FIC: Burns and Balms 1/1
Title: Burns and Balms
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Pairing: L/M
Category: Romance, Vignette
Summary: Luke and Mara return to Tatooine shortly after their marriage and have to adjust to the new climate(s).
The only thing Luke never forgot about Tatooine was the heat. After the deepest, bone-freezing winter on Hoth, the pleasant, warm summer breezes on Coruscant and the thick moisture in the air on Yavin 4, he was never quite able to rid himself of the memory - more than a memory, even, for he could relive the sensations, the feelings, at a mere thought. The dry, burning heat that surrounded and penetrated every pore of his skin - as soon as he stepped off the Sabre, he knew he was home.
Mara wrinkled her nose in distaste, and Luke knew she had not forgotten the sensation either. Although it was different for a native, like Luke, to someone who had only visited the planet before. He had been raised in the heat, taught to love it, to build up the calluses on his feet so he could walk on the burning sand barefoot, to know exactly how long he could stay in the sun, down to the minute, before getting burnt. It had been a way of life for Luke, Owen and Beru, something Mara, raised in the cool stone and duracrete towers of Coruscant, could never fully understand.
She muttered mutinously under her breath that night as they prepared for bed, unconsciously rubbing her dry hands. Beru had never been able to afford moisturiser from Anchorhead or Mos Eisley, and instead had made her own from the Aloe plants that grew sparingly in Beggar’s Canyon. As a child Luke had watched her cook it in her large compacter, before pouring it into containers and allowing in to cool off, and then her nightly ritual of rubbing it into her hands, careful not to waste a drop. It was why his aunt had always had such a soft, welcoming touch, drying his tears, teaching him to sew, pinching his cheeks fondly. They were so unlike Owen’s calloused, cracked skin and torn knuckles, evidence of the brutal work he endured day after day.
Remembering this, Luke had managed to bring a large supply of moisteriser, purchased from an expensive boutique recommended by Leia on the Capital. He presented it to Mara unceremoniously that evening.
“You might like to use this,” he said, “It’ll keep your hands from getting too dry.”
“Thank you, Farmboy, I know what moisturiser is.” She quirked an eyebrow in that way of hers, the one that never failed to make him blush. Tonight, however, he simply shrugged.
“It just looks as though you don’t use it,” he quipped back.
Mara only looked offended for less than a second. “I don’t need to use it.”
Luke gave another shrug and focussed on the contents of his ‘fresher bag. “Suit yourself. You might need it here though.”
Mara went back to muttering, but Luke smiled as she rubbed a generous amount of the crème into her hands that had been ravaged by the daytime heat and air that sucked the moisture out of her usually supple skin. She tried not to give signs she was grateful, but Luke heard the whisper of a sigh that escaped her lips as the cool crème soothed and softened her hands. Luke eventually gave up all pretence of not watching, joined her on the bed and took over the job, rubbing soft circles into the backs of her hands. He paid careful attention to her knuckles, which were cracked and had the appearance that they had been torn and healed several times over. Given her former line of work, Luke was not surprised. He worked his way up her fingers in lines, reaching her nails, which had been short and jagged like his own when he first knew her, owing to close work on machinery, but now were longer, the white keratin rounded and well-kept.
Before long the crème had been completely absorbed by her skin, but Mara said nothing as Luke continued his examination, turning over her hands to reveal the soft underside. The pads of her fingers he knew very well, and moved down to her palms, tracing her life-lines softly. Mara flinched slightly at his touch, and Luke knew he must have hit a ticklish spot. He amused himself by outlining the area several times, causing her to stifle giggles and not allowing her to pull her hands away.
His enjoyment stopped when he saw the lining of several white scars, old and faded, marring her palms. He traced them with the tips of his fingers, wondering how she had procured them. They were perfectly symmetrical, as if she had held into something that had cut or burnt her - or been forced too. Luke looked up and met Mara’s eyes, which denied nothing and at the same time, told him everything. He placed a gentle kiss to each of the marks and drew her close.
Her hands were still grasped in his as they drifted off to sleep later that night.
*******
Their original plan had been to stay on Tatooine for a week, but it had somehow turned into several. Time seemed to move more slowly on the planet, as Luke fully remembered from his youth. But while those days had been filled with anxious boredom, his time with Mara was leisurely and no matter how much she complained about the heat, he knew she enjoyed the break as much as he did. That was the beauty of Tatooine - you could forget about the rest of the galaxy because you were literally a galaxy away from them. Apart from the runs into town for supplies, it felt as if Luke and Mara were the only two people on the planet.
