Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

C-3PO helped Little Luke get undressed while R2-D2 pulled out some lightweight trousers and a loose top from the wardrobe for him to put on as sleepwear. The boy was babbling about, completely unconcerned as the droid fumbled with his belts and sashes on his behalf.

To anyone unfamiliar with the Jedi, they might have thought him mad the way he spoke about time seemingly slowing down. The ability had given him more than enough warning to react to obstacles in the holosimulator. Apparently, his father also possessed this ability, and it was something to do with the Force. Artoo casually replied that he used to use it to podrace, which nearly blew Luke's mind.

"So that's why he's so good at flying!" 

His Daddy was so cool! Building his own racer? Illegal podraces? The best reflexes, super strong with the Force, awesome black armor? Learning more about him, even if it was just a little tidbit of information, warmed Luke's heart and made him feel all giddy and buzzy. Probably the last thing he should be right before bed, and C-3PO scolded his friend for it while Luke bounced on the mattress excitedly. 

But Artoo didn't feel bad. Seeing Luke's spirits so high after so many long, dreary days of misery, unmotivated, quiet, and lying in bed, he would always prefer his master to be so lively.

"Now, now, Master Luke," C-3PO could barely keep up with Luke's flailing arms, attempting to shove them into the sleeves of his night shirt now that the loose pants had been slipped up his legs, "I must ask that you calm down, else I will not be able to gift you the--"

Artoo, after a brief detour behind Luke's back, returned with a big furry thing held in one of his extraction claws. 

"Ar~too! You were not supposed to give that to him yet, my friend!" 

The droid spun his head although he were rolling his eyes and told Threepio to can it; Luke had earned it today with all his hard work.

"Well, I suppose..."

Luke, however, was simply staring at the brown fluffy offering with wide eyes. The sight was dreadfully comforting, as the very first thing it reminded him of was Chewbacca. But of course, it was much too small to be the Wookiee. It had to be something else...

He cautiously pulled the furball from R2-D2, turning it around and gasping when he saw the curved horns and realized what it was.

"A bantha! It's a bantha!" 

C-3PO hobbled forward, motioning with his hand while he explained, "It's not just any bantha toy, Master Luke. This is a special handmade toy that keeps nightmares away and--"

"Really?!" 

Artoo beeped in affirmation. 

"Yes, and--"

"But--how! When?"

C-3PO attempted once more to finish his sentence, but Artoo seemed more eager to explain and wouldn't stop his incessant blipping, so finally the golden droid gave up and simply stood at the bed's edge. 

It had been a combined effort between the three of them: First, R2-D2 had told Darth Vader about Luke's re-occuring nightmares, and had recommended some kind of comfort object. He hadn't shared with either Master that he'd gotten the idea itself from the way Anakin used to cling to his wife in bed during his own nightmares, and how, upon waking, her presence used to always calm him.

Perhaps Anakin recalled the memory--or perhaps he did not. Artoo hadn't inquired, but a few cycles later, his master had declared the comfort object would take the form of a bantha. Artoo was admittedly a bit relieved Luke wouldn't be getting a wife of his own, finding the boy too young...even if he was older than his father had been. There was a certain innocence about Luke that made everyone around him want to strive to preserve it.

He and C-3PO had then worked together to track down a craftsman on the edge of the outer rim; one from the Skywalkers' home planet who was selling pelts of hunted bantha fur. Expensive, of course, as it was not so easy to find a bantha without its loyal Tusken partner to protect it. 

With C-3PO's impressive negotiation skills (mostly Vader's intimidation), the merchant had been happy (terrified) to make them the plush using the pelt...and even cast a special spell upon it (nothing of the sort had been done, but it was the idea that counted)! R2-D2 didn't find it necessary to include the part about Vader slaughtering the merchant after the deed was done and confiscating all of his goods, and Luke, fascinated by the tale, was none the wiser.

"You did all that for me?" 

"It certainly was not easy, tracking that fellow down, Master Luke," C-3PO finally piped back up. Luke was thoroughly impressed, to the droid's pride.

"I bet!"

And somehow, his Daddy had just gotten even cooler in Luke's mind. To be fair...so did his droids. What a lucky boy he was, Prince of the Galaxy. If only his sister were here to enjoy it with him. If she'd just give their father a chance, she'd see how cool he was; how nice this situation could be. 

A bittersweet smile overtook Luke's lips as he hugged the plushie tight to his chest and finally lie down as he was meant to, letting C-3PO pull his sheets over him and tuck them around his form. 

"Thanks, both of you...I'm so lucky."

He'd have to thank Daddy, too, but he knew his Daddy was busy working and would be upset if he wasn't sleeping as he'd promised he would be. It would have to wait until tomorrow. 

"You're very welcome, Master Luke." 

He wriggled around in bed until he lie on his side, closing his eyes and bringing the bantha up to his face. The fur tickled his chin, and it was pleasant enough that he had to smile, withholding a little giggle.

"Goodnight, Threepio."

"Goodnight."

Luke listened as the droid shuffled off towards the door and dimmed the lights, casting the room in darkness that felt comfortable against Luke's closed eyelids. 

"Goodnight, Artoo," he added, not forgetting his good friend's involvement in the plot to gift him this adorable plushie. 

Artoo blipped a fond goodnight back towards his master before settling into his usual dark corner for keep guarding overnight. He gave Threepio a little bow before the droid exited the room and went to fulfill his other duties as planned.

"Goodnight, Bantha," Luke whispered to his plush, planting a little kiss between his horns. Then, he used what little remained of his energy from his busy day to project one last goodnight into the Force: 'Goodnight, Daddy.'

'Goodnight, Little One.'

The response had come back almost immediately, and such relief washed over Luke that his body entirely relaxed and he welcomed rest without complaint.