Chapter Text
The cold was all Luke had registered when he and master Yoda had landed in the frozen planet of Hoth. Of course it was, he was Tatooinian after all, and Naboo didn’t exactly have the coldest climate in the galaxy.
The point is, the cold was what stuck out to Luke when they’d landed. Now, though? It was the head rush.
The ceiling looked identical to the floor, icy stalagmites and stalactites - Luke had no idea which was which - and rocks the size of droids. He’d hoped a layer of snow would clie him in but the shelter the cave provided made that wishful thinking.
Embarrassingly, it had taken about twenty minutes for Luke to figure out that he was quite literally hanging from the ceiling, arms hanging above his head, just barely brushing the floor.
Of course, Luke would omit those details when he recounted the events to master Yoda - if he recounted the events to master Yoda.
A noise resonated through the tight space but Luke only registered it after the first couple times it sounded. He must’ve been more injured than he realised. Ignoring the sound for now, Luke took stock of his various wounds.
Broken left hand, probable concussion, broken ribs. Luke’s legs were okay, though, and he still had one hand. Better that than nothing.
The noise grew louder. Luke recognised it now, it was a growling sound, resonant but far more gravelly than a wookiee’s. The thought made Luke’s heart ached for his furry friend. He hasn’t seen Chewie and Han since that business in the Yavin system, almost a year ago. He wondered what they would-
It was there. It was right there, beady black eyes looking at Luke like a piece of meat. White fur, jagged horns, blood soaked fur. His blood, he realised dimly. Had he really lost that much?
Snapping to his senses with all the speed of a melting candle - did that metaphor even work? - Luke scanned his surroundings, if he could just find his lightsaber-
Stomp
One huge, flattened foot hit the ground, cracking the ice. The noise was quiet but loud to Luke’s ears. It hurt.
He grew more frantic, where was his lightsaber-
Stomp
The creature’s nose raised to the air, the fresh blood leaking from his face, his side, his neck-
Stomp
There! It was right there! His lightsaber! Luke reached out with the force but it wouldn’t answer, not in his panicked state, not like this. No, he couldn’t die not like-
Stomp
It was only a few paces now, its stench invading Luke’s nose. He had to block it out, had to block everything out.
Closing his eyes, Luke reached a hand out, searching for that familiarity, that part of his soul resting in his kyber, out of reach but not to his mind.
In an instant, the cool metal hit the palm of Luke’s left hand and he activated it, green light filling the dark space.
His eyes shot open and he slashed the saber in a wide arc at his feet, breaking and melting the ice. He hit the floor in a roll, shooting to his feet and slicing the air - and the wampa’s hand - throwing him off his balance with the momentum and the surprise that came with the fact that he’d had the strength for that.
The creature’s roar speared through Luke’s ear; it reeled back, agony following it as it doubled over, wailing all the way.
Luke could’ve killed it there. He could’ve slashed its throat or stabbed it through the chest. That would’ve been the smart thing.
He turned and ran. The wampa had simply been hungry, Luke couldn’t kill it for that. Besides, the hand wouldn’t be debilitating; the creature preyed on Bantha not Kraayt dragons.
Making it out of the cave, Luke ran as far as he could, legs moving one after the other with no input from his brain. If he could just make it back to the ship he’d be safe.
The ship… Luke slowed upon realising he had no idea where the ship was and no idea where he was heading. He knew he had to keep going but now that he’d slowed down his body seemed to give up. He fell over, landing hard on his broken hand. He felt a bone sticking out the skin, the cold making it almost too numb to feel. Almost.
Luke curled up; his robes were warm but not snowstorm proof. He really needed to get back to the ship. With no other idea of what to do, he reached blindly into the force, casting as wide a net as he could in his semi-delirious state. He called for Yoda, for anyone, as loud as he could into that power that usually came so naturally to him.
His last thought before passing out was of how mad his mother would be with him.