, my love. But in her heart, she knew that she had hurt him too badly for that. Mara knew that the best she could do for Luke would be to rescue him, then leave him forever, and hope that Leia could save him. Think of that later, she commanded herself. Rescue him now.

Only Luke matters.

Mara should not have been surprised by his appearance, but was. He was so thin… much thinner than when she’d left him. His head was still bowed so far that it almost touched his torn-open chest; his eyes were still nothing more that blood-crusted, mutilated holes that barbed wire went into… Her tears spilled over. Luke was barely breathing, no longer even struggling – only the devices implanted into his body kept him alive. The barbed wire still bound what little was left of his arms and his deformed, blood-covered body. And everything, every bone, every piece of cartilage, was broken, shattered beyond repair…

"Oh, skies…" Mara whispered.

His body was dead. It was just forced to remain alive.

Mara closed her eyes, shook her head against the impossibilities of reality. No! I have to try. If anyone can survive this, Luke can.

But as she opened her eyes, she knew she’d killed him a long time ago. He had only lived because of a promise he’d made to her, before, when it had all mattered… And she knew that even his word was no longer enough. His love for her wasn’t enough. Luke had no reason left to live.

So he was dying. He was dead. His body was just forced to function, but the rest of him was dead.

And they force him to act as if he weren’t, she knew. The pain that must cause him…

Mara drew in a shaky breath, and all the resolve she could muster. Her love might be enough. It would have to be enough. There were no other options left.

She looked at him once more, and summoned all her courage. "Luke?" she whispered, hoping beyond all hope that he might somehow remember his name…and that her voice would not terrify him. Please let him not have forgotten everything.

But nothing happened. He remained motionless – he still did not shake, did not cry, and worse yet, he did not answer her.

"Luke," Mara breathed quietly. Then took a chance she knew she might regret – she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. From deep inside him, from that deep and hidden place she had forced him to create, Mara felt pain rip through his body. She jerked her hand away.

"Luke," she repeated, "I don’t know if you remember me – " Mara choked off, unable, for a moment, to continue. "But I’m sorry." She blinked the tears out of her eyes. "I’m not here to hurt you. Do you understand me?"

The small, weak voice came from beyond the grave. "N-oo…miss-trress.." He choked for a moment, then became silent and still once more.

"I won’t hurt you," Mara said softly, wishing he wouldn’t call her that, but knowing that he couldn’t help it. "Do you understand that?"

"N…n-ooo…." he choked in hidden pain. "Mm….iss…tress."

Mara closed her eyes in an effort to stop the tears. He was so much worse than she thought. What have they done to you, Luke? What did he do after I left? When she looked at him again, she felt only pain – it overshadowed even her guilt and regret. She had left him, and Palpatine had done something terrible to him.

A sudden insight hit her. "Do you know who I am?" Mara whispered.

There was a slight hesitation, and she knew he was afraid. But afraid of what? Of her – or of not knowing? "N..oo, Miss..tress," he forced.

And then Mara knew the truth. They took away his memories of anything good, anything before this. While I broke him through his emotions, they took that one step further, and took them away. They took his heart away.

Then there was only one way to do this. "If I asked you to come with me, would you?" Mara asked.

The answer was immediate. "Ye-ss, Mm..isstress…" Mara knew she was right, then. Luke knew only obedience. He didn’t know that there was a difference in who he obeyed.

And while that was good at the moment, Mara knew that it might make healing him impossible.

"Then come with me," Mara said reluctantly, hating the pain it would cause him, but knowing that he didn’t understand how to accept help.

He rose smoothly, but his slowness told Mara how much it hurt him. Knowing he could not see her, Mara put a gentle hand on his shoulder to guide him. For a moment, she felt his confusion – Luke was always directed through cruel jerks on the bit or through harsh blows. He did not understand why she was not causing him more pain, but would never ask. She had cured him of that.

It was all she could do to bring him back to the Jade Saber without breaking down.

***Three weeks later***

Mara had not had the courage to see him since she’d handed him over to the medics on Coruscant. Leia had told her of his initial subservience, of his unquestioning, quiet obedience, then of how she, Jacen, Jania, and Anakin had forced down the barriers created by Palpatine, and had freed his memories. Leia had told her of how afraid he was. And Leia had begged her to help him.

Mara couldn’t say no – she loved him too much. What she could do, she would do. She was only afraid that she would make him worse.

But Leia had said that Luke couldn’t get any worse, and Mara knew she was right.

