Wednesday, March 30, 2016

A Star Wars Fairy Tale: New Hope, Part 2

The very next day, a proclamation went out, declaring that all eligible men of Aldran were cordially invited to attend the Grand Alliance Ball, the kingdom's most glittering affair, to celebrate the induction of Princess Leia Organa into the Imperial Court. All of the unmarried men immediately made bets and jokes about who could win the heart of the stubborn beauty who had turned down every royal male in the Seven Kingdoms.

One lad who most certainly did NOT think he'd be going to the ball was Luke Skywalker. He had once lived in the desert Kingdom of Tatoon with his aunt and uncle, who ran a grain farm on the outskirts of the kingdom. At least, until their farm and much of their kingdom was set ablaze for failure to pay taxes. They had always been poor. There wasn't even money to send Luke to school. The wicked ogre king Jabba the Hutt took most of the citizens' money for himself and his licentious court, and the Empire taxed away what little remained. Luke had fled, but his aunt and uncle weren't as lucky. He found them dead in their smoking farmhouse.

Having nowhere to go and no family to turn to, Luke took his few meager belongings and hitched a ride to Aldran. At first, he had a hard time finding a job. He knew no one in the city. He was just about to give up when the stable master of Aldran Castle, kind old Dodonna, took pity on the starving boy and made him an apprentice in the stables.

Luke now spent most of his time mucking stalls and tending to the horses. All of the stable masters were impressed with Luke's skill. He'd always loved horses and riding. He enjoyed working with the team of horses they kept on his uncle's farm. He seemed to somehow know exactly what every horse in the stable needed. He almost felt as if he understood what they were saying, and they understood him.

While Luke's abilities made him popular among the stable masters, his peers tended to torment him. Though he was a handsome youth, with long golden hair, bronzed skin, and eyes that were bluer than a summer sky, he was also small and slender for his age, and rather shy. He was happier among horses than people. The other stable boys pushed him around or threw dirt at his back.

Luke's only human friends were two fellow servants who lived in the castle, a gypsy thief named Han Solowolf, and an elderly man who simply gave his name as Ben. Ben had saved Luke from a group of bandits who attacked him on the road to town. Luke suspected the elderly healer was the one who convinced Dodonna to give him the job in the stables. Cecil, the Organa family's loyal butler and translator, ran in fear from Ben at first. Arthur, the little mute blacksmith who could only speak with his hands, was more curious, circling him like a magpie.

Ben kept watch over Luke, Han, and the two servants whenever he could. He and Luke became good friends. He taught Luke his healing arts, and how to use a sword, a magical sword like those that belonged to the Knights of the Force Order. Only those who were members of the Force Order were able to make their swords glow with an unearthly light, one that could deflect any projectile shot or thrown at the bearer. The swords were said to be made from Khyber crystal, the strongest material in the Seven Kingdoms, which could only be worked by a true Force Knight.

For, to Luke's surprise, not only were the White and Black Knights of legend not vanished, but Ben sensed Force magic in him as well! It would explain his ability with the horses, how he could speak to them and hear their needs. Ben had been training him for several months now.

“A White Knight?” Han laughed as he leaned into the stall on a day more than a year after Luke's arrival. “They're just fairy tales.”

“That's not what Ben says.” Luke inspected the shoe on the shaggy brown horse before him.

“And you believed him?” The taller man showed off his lazy, charming smirk, the one that sent the heart of every bar maid and stable girl in the Seven Kingdoms a flutter. The scar on his chin stood out underneath. “He's just a crazy old hermit.”

Han Solowolf was a trader and thief who rode between kingdoms, selling spices, exotic fruit, or scrap metal to anyone who would pay him. Luke heard rumors that he was really a servant for unscrupulous war lords and greedy monsters, trading gold for credits to gamble with. He lived alone on his wits, with only his faithful, shaggy bark-brown Wookie Stallion Chewbacca for company. Han trusted Luke; Chewie would let no one but Han and the younger boy tend to him. He met him when he'd once brought spices to the palace kitchen shortly after he and Chewie were attacked on the road. He'd been so impressed with Luke's kindness to Chewbacca, Chewbacca became as much Luke's horse as Han's.

Luke was almost in awe of the handsome, roguish adventurer...when his arrogance and stubbornness didn't have him ready to strangle him. Han's bright hazel eyes were always sparkling with wit and humor, and he was never without a good story about his many adventures on the road and in the kingdoms he'd visited. He had a strong, cocky gait and a scruffy mane of reddish-brown hair that was always blowing about in in the breezes. He was also very much a cynic, and refused to believe anything Ben and Luke told him about the Force and the powers it granted.

