#aunt beru the feminist icon

[officialfoxsquadron]

rising, falling

972 words | my ao3

rating: general audience

summary: Aunt Beru's son is growing up. He is in danger. This, she has always known.

When Luke’s toys came crashing around him, she cursed him again. Not her nephew-no, never him. She cursed his father, Obi-Wan, the whole damned lot of them. They were sandstorms, these men-destroying everything in their path, not caring who they hurt or what they left behind.

Obi-Wan, at least, had the decency to stay close. She knew, eventually, that there would come a day when he would take her nephew-her son -away, and she would have to let him.

But that didn’t mean she had to trust him. Any of them, these sandstorm men who reached for the suns, tried to bring them crashing down. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in the Force-it was hard not to when your son woke from his nightmares with toys floating around him. She just never understood why they had to mess with it.

“Aunt Beru,” His voice was small, quiet, and shaky, but Luke sat bolt upright. She felt her husband rush behind her, his hands ghosting her back as she clutched her collar. She had screamed, she realized. She shouldn't have done that.

He's growing like a weed, she thought dully. He'll need new clothes again. “Uncle Owen. I had a bad dream-”

“It’s alright, son,” her husband said, in that gruff voice of his. He brushed past Beru, smoothed his nephew’s blanket, laid him back down. “Just worried it was raiders, that’s all.”

“Bu-but-”

“It’s alright.” Owen said-no, insisted. He wordlessly walked to the other side of Luke’s room and picked up his bantha plush, placing it back in Luke’s hands. “Just go back to sleep, we’ll fix it in the morning.”

“Okay.” Luke said, squeezing the toy near his chest, voice already dipping. “Just a bad dream?”

“Just a bad dream.” Owen confirmed, stroking his son’s hair as he fell to sleep.

Beru was still frozen in the doorway. She wanted to comfort her son, but Owen was always better at this part of parenting. He would rush in when fear made your heart leap into your throat. 

She did not want to be scared of him, her darling boy, who always knew how to make her laugh. But seeing the contents of his room floating around him, the pained noises that were in his throat-

“We love you, Luke,” she said, quietly, still trying to regain her breath. Luke was already asleep, but she hoped he heard her. “It’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Owen wrapped his arm around her, her whole body still shaking, after he closed Luke’s door. He held her until they were back in their room and guided her to sit on the edge of their bed. He wrapped a blanket around her, wordlessly, and found the bottle of liquor they kept hidden for moments like these.

“Thank you, Owen,” she said, her voice clawing its way out of her throat. She took a sip-she hated the stuff, but her nerves were overactive all these years. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Stop,” Owen said gruffly, taking her hand. He held it between his, rubbing his thumb along her palm. She felt the fear, the anger, the hatred die down for a moment, enough to regain her senses.

“How did you know to go to him?” Her husband rarely asked questions of her. She turned, looked into his eyes. They were blue, so blue, calm and silent.

“I dunno. I couldn’t sleep.” It was the truth. Sleep had never come easily to her, and she always made sure to peek into Luke’s room when she could. Just to make sure he was breathing. That’s when she saw it, the contents of the room floating above him. "I screamed, Owen. I should have never done that, he'll think-"

"Stop," he said again, kissing her forehead. "It's not your fault. You can't always control how you react to...something like that."

She thought-not for the first time, and certainly not for the last-of stories Shmi would tell her, of dreams and nightmares that led to a quickening in her womb. She thought of Luke’s mother, the beautiful woman from very far away. She had been so sad, even then, when she was supposed to be young and in love.

She gave Beru a smile when they parted, an odd little smile. A reassuring one. An apologetic one. It was one that twisted Beru's stomach.

She thought of the smile now, her parting gift from her sister-in-law. It was a gift women gave each other often; when they went off with bad men, when they hoped against hope that things would work out. She had given it to her, so that when reports of a massacre came in, Beru wouldn't scream. She would try and remember. She would try and control herself, hold still in a sandstorm, because the men were playing at gods again.

Her husband smoothed her hair, kissed the side of her head. She put the glass down and rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself melt into his familiar warmth. He guided them to lay on the bed, and she leaned into him, wrapped herself around him.

He sighed, in the way he sighed right before he said something he thought was terrifying. “He’s growing up, Beru.”

“I know,” she replied, and traced his jaw, his nose, the lines on his face. How did they get there? They were young once.

They didn’t need to say anything else. They never did. Her husband’s heartbeat, the rise and fall of his breath–it was a song she knew, a lullaby, and she let it calm her fried nerves. He fell asleep, and soon, she would too, despite herself.

We’ll fix it in the morning, she thought. Luke is growing up, and the sandstorm is coming, but there’s nothing for it now. We’ll fix it in the morning.

#yuuup this is what i choose to spend a sunday doing. help #my writing #luke skywalker fanfiction #uncle owen #aunt beru #aunt beru the feminist icon #she's a woman that loves john denver and fleetwood mac THAT i know #star wars fanfiction #i feel like i have been spamming the tags #but this is how my brain works all of the writing and then none of it so enjoy and also i apologize

[movieshape99-blog]

For pretty much 40 years Carrie Fisher's great, resourceful Princess Leia was truly the only significant female character in your Star Wars galaxy. George Lucas's original trilogy is many items — wildly imaginative, perfectly expansive, and endlessly entertaining — but female-driven it is not necessarily. In fact, a revealing supercut from Vulture examined the different non-Leia speaking parts for women in A New Optimism, The Empire Strikes Spine, and Return of typically the Jedi and found that we have only three female characters who've got any dialogue: Aunt Beru concerning Tatooine, former senator not to mention Rebel Alliance leader Friday Mothma, and an unnamed Rebel controller from the Hoth base. While it does not necessarily take away from Leia's importance being Rebel hero and go culture icon — since of course, she was a blaster-firing romantic who could save herself long before it was popular — dealing make Rian Johnson's Take the leading role Wars: The Last Jedi all the more monumental to the cannon. In the days considering that anticipated film's release, very much has been said on the subject of Johnson's bold, exciting new entry in your Star Wars franchise. Part VIII d

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