Twins
Luke and Leia were trouble from birth. On opposite sides of the galaxy, they rebelled against the distance, thoughtlessly, unknowing.
Yoda sat close to the warm fireplace, watching the smouldering coals, and the Force flowed through him like a river, scenes from their lives streaming through his mind.
When Leia was seven years old, she fell from a tree and broke her arm. That day Luke somehow dropped from his uncle Owen's speeder, his arm broken, and if Owen didn't know better he would have sworn the boy had jumped out.
Luke first made love at age fourteen, to the Darklighters' kitchen girl while Biggs was away from home. Leia dreamed of heat and sudden pleasure, and woke, longing, wetness cooling between her thighs.
They both fantasized they were someone else. Luke yearned for adventure, for people depending on him; he wanted to stop digging in the barren earth and base his life in some higher, intangible plane. Leia had a vision of never leaving her home for the cold vastness of space, of getting dirty and running under the sunlight, of something physical to show for the fruits of her labor.
Yoda knew all these things. He knew their hidden desire for true family, for their mirror image, for the lineage that bound the paths of their lives. He knew their feelings of displacement. He knew their loneliness.
He did not know, could not know, how those needs had matured within them. He was not watching when they found one another, seemingly by chance, feeling a recognition and desire build up within them. He did not sense their hunger.
You're my sister, Luke had revealed, but somehow Leia had always known. She'd kissed him hard for Han's benefit, and tasted a part of herself in his mouth. Luke had felt only her mind, a crystalline presence, when he prayed for rescue in Cloud City.
They dream, still, sleep a conduit between them. In a blurring world of soft grasses, Luke's hands brush over her breasts and he feels what it feels for her to be touched. Leia is in a dim room, in his body, and she knows that aching sweetness he feels just before orgasm, knows the tightening that is her own, and yet not.
It cannot go on like this forever. One day they will see each other alone, and be unable to resist touching, caressing, exploring, his tongue hot in her mouth as she undoes the buttons on his waistband, her head falling back when he sucks the skin above her navel.
They will discover what is identical in their twinness, what they share now because they shared their mother's womb. They will both gasp at kisses behind their knees. They will both squirm, unable to be still for a moment, despite Luke's Jedi disciplines. He will be deep, deep inside of her, sitting with her on his lap so they are facing flush, close. They will find themselves drawn so deep into pleasure that it takes unclear moments to find their way out again, and they will know the closeness they have been searching for all these long years.