Of course they weren’t without their rough spots, no other people to interact with meant that occasionally they grew weary of each other’s presence. Mara especially grew restless, and needed some time alone, her privacy still sacrosanct. She enjoyed her solitude, where Luke had been trying to escape it his whole life. But he left her alone, when she went for a walk through the sand dunes at dawn, worrying for her safety, but knowing that she would have no trouble dealing with Sandpeople or anything else the desert could throw at her.
He fretted around Beru’s kitchen as a sandstorm brewed outside, but he resisted the urge to delve into their bond and reassure himself, and waited. She returned an hour later, windswept and wild, eyes blazing, her normally pale skin tinged red and her untamed hair tangled and tinted beige with sand.
Although she never spoke about it, he knew she had found her peace out in the wastelands, the savagery of the land awakening the wild yearnings of her soul, battling with her demons. The desert was so like her, after all - uncompromising and hard, unless you knew its secrets. But he didn’t have a chance to tell her so, as she kissed him fiercely on her return. The storm had roused something within her, that kind of exhilaration Luke felt from flying, only it was a deeper, one of the few times where Mara truly let go of her vaulted self-control and simply felt and reacted, rather than thought and planned. And Luke was more than willing to indulge her.
***************
“I warned you.” Luke couldn’t keep the smugness out of his voice.
Mara lay spread-eagled on the couch, whimpering softly as she tried to find a position that didn’t aggravate her burnt skin. She didn’t even have the energy to shoot him a scathing look.
“There’s a reason why everyone covers themselves completely outside,” he continued, leaning against the doorframe, where the breeze from outside wafted in and shifted the stale air, even if it did not make the room any cooler.
“Those robes are hot,” Mara complained, sounding very much like Jaina in a sulky mood.
“And Sith-ugly, right?” Luke remembered Mara jibbing him for the thick beige robes and floppy hat he’d worn on their trek out into the Dune Sea, finding his outfit more than amusing. Mara had looked appealing in the short jungle shorts and sleeveless tunic she’d worn, but he’d warned her she’d pay for it and he’d been right. Every area of skin she’d left uncovered was a vibrant red; the particularly nasty area on her shoulders was even starting to peel. It didn’t help that her skin was already sensitive from the wind burn she’d received from her jaunt in the sandstorm.
Mara groaned again. “I just need a long, cold shower.”
“Not possible,” Luke replied.
“What?” Mara raised her head slightly, looking panicked. “We are on a moisture farm, aren’t we?”
“Which produces barely enough water to drink,” Luke reminded her.
“Well, you can buy more in town, can’t you?” Mara asked hopefully.
Luke sighed, and reminded himself that the heat had probably affected her usually sharp and logical mind. “To buy enough water for a shower, or even a bath, would be taking it away from the farmers and citizens who need it to survive.”
“Fine,” Mara accepted the reasoning grudgingly. “Would you get me the moisturiser, then?” She paused for a moment before adding; “Please?”
Luke smiled and retrieved a small container from their electric cooler. But when he returned with it, Mara gave him a strange look, for it was not the moisturiser he had brought for her and which she had been rubbing into her hands at night, but a container of blue-green gel. “It’s after-sun lotion,” Luke explained, kneeling down on the floor next to her. “It will work better than moisturiser. Anyway, the stuff I brought is only made for your hands; it will make the rest of your skin too oily.” He opened the container and squeezed some gel onto his fingers. Mara gave a relieved sigh as he gently pushed her hair out of the way and applied the cool substance onto her shoulders.
“It doesn’t seem right that you know more about this stuff than I do, Luke,” she said as she closed her eyes and relaxed into his touch. “In fact, it’s downright bizarre. You are bizarre,” she clarified.
“You love me for it,” Luke goaded her, applying a liberal amount of gel to her upper arms and rubbing it in.
“Hmmm.”
But Luke smiled and bent down to kiss her dry lips, softening them with his own, and Mara seemed to somehow forgot about the pain that moving caused, as she wound her red arms around his back and drew him closer.
