She's a Rebel [Star Wars | Luke Skywalker] *EDITING*

Binary Sunset

Beru gasps, and Owen's eyes widen at the sight of my face. But then they realise how this might make me feel, and their looks of shock turn into looks of sympathy.

"Have you heard about your..." Beru begins.

I look down, shaking my head, answering the question I know she's going to ask.

"I haven't heard anything, though I'm not holding out much hope for finding them alive," I say, not daring to look up at three of them. "I, um..."

I turn away from them, not wanting them to see me upset. I, myself, haven't realised how upset I am over the whole situation. I'm so used to putting on a facade within the Empire that I managed to fool myself into thinking that I was doing just fine. Maybe that's what Evan and Zach do, too.

"Yes, but who is she?" Luke demands quietly.

"Go inside," Owen demands stiffly. I feel Luke looking at me, and then I hear him walking towards the homestead.

"Natalie..." Owen begins.

I turn round, and Owen reaches for me, causing me to instinctively back away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, dear," he says comfortingly. "My name is Owen, this is my wife, Beru," he adds after a moment, nodding towards Beru. "And that was our nephew, Luke."

I nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," I murmur.

"Come on, sweetie," Beru says softly, walking towards me and rubbing my shoulders gently, taking special care around my injured one. "Let's get you cleaned up and fed, shall we?"

I smile at her thankfully. "I'd like that," I say quietly, tears making an unannounced appearance, and I wipe them away quickly.

"I'll get Luke to take a look at your speeder," Owen adds as Beru leads me into the homestead.

I did not expect Owen to be so kind, especially considering what I saw earlier. Maybe he's just trying not to upset me too much, trying to deal with the situation. Maybe he's assuming a parental role because he knew my mother and father, which is strange to me, seeing as they never mentioned anything about him, Beru and Luke.

"You don't have to, I borrowed it off an old friend in Mos Eisley. I can try and get it back there for him to fix. He has a runs a small garage up there," I suggest.

"Not with what the Sand People just did to you," Beru says sternly. She takes me inside the homestead and down to the pristine white kitchen, a warm glow surrounding the gleaming units in the late afternoon, and the smell of home cooking fills my nose. It's a comforting smell, nostalgic, and it reminds me of my mother. She sits me down on a stool and fetches me a cup of blue Bantha milk.

"Here, drink," she says, handing it to me.

"Thank you," I smile, and I gulp it down, the cool liquid running down my hoarse throat. I hadn't realised how thirsty I was. She fetches some bandages, saline solution and a cloth, and comes over to me.

"We were just about to eat, actually," she tells me.

"Oh! I do hope I'm not imposing," I say quickly. "Honestly, I can clean myself up."

I go to take the medical supplies from her, but she puts one of her hands up to me and chuckles softly.

"No, that won't be necessary dear," she smiles as she pours some saline solution on the cloth, and she pulls my tunic down from my shoulder. I hiss in pain as the fabric is pulled from the sticky wound, and I close my eyes, letting her get on with it. I fiddle with my helmet in my hands, trying to distract myself from the pain.