Chapter Text
Luke had started babbling a few weeks ago. Obi-Wan was relieved to see that the endless hours of talking at him, narrating what he was doing and telling him the stories Obi-Wan had been told in the creche were paying off.
Seven months since Obi-Wan’s world broke apart, drowned in a darkness so cold it burned and Obi-Wan had yet to actually interact with other people. He talked when he had to go to the markets to buy something for Luke or himself, but other than that Luke was the new center of his world. The toddler’s health and happiness were Obi-Wan’s priority, all he could think about at times, so much that he worried how deep he’d dare to fall.
So far Luke only strung random syllables together, not distinctly of one language more than another. Obi-Wan tried to speak Basic or Huttese with him, but sometimes he slipped, only knowing how to express himself in the language he had spoken since his childhood. It was pathetic how corroded the silver-tongue of the Negotiator had become.
“Ta!” Luke exclaimed cheerfully as he shook his toy. “Ba!”
Obi-Wan smiled at his charge and gently ran his fingers through Luke’s soft golden locks. “Yes, your toy is very impressive.”
“Ba,” Luke said again. “Baba, ta!”
He shook his toy again, holding it up to Obi-Wan. “Baba!”
When Obi-Wan accepted the toy, Luke beamed at him. “Baba.”
“Yes, Baba has got your toy,” Obi-Wan said.
And froze.
Luke noticed the shift in Obi-Wan’s demeanor immediately. He was too attuned to Obi-Wan, the way the Force flowed and ebbed around them and before Obi-Wan could get his emotions under control again, Luke’s face scrunched up and he began to cry.
“Oh, darling, don’t cry, sssh, I’m here,” Obi-Wan rambled as he scooped Luke up into his arms.
The crying toddler clung to Obi-Wan’s chest, sobbing inconsolably all the tears Obi-wan couldn’t shed.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan apologized. Speaking had suddenly become so exhausting, the words being stuck in his throat. “Baba- Baba is here. Shh, all will be well.”