In his mind he heard her voice, clear and strong. It seems that you’re always right, Skywalker.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Pairing: L/M
Category: Romance, Vignette
Summary: Luke and Mara return to Tatooine shortly after their marriage and have to adjust to the new climate(s).
The only thing Luke never forgot about Tatooine was the heat. After the deepest, bone-freezing winter on Hoth, the pleasant, warm summer breezes on Coruscant and the thick moisture in the air on Yavin 4, he was never quite able to rid himself of the memory - more than a memory, even, for he could relive the sensations, the feelings, at a mere thought. The dry, burning heat that surrounded and penetrated every pore of his skin - as soon as he stepped off the Sabre, he knew he was home.
Mara wrinkled her nose in distaste, and Luke knew she had not forgotten the sensation either. Although it was different for a native, like Luke, to someone who had only visited the planet before. He had been raised in the heat, taught to love it, to build up the calluses on his feet so he could walk on the burning sand barefoot, to know exactly how long he could stay in the sun, down to the minute, before getting burnt. It had been a way of life for Luke, Owen and Beru, something Mara, raised in the cool stone and duracrete towers of Coruscant, could never fully understand.
She muttered mutinously under her breath that night as they prepared for bed, unconsciously rubbing her dry hands. Beru had never been able to afford moisturiser from Anchorhead or Mos Eisley, and instead had made her own from the Aloe plants that grew sparingly in Beggar’s Canyon. As a child Luke had watched her cook it in her large compacter, before pouring it into containers and allowing in to cool off, and then her nightly ritual of rubbing it into her hands, careful not to waste a drop. It was why his aunt had always had such a soft, welcoming touch, drying his tears, teaching him to sew, pinching his cheeks fondly. They were so unlike Owen’s calloused, cracked skin and torn knuckles, evidence of the brutal work he endured day after day.
Remembering this, Luke had managed to bring a large supply of moisteriser, purchased from an expensive boutique recommended by Leia on the Capital. He presented it to Mara unceremoniously that evening.
“You might like to use this,” he said, “It’ll keep your hands from getting too dry.”
“Thank you, Farmboy, I know what moisturiser is.” She quirked an eyebrow in that way of hers, the one that never failed to make him blush. Tonight, however, he simply shrugged.
“It just looks as though you don’t use it,” he quipped back.
Mara only looked offended for less than a second. “I don’t need to use it.”
Luke gave another shrug and focussed on the contents of his ‘fresher bag. “Suit yourself. You might need it here though.”
Mara went back to muttering, but Luke smiled as she rubbed a generous amount of the crème into her hands that had been ravaged by the daytime heat and air that sucked the moisture out of her usually supple skin. She tried not to give signs she was grateful, but Luke heard the whisper of a sigh that escaped her lips as the cool crème soothed and softened her hands. Luke eventually gave up all pretence of not watching, joined her on the bed and took over the job, rubbing soft circles into the backs of her hands. He paid careful attention to her knuckles, which were cracked and had the appearance that they had been torn and healed several times over. Given her former line of work, Luke was not surprised. He worked his way up her fingers in lines, reaching her nails, which had been short and jagged like his own when he first knew her, owing to close work on machinery, but now were longer, the white keratin rounded and well-kept.
Before long the crème had been completely absorbed by her skin, but Mara said nothing as Luke continued his examination, turning over her hands to reveal the soft underside. The pads of her fingers he knew very well, and moved down to her palms, tracing her life-lines softly. Mara flinched slightly at his touch, and Luke knew he must have hit a ticklish spot. He amused himself by outlining the area several times, causing her to stifle giggles and not allowing her to pull her hands away.
His enjoyment stopped when he saw the lining of several white scars, old and faded, marring her palms. He traced them with the tips of his fingers, wondering how she had procured them. They were perfectly symmetrical, as if she had held into something that had cut or burnt her - or been forced too. Luke looked up and met Mara’s eyes, which denied nothing and at the same time, told him everything. He placed a gentle kiss to each of the marks and drew her close.
Her hands were still grasped in his as they drifted off to sleep later that night.
*******
Their original plan had been to stay on Tatooine for a week, but it had somehow turned into several. Time seemed to move more slowly on the planet, as Luke fully remembered from his youth. But while those days had been filled with anxious boredom, his time with Mara was leisurely and no matter how much she complained about the heat, he knew she enjoyed the break as much as he did. That was the beauty of Tatooine - you could forget about the rest of the galaxy because you were literally a galaxy away from them. Apart from the runs into town for supplies, it felt as if Luke and Mara were the only two people on the planet.