So she stood before his hospital room’s door, as she had been for the last twenty standard minutes, afraid to enter, but unwilling to leave. She just wanted to hold him, to tell him how sorry she was and that she loved him… But she was so afraid to even speak to him, after she had hurt him so badly.

Stop this! she commanded herself. I can’t help him out here! Gathering her resolve, she opened the door.

He was curled up on the bed, his back to her, and tears streaking down his still-disfigured face. The moment he heard the door shut behind her, the tears stopped.

Mara swallowed. "It’s okay, Luke," she whispered. "I…won’t hurt you."

He was silent, but Mara could see the tenseness and the fear.

Hesitantly, she sat down in the chair beside his bed – the chair he had his back to. "Luke…" she stopped, not knowing what to say or how to apologize for the horrors she’d put him through.

"What do you want?" he whispered, timid but bitter, and so afraid.

She blinked away her own tears, forcing them back. Her crying wouldn’t help Luke. "I’m sorry," Mara replied quietly, the shame she felt pressing in, threatening to break her.

His tears flooded over, and Luke began sobbing. Gently, Mara reached out and touched his shoulder, trying to offer comfort – but he jerked away, sobbing harder. "Please don’t do this…" he whispered.

It hurt her more than she would have ever thought it could, to hear him plead like that. The worst part was that Mara knew what he meant. So many times, she had played with his heart, lied to him, and abused his love for her. He had so easily forgiven her in the past, because he loved her. But she had hurt him until he no longer knew how to trust, and she had deliberately tormented him until he no longer dared believe her.

"I’m not acting this time, Luke," she said, desperately trying to find the words to make him believe her just one more time.

His shoulders shook as he wept. "Please…" he repeated.

"Luke – " Mara started to object, but his weak voice cut her off.

"Please don’t," he begged in a small voice. "Please don’t lie…" Sobs racked Luke’s small body. "Just hurt me if you’re going to…but please don’t lie to me anymore." He turned his face into the pillow, his body trembling with uncontrolled fear and anticipation. He couldn’t believe her, she knew. She had hurt him far too badly.

Mara set her jaw and rose. "I’m sorry I hurt you, Luke," she whispered, the strength of her purpose allowing her to control herself enough to keep her voice even. "And I’m sorry I came here and hurt you more." She didn’t know if he heard her, but she knew he couldn’t understand. "Goodbye."

His quiet tears were the only response as she walked out the door.

"Do you miss her?" Leia asked quietly, hoping she wasn’t reopening old wounds, yet knowing she was – she could only pray that he would not bleed too badly.

His eyes filled with tears, but his answer was immediate. "More than anything," Luke whispered.

Leia took his hands in her own and realized they were shaking. What would it take, she wondered, to bring her brother back? He had been so hurt, so broken…yet he was valiantly fighting back, trying to regain his sense of self. On the outside – the face shown to the public, the media, and the Jedi – he was healed; he was strong. But his close friends and family knew differently. Leia had helped him all she could, although she knew it was not enough – it could not be. And she knew that only Mara could heal the rift she’d created.

But only Luke could take the steps toward that healing. "What will you do?" Leia finally asked.

He looked up at her, helpless tears streaming down his face. "I don’t know," he whispered hoarsely, bowing his head. "I miss her so much…"

Leia wrapped her arms around him. Luke needed her right now, because he was so afraid of wanting the impossible – wanting his wife back. Leia would support any decision he made, but what if his fears were right and Mara would not accept his love or forgiveness? It was such a chance for Luke to take…if Mara accepted him, he might finally and completely heal – but if she did not, Luke would probably shatter to far to ever recover again. Then something occurred to Leia, something she’d never thought to ask before. "Do you forgive her?" Leia asked.

Again, his pained and tortured eyes searched her face, seeking the truth he could rarely find in himself. Part of him, she could see, was surprised that she’d even ask. "Yes," he replied, quiet, yet sure of what he was saying. "I always have."

Even shattered, his heart was so great. Leia kissed his forehead gently, and pulled him close. "Will you go?" she asked after a moment.

"I want to," Luke whispered, struggling to control himself and barely succeeding. "But I’m so afraid…"

He began shaking again, crying from fear and loneliness, and Leia understood his fear. She just didn’t know if he was strong enough to overcome it yet. "What should I do?" he whispered, pleading for her to make the decision for him.

"I can’t tell you that, Luke," she replied, knowing that deciding, deciding anything, was so hard for Luke after all he’d been through – yet day in and day out, he was forced to do so, and it killed him.

He was silent for a moment, then replied "I know," quietly. Leia felt him find that inner truth. "And I know I have to go."

