Luke's Girl

By Yatzee

yahtzee63@gmail.com

The forest moon of Endor was quiet, at last. After hour upon hour of shouting, cheering, and singing, the Rebel troops had finally fallen silent. Most of them were sleeping, probably incubating massive hangovers. Leia, heavily medicated by a mobile TwoOneBee, was curled up in the hammock where Han had left her; her shoulder wound was hopefully healing as she slept. The other wounds she’d sustained were less tangible, and no doubt slower to heal.

On the night before, when Leia had confessed the full truth about her parentage to Han, he’d said nothing; he just held her and let her rage against the cruel irony, that could have made Darth Vader her biological father. What she’d said had made no difference in Han’s love for her—nothing could, anymore—but it had shaken him. Profoundly.

He’d kept his fears and confusion to himself; right now, Leia was in too much pain herself to take on the additional burden of reassuring him. The night before, just after she’d learned the truth—she’d been crying. Leia never cried, never—and yet she’d wept brokenly in Han’s arms. He’d known then that something had pierced her to the core. Han didn’t intend to further burden her with his misgivings until he’d come to some kind of peace with them.

And this brought him to Luke.

He caught up with his friend as Luke was preparing to jump on a rocket scooter. “Hey—where you headed?”

“There’s something I should take care of,” Luke said, rather vaguely.

“Mind if I tag along?” Han asked.

Luke looked at him carefully for a moment, then smiled. “Sure. Hop on.” He patted the seat behind him.

Han took hold of his friend’s waist as they shot off through the woods of Endor’s moon. Dawn’s light was only just creeping through the vast trees; all around, he could see the wreckage of AT-AVs, the abandoned stormtrooper armor, the sleeping Ewoks. All evidence of the furious battle they’d just fought, and won—Han was glad to see it. Otherwise, he’d have had trouble believing it.

They’d defeated the Empire. They’d won the war.

No matter what else weighed on his mind now, that was reason enough to take heart.

Finally, some time after they’d pulled away from the Rebel encampment, Luke slowed the scooter to a stop. Han jumped off a moment after his friend and glanced around the tiny glade. “What are we doing here?”

In answer, Luke gestured towards a smoldering pile of wood. Han looked at it, first uncomprehending; then, as he stared, shapes were made clear. A boot. An artificial hand. A helmet—all in black—

He shuddered as he recognized the mask of Darth Vader, there in the smoking woodpile.

“I cremated him last night,” Luke said quietly. “His biological remains are gone now. But I didn’t want to leave the armor here.” He gestured at the charred metal.

“I can see why,” Han agreed. Every last shred of that monster should be destroyed.

But Luke’s next words were spoken with a gentleness that Han was unable to account for. “I don’t want anyone taking this as a trophy.”

Luke lifted the blaster he’d brought and fired; the helmet sparked into blue-white flames and disintegrated into dust. Two more shots ensured that the rest of his armor met the same fate.

Han stared at the remains of the funeral pyre for a few moments; then he turned to look at his friend. Luke’s face was lined with grief—yes, grief. For the monster that had been Darth Vader.

And for his father, Han reminded himself: his father, and Leia’s.

He remembered Luke’s face as it had been only three and a half years ago; could that guileless kid have been so quickly replaced by this weathered, tragic man? Han felt a brief pang of loss; it was the boy who had first trusted and befriended him. And the boy would never return.
All of it seemed impossible. And yet it was true.

“I can’t believe that he was your father. Yours and Leia’s. That doesn’t make any sense to me,” Han confessed.

“Sometimes it doesn’t make sense to me either. But you have to remember—he wasn’t always the creature you knew. He was Anakin Skywalker, once. A Jedi Knight, a pilot, a husband. A good man.”

“So what happened?”

Luke held one hand to his forehead. “He was overtaken by the Dark Side. It’s seductive, Han. I know how seductive it can be. But once you go over to it—it consumes you. Forever, it dominates your destiny. As it did his.”

Han frowned as he looked over at Luke. “You mean, it nearly got you? You nearly became—what he was?” The horror of that, the sheer incomprehensibility of his beloved friend being so twisted and evil, sickened him.