Of course they weren’t without their rough spots, no other people to interact with meant that occasionally they grew weary of each other’s presence. Mara especially grew restless, and needed some time alone, her privacy still sacrosanct. She enjoyed her solitude, where Luke had been trying to escape it his whole life. But he left her alone, when she went for a walk through the sand dunes at dawn, worrying for her safety, but knowing that she would have no trouble dealing with Sandpeople or anything else the desert could throw at her.
He fretted around Beru’s kitchen as a sandstorm brewed outside, but he resisted the urge to delve into their bond and reassure himself, and waited. She returned an hour later, windswept and wild, eyes blazing, her normally pale skin tinged red and her untamed hair tangled and tinted beige with sand.
Although she never spoke about it, he knew she had found her peace out in the wastelands, the savagery of the land awakening the wild yearnings of her soul, battling with her demons. The desert was so like her, after all - uncompromising and hard, unless you knew its secrets. But he didn’t have a chance to tell her so, as she kissed him fiercely on her return. The storm had roused something within her, that kind of exhilaration Luke felt from flying, only it was a deeper, one of the few times where Mara truly let go of her vaulted self-control and simply felt and reacted, rather than thought and planned. And Luke was more than willing to indulge her.
***************
“I warned you.” Luke couldn’t keep the smugness out of his voice.
Mara lay spread-eagled on the couch, whimpering softly as she tried to find a position that didn’t aggravate her burnt skin. She didn’t even have the energy to shoot him a scathing look.
“There’s a reason why everyone covers themselves completely outside,” he continued, leaning against the doorframe, where the breeze from outside wafted in and shifted the stale air, even if it did not make the room any cooler.
“Those robes are hot,” Mara complained, sounding very much like Jaina in a sulky mood.
“And Sith-ugly, right?” Luke remembered Mara jibbing him for the thick beige robes and floppy hat he’d worn on their trek out into the Dune Sea, finding his outfit more than amusing. Mara had looked appealing in the short jungle shorts and sleeveless tunic she’d worn, but he’d warned her she’d pay for it and he’d been right. Every area of skin she’d left uncovered was a vibrant red; the particularly nasty area on her shoulders was even starting to peel. It didn’t help that her skin was already sensitive from the wind burn she’d received from her jaunt in the sandstorm.
Mara groaned again. “I just need a long, cold shower.”
“Not possible,” Luke replied.
“What?” Mara raised her head slightly, looking panicked. “We are on a moisture farm, aren’t we?”
“Which produces barely enough water to drink,” Luke reminded her.
“Well, you can buy more in town, can’t you?” Mara asked hopefully.
Luke sighed, and reminded himself that the heat had probably affected her usually sharp and logical mind. “To buy enough water for a shower, or even a bath, would be taking it away from the farmers and citizens who need it to survive.”
“Fine,” Mara accepted the reasoning grudgingly. “Would you get me the moisturiser, then?” She paused for a moment before adding; “Please?”
Luke smiled and retrieved a small container from their electric cooler. But when he returned with it, Mara gave him a strange look, for it was not the moisturiser he had brought for her and which she had been rubbing into her hands at night, but a container of blue-green gel. “It’s after-sun lotion,” Luke explained, kneeling down on the floor next to her. “It will work better than moisturiser. Anyway, the stuff I brought is only made for your hands; it will make the rest of your skin too oily.” He opened the container and squeezed some gel onto his fingers. Mara gave a relieved sigh as he gently pushed her hair out of the way and applied the cool substance onto her shoulders.
“It doesn’t seem right that you know more about this stuff than I do, Luke,” she said as she closed her eyes and relaxed into his touch. “In fact, it’s downright bizarre. You are bizarre,” she clarified.
“You love me for it,” Luke goaded her, applying a liberal amount of gel to her upper arms and rubbing it in.
“Hmmm.”
But Luke smiled and bent down to kiss her dry lips, softening them with his own, and Mara seemed to somehow forgot about the pain that moving caused, as she wound her red arms around his back and drew him closer.
In his mind he heard her voice, clear and strong. It seems that you’re always right, Skywalker.