“Ben is a great man!” Luke shot back angrily.

“Yeah,” Han grumbled, “great at getting you into trouble. How many times were you stuck with extra chores because you were messing around with that over-sized carving knife of his instead of working?”

“It only happened twice!” Luke frowned as he pulled a stone out of Chewbacca's shoe. The large horse neighed in protest, but Luke was able to calm him. “Well, maybe three times.”

Han patted the elaborately carved Endor-wood longbow and quiver of arrows slung on his back. “What you really need is to learn how to shoot. Silly religions ain't gonna help ya when you have five hundred arrows comin' at you all at once, kid.”

Luke finally got to his feet. “I don't think I have to worry about that, at least, not now. Not until Ben finishes my training. Then I can go and have adventures.”

That was when Cecil and Arthur hurried in, their arms waving in delight. “Luke, sir! Captain Solowolf!” Cecil had heard Han's many stories about how he'd once been a soldier in the Imperial squadrons and insisted on calling him “Captain,” even though Han had been dishonorably discharged and hadn't been anything in years.

Han smirked. “What is it, Goldenrod?” Cecil was tall and thin and had no sense of humor. He was the butt of many jokes at the palace, most of which he ignored. He was too eager to do his duties to pay the snickering any mind. Han thought that odd walk of his and the stiff, old-fashioned gold butler's uniform he always wore made him look like those metal men he'd heard some woodcutters used now.

“There's going to be a ball tonight!” The dark-haired butler handed a poster to Luke. “At the palace ballroom, promptly at 6 o'clock. Every unmarried man is to attend.”

Arthur followed closely behind, as he always did. Despite their different jobs and temperaments, he and Cecil were inseparable. Arthur was short, squat, and hot-headed, with bushy silver hair and a silver-black beard. His fingers were already flying, making out symbols and words, his face clearly reading that Cecil left a few important things out.

“Yes, yes, Arthur, I know.” Cecil turned from his friend's flying fingers to the two men and the horse. “Arthur just reminded me that one of the main reasons for this event, in addition to introducing Her Royal Highness to the court, is for her to select the man she will eventually wed.”

Luke frowned. “But that's not fair! She should be able to fall in love like everyone else, not choose a husband from a cattle call!”

Han shrugged. “That's how royalty works. She's lucky she's getting a ball. Most kings just marry their daughters off to the first prince whose kingdom needs protection.”

“That's awful!” Luke sighed at the poster, with its elegant script. “I wish I could go. I would love to meet the nobles, and the princess...” He sighed, his sky blue eyes filled with a yearning wistfulness. He finally shook his head. “I'm not even dressed right for a ball. These are the only clothes I have.” He indicated the tattered, dirty white tunic, threadbare tan hose and cloth vest, and worn boots he always wore.

Arthur's fingers were already flying. He went to the pile of hay where Luke hid the practice sword Ben gave him. His face looked a bit worried. Cecil's was even more so. “Arthur and I have heard there may be treachery afoot, sir. They say Lord Vader of the Kingdom of the Empire could be in attendance. I doubt King Bail and Queen Breha would have invited him, but he may arrive unannounced. He's a war lord, sir, and they're not known for their command of basic etiquette.”

Han made a face. “What can we do? We can't exactly storm the castle with the two of us, Chewie, Art, and Goldenrod.”

“Ben could help us!” Luke folded the poster and put it in his pocket. “We could ride to his cottage and tell him about the ball. He'll know what to do.”

Han shook his head. “Sorry, kid. You'll have to go alone. I have to talk to someone.” Chewie nudged his owner. “No, you stay with Luke. In fact, Luke, you ride Chewie to the old man's house.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “This is that important?”

Cecil made a face. “I'm afraid I can't ride with you either, Master Luke. I have my duties to attend to.” Arthur shook his head, his hands flying. “And I'm sure you have plenty of your own work to do!” Cecil glared at him. “Don't you have horseshoes and nails to make?” Arthur's fingers continued to fly. “It's not because I hate riding! I have a million preparations that must be done in time for the ball tonight!”

Luke brushed Chewbacca's unkempt mane. “Are you sure you don't want to come, Han?”

“Nahh.” Han shook his head. “I'll meet you and the old man at the Eisley Tavern on Mos Street in Aldran Town.”

Luke's blue eyes widened. “But that's in one of the worst parts of the city! We could be killed!”

Han showed off that smirk again. “You won't get killed. You have magic, remember?”


“But...” Luke protested to Han's back. His ever-present black leather gypsy vest and mostly-unbuttoned yellowed shirt were the last things visible before he leaped over a fence, whistling an unrecognizable but cheerful tune.

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