Surely Luke would deny it. But instead, he nodded slowly. “Yes, Han. It nearly happened. I’ll never be able to promise you that it won’t happen. I’ll have to struggle against the Dark Side for the rest of my life.”

“And Leia? Will she—I mean, could she—”

“If Leia decides to explore her powers through the Force, as I hope she will, then she, too, will have to contend with the Dark Side. She’ll fight it, Han. And you and I can fight with her. That will help.” Luke watched his friend’s face for a long moment before continuing. “But it could happen. I don’t think it’s likely, but the possibility will always be there.”

Han breathed in and out deeply, then regretted it as he coughed from the acrid, metallic smoke in the air. “I can’t imagine that.”

“Don’t try. It’s better for us all if we concentrate on all the good that might come out of this. Leia might someday be a Jedi Knight, just as I am; together, the two of us could begin rebuilding the order. That’s worth fighting for.”

Fighting again. Hadn’t they just won a war? Han sighed, mightily tired. Still, he couldn’t let the subject drop yet. “This strength in the Force—it runs in your family?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Then our children will have to face this too?”

“Probably. We can only resolve to be strong for them. To have learned enough to guide them along the true path.” Luke was silent for a moment before he actually began to smile. “Children, huh?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, we haven’t really talked about that yet, but—I love her, Luke. I’ll be with her as long as she’ll have me. And that means—anyway, I hope it means kids.”

“Well, well, well.” Luke looked insufferably pleased with himself. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I was afraid I’d have to ask whether your intentions towards my sister were honorable.”

Han laughed. “The first honorable intentions I ever had!”

“I doubt that,” Luke said softly.

After a pause, Han continued, “Your sister. That’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“In some ways. But in others, it makes a lot of sense. As soon as Ben told me, a lot of things that had confused me suddenly came clear. It puts our relationship in perspective.”

They were silent for a while longer, before Han finally managed to ask, “But you loved her, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I loved her.” Luke ran his hands through his sandy hair. “I still do. But it’s not the same thing at all, now.”

“You couldn’t just quit feeling that way about her overnight.” Han couldn’t imagine falling out of love with the Princess; he studied his friend’s face carefully, looking for signs of the pain he was sure Luke still carried with him.

“No, I couldn’t. It takes three months, ten days, and, oh, about four hours.” For the first time in far too long, Luke laughed.

“What? I don’t follow.”

“After Bespin, Leia told me that she’d fallen in love with you. It didn’t surprise me—I mean, it was a long time coming, we both saw that—but that was the first time I knew it for sure. And I knew that we were going to get you back or die trying. So I started the work of changing my love for her. And it took about three months before I really came to terms with it. But I did learn to bear it, Han. Good thing, too, as it turns out.”

Han stood staring at his friend for a long moment. “You were willing to walk away from her—for me?”

“You were willing to do the same for me,” Luke pointed out. “You tried to yesterday; Leia told me. Don’t think I don’t know what that must have cost you. That means a lot.”

“Yeah, well, you know I would’ve—I mean, for you, I’d—” Han paused, then raised one eyebrow at Luke. “Are we about to get all mushy here?”

“Yes, I’d say we’re definitely in danger of it,” Luke agreed.

“Well, then, why don’t we—let’s just say that I—

“Han—I know.”

They stood side by side for a long time after that, studying the ashen remains before them; Han was able, at least for a moment, to feel some sorrow. Not for Vader himself—it would be a cold day in hell before he ever learned to see Darth Vader as anything but the heartless killer he’d known. But he did at least see the murdered possibility—a wise and loving father, raising his two children as they grew up side by side. That had been lost forever. That was worth grieving for.

The sun finally crowned the horizon; the brighter light brought Han back to the here and now. “We ought to start back, Luke,” he said, stretching his sore muscles. “Leia’s probably going to wake up soon; she’ll want us there.”

“You’re right,” Luke agreed. “You always think of her first.”

“That’s my job.”

“Promise me—” Luke’s voice trailed off for a moment. When their eyes met again, Han could see the last embers of the boy’s first love. The last evidence of the boy who had been. “Promise me you’ll take care of my girl.”

“Always,” Han said.

THE END

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