Leia pulled back and looked at him – that was conviction she heard in his voice! It had been years since she’d heard that… It was not yet confidence, but he knew what he wanted. And he knew what he would have to do to get her back.

She hugged him one last time. "I’m so proud of you, Luke."

The wry sense of humor was almost back – "Say that again when I bring her home," he replied. But part of him still worried. All of him was still afraid.

For the first time, Leia smiled. "Oh, I will," she said, knowing that Luke would succeed – or die trying. As he moved away after one last embrace, Leia finally knew how great her brother was. She said a silent prayer for him as he left, afraid he would desperately need it.

Mara looked out across Malastare’s populated capital, Tal Sama. She was on the communal balcony of the run-down apartment complex she called home, trying to find a semblance of solitude and not succeeding. Her problem was that in her great loneliness, she wanted to be alone. She felt empty, now, without the bond she and Luke had shared. Mara had never been close to anyone, until Luke. Luke! – the man she had all but killed. And though it was her fault, his refusal to forgive her, to believe her one last time, ate away at her inside. She knew she deserved the pain for what she’d caused him the same way she knew he would never take her back, yet that irrational part of her soul – the part of her that was still locked inside the love he’d once held for her – wished that it could be different. Mara didn’t want much. She only wanted to change the past.

A Devorian male brushed up against her, and even having long ago abandoned her force powers, she knew the contact was intentional. Mara turned her best glare on him. She wasn’t interested in being chased tonight. Then again, she hadn’t ever been interested in being chased – and now her interest was even less, after what she had done to her only love.

"Go away," she snapped, anticipating his request. "I’m not interested."

"Why notttt?" he drawled drunkenly. "Maannny ladiesssss have foounnd mee pleasssing."

"I don’t care," Mara retorted, wishing she were armed – yet her current job as a waitress didn’t allow that, and she’d just returned from work.

Surprisingly – drunk Devorians were usually quite docile – he flung her into the apartment complex’s wall. "Neittherrr dooo I," he replied.

Dark, repressed memories rose within Mara, along with an age-old fear. "Leave me alone!" She tried to inflict command into her voice, yet it came as a plea.

The Devorian smiled a toothy, feral, grin and did not reply. He just held her fast and moved closer; while the once-trained part of Mara strove toward calm, the rest of her began to panic –

A calm voice stole both her and the Devorian’s attention. "Is there a problem here?"

Mara almost fainted – she knew that voice! Her heart pounded in her chest, and – though she could only see a dark shadow – she turned away in shame.

The Devorian spun, snarling as he did so: "Thiissss isss nooone of yoourrr bussssinesss…" He suddenly grew astonishingly sober, and gasped "Jedi!"

His voice was so much stronger than when she had heard it last, so much more confident – yet still, underneath, she heard the pain. Mara knew how much of the calm was forced. "Leave her alone," Luke said levelly.

The Devorian bobbed his head wildly and fled, leaving an uneasy silence between the two former lovers. "Thank you," Mara said quietly, aware of what he had just saved her from but wanting to leave, to get away from him – it hurt so much to be near him at all. Worse yet, she sensed his pain, his fear; despite her betrayal, the bond still survived.

Luke’s voice was dry and hoarse. "You’re welcome," he whispered.

Mara looked at him for a moment, then found she could not bear to see his face – After what I did to him… How can he help me? How can he save me? Mara found herself shaking helplessly. She had to get away. "I have to go," she stuttered, turning to run away.

He grabbed her arm before she could escape, whispering, "Please don’t." But his hand left her arm even as the old bond began to reassert its power, for he was as hurt as she. "I don’t want it to end like this," Luke pleaded.

Mara stared at the ground as she shook her head, then found she couldn’t stop. "I said I was sorry, Luke," she said, the words coming out all in a rush. "I don’t know what else to say." She winced. She hadn’t meant it to come out that way…it seemed like a accusation even to her own ears. She should have said so much more – she’d hurt him so much; it was the least she could do. Yet she found herself almost blaming him for not believing her – which was ultimately her fault. She’d done that to him. She’d ripped him apart from the inside out, and had all but torn his heart out of his chest. And she still yearned for his forgiveness.

But she knew she didn’t deserve it. That’s why she had to get away from there, get away from him, before Luke said something he’d regret. It wasn’t his fault that his heart had been broken. She had to get away before she could hurt him again. He deserved at least that much.

Before she could walk away – and try so hard never to look back – he spoke quietly. "I know." He sounded ashamed. How could he sound ashamed after what she’d done to him?

With the last of her courage, Mara looked up at him. "It’s not your fault, Luke," she said rapidly, looking away and trying to force the words out before her nerve failed her. "And I’m sorry for what I did. But I have to go." Again, she turned to leave, and again, he stopped her.

But this time he didn’t let go of her arm, and she could feel his hand shaking.

"Please don’t go… Mara," he begged.

She looked at him incredulously – but just for an instant. She still couldn’t bear to look at him. "Why?" she wondered. "I hurt you so much, and you… you’ve come here – for what? Why did you come here?"

"Because I love you," Luke blurted.

Staring at the ground, Mara snorted bitterly, yet it was herself she hated, not him – never again, him. "I tortured you."

Something seemed to snap inside him. "I don’t care!" Luke cried. "Don’t you see that?"

It would have been so wonderful to believe him. It would have been a dream come true if life could return to what it had once been…

But she knew he was lying. When she looked up at him, she saw the tears streaming down his face, and through his hand on her arm, she felt his fear and his pain. He might have meant the words – Mara was not sure if he did or not, or why he would – but they were not true. Her pain and grief finally exploded inside of her.

"You don’t care!" she shouted. "Don’t lie to me! I can see how afraid you are!"

If her words had been a physical blow he could not have jerked back faster. His hand abruptly left her arm, and she saw the old fear fill his eyes as he started trembling. Luke stumbled back, away from her, and Mara realized what she’d done.

"Oh, skies," she said under her breath, turning away for the last time, because she knew she’d really done it. She hadn’t realized how hurt he was, but she’d just made it worse without meaning to. It would have felt so good to cry, but Mara felt that she didn’t deserve that release.

It was some minutes later before Luke spoke, and she realized that he hadn’t left.

"Please, Mara…" he whispered. "I know you’re afraid of this, but… but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day that I… pushed you away." She looked at him as he swallowed and bit his lip for a moment, trying without success to stop his tears. Luke bowed his head. "I’m sorry."

"You’re sorry?" Mara gasped. "You didn’t do anything!"

Mara watched him clasp his hands, trying vainly to stop them from shaking. "I just –" He sobbed and turned away, trembling. "I…" he trailed off, unable to continue, and then broke down completely into tears.

"You don’t have to do this, Luke," she said quietly. Mara realized what he was trying to do. He was trying to heal a rift he hadn’t even created, trying to undo what couldn’t be undone.

He spun to face her, and forced himself to look directly at her. "But don’t you see I want to?" he gasped, his pained blue eyes pleading with her to understand.

Mara felt her own hot tears rising as she shook her head. "You can’t be serious after what I did to you," she objected.

His eyes ripped away from her, and she could see Luke trying so hard to control himself, but the sobs kept coming. "Mara…" he pleaded. Suddenly, he grabbed her arms and desperately looked into her eyes. "I love you." Luke turned away as abruptly as he had taken a hold of her, dropping his head into his hands as he turned his back to her.

For the first time, Mara realized that he had used her name – and it was clearly so hard for him to do so. She’d trained him not to ever do that, not to even think it, not to even dare want to… But somehow he was overcoming what she had done to him; he was doing it all in the impossible hope of getting her back. And for the first time, Mara realized how hard this was for him. He was offering her absolution, offering his heart up to her – and breaking again in the process.

She took a tentative step toward his back and quietly replied, "But you’re so afraid."

"I…" he gulped, "I know. But… I don’t know how to say this to you, but… I – forgive you," he whispered.

Mara looked at him incredulously, unable to believe her ears. "You what? Why?" She fought her tears back. All her hopes and dreams could not be coming true. She didn’t deserve them.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes filled with tears. "I love you," he repeated quietly.

"But I hurt you," Mara protested. "I broke you."

Luke’s eyes were as uncertain as his words. "I know," he whispered. "And I’m so afraid, but– " He looked away once more. "I miss you so much." When Luke found the courage to meet her eyes again, Mara understood what he was risking – it was more than his heart; it was his soul. Still, his next words rocked her to the very core of her being.

"I need you," Luke said. In his eyes, Mara saw his unconditional love for her – the same love that had always been there, throughout his torture and pain. The heavy weight seemed to lift slightly from her shoulders, and she knew he would forgive her anything, and that he had.

"Luke…" Mara whispered. One last hedge was left – she didn’t deserve him. Now she, too, was shaking.

He grabbed her hands. "I know we’re both hurt… but we can heal together – right?" Luke’s eyes pleaded with her to give him the love she knew he so desperately needed.

Mara couldn’t believe she was being offered the chance she had dreamed about but never dared to chase. "Yes," she nodded, and, abandoning her own pain, Mara drew him into her arms. Luke needed her.