This is a very, very old story of mine, written about two decades ago that I found again recently. It was originally in a fanzine "Shadowstar" - I believe. It's a short selection of scenes from times in Luke's life as he went from farm boy to Jedi Knight. Any errors, or typos, are mine alone.
Disclaimer: Star Wars and its characters and situations belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I just borrow the toys, play around with them and hand them back - mostly intact.
Reflections
It was quiet now, peaceful. The lights and noise of the night had gradually dimmed, as many weary, but contented, hearts had retreated to secluded corners of the village, or returned to the fleet that remained in orbit above the moon, keeping a watchful eye for any remaining danger. However, few would, or even could, catch slumber this night. There was too much to think of, too much to remember and too many future decisions to be made.
He sat alone below the cool canopy of the overhanging branches and sipped lightly at the warm liquid he held in the rough wooden tumbler. He grimaced slightly at the sour taste - too much citrus juice, he surmised to himself, but the fluid would lift the edge from his thirst. He set the tumbler down and turned his attention skyward, watching the winking lights of the ships above and again he whispered the words.
"It's over." Luke Skywalker smiled, perhaps a little ruefully, to himself as once more he felt no reaction to the statement. He believed the words, but somehow, he could not quite grasp them and he was sure there were many others that night who felt the same. The war had gone on for so long, the battles dragging from one to another until they became intermingled, the memory of one becoming the memory of another. The faces of those lost fading from mind and becoming only vaguely remembered names.
He had to physically shake himself from the deepening, sombre thoughts. He should be happy, he should be content: everything had turned out right, everything was the way it should be. The Galaxy was free from Palpatine's creeping evil that had ravaged the systems. The peoples could now build on the foundation the Alliance had laid this day and shirk off the Empire's remnants. However, he was restless, the glimmer of agitation nudging him on. It was a familiar feeling, but he had not expected it this time, not now, not after all that had happened. Was it wrong to want? Was it wrong to feel the need for something more?
He knew so much, and yet, he held no answers for himself.
He sighed, abruptly feeling alone; a sudden, awful feeling of empty isolation. He was the last of his kind, the only being in the known systems to hold the knowledge and power of the Force. It was a terrible responsibility and he felt its weight crushing him, pushing him down.
So much power. So much temptation.
The feeling intensified as he looked to the stars and a familiar longing washed through him. It was like those other times when he had wished for more, when he had silently uttered the cry for companionship. He glanced at the drink in his hand, at the black glove.
He had cried out, and they had answered.
ooOOoo
"Luke, I'm shutting the power down!"
"All right, I'll be there in a few minutes," Luke replied quickly to his guardian before glancing back to the surrounding horizon for one final, futile search for the missing Artoo unit. "Boy, am I gonna get it!" He remarked more to himself than to the golden droid standing by his side. "You know," he began again, his anger growing at his own foolishness at being tricked into removing the astrodroid's restraining bolt. "That little droid's going to cost me a lot of trouble."
"Oh, he excels at that, sir." See Threepio returned cheerfully. He scanned the area briefly himself before following his new master into the homestead.
The garage was dark when they returned, Owen Lars having directed the power from the utility area to the living quarters. Luke gestured to the room. "Make yourself at home." He sounded dejected.
"Thank you, sir." The droid sat himself upon a nearby storage crate. Luke turned to leave, but hesitated and turned to regard the robot with concerned eyes.
"Threepio?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Stay put, huh?"
"Of course, sir."
Luke nodded, not entirely convinced by Threepio's answer, and turned toward the living area. Not wishing his uncle to think there was anything a miss he wiped the worry from his face and straightened his shoulders. He stepped into the kitchen looking for something to nibble on before retiring. He was hungry after walking out on his evening meal.
"What have you been up to?" His uncle's gravel tones met him as soon as he entered the room.
"Nothing." He lied innocently as he reached into the nearest cabinet and drew out a box of his aunt's home made cookies. "Why?"
"Because you've got that 'Don't look at me, I've done nothing' look about you."
Luke grimaced inwardly: his uncle could read him too well. He placed the box on the work surface gazing at the smooth transparent lid as he answered. "Why do you always doubt me?"
"Because I'm always right."
Luke turned to stare at Owen, his mouth hanging open in mock astonishment, his eyes blazed from behind. "Yeah, sure," he retorted trying to hide his guilt behind irritation. "Like the time you accused me of..."
"Luke."
Beru Lars' soft warning from behind was enough to stop him mid-sentence. Silently he returned to the task of gathering up edibles, but his movements were stiff with anger. Beru handed him a glass of milk and a platter for the cookies.
"Now," She told him, quietly. "Go to bed.
Luke glanced sulkily back at his uncle, then kissed his aunt on the cheek. "Good-night, Aunt Beru." He turned his back on the elder man and left the room.
"You're too soft on the boy, Beru."
"And you, Owen, still regard him as a child."
That was all Luke overheard before he had reached his room and the door closed behind him. He set the glass and the plate of cookies on top of his bureau and sank down onto the yielding mattress on his bed, his head immediately falling into his hands; his anxiousness over the missing droid returning. He knew he was being childish in not explaining the situation to his uncle, but he knew that Owen Lars would not react well, especially given the amount of money the farmer had shelled out for the mismatched duo.
He reached out for a cookie, bit into it and chomped furiously as his thoughts raced through his problem. He had to get the droid back before Owen could miss it. It was too dangerous to go at night, he would have to leave at early light before his uncle rose and find the Artoo unit's trail. What was it Threepio had said?
"He says he's the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a resident of these parts..."
Obi-Wan Kenobi. Luke considered the name as he sipped at the tumbler of milk and finished the first cookie.
"I don't think he exists anymore. He died about the same time as your father."
His uncle's meal-time words returned and they suddenly struck Luke as odd. Luke had not mentioned that Threepio had said the man lived in the area and yet his uncle seemed to know him, or rather had known him, if Owen's words were to be believed. What were the odds against two strange droids who were, more than likely, from off planet and his guardian knowing the same man?
"I don't think he exists anymore. He died about the same time as your father."
At first Owen had seemed unsure about this Obi-Wan's existence and yet in the next breath had pronounced him dead. And, what did Kenobi have to do with his father? And, why then had his uncle, who had brought his father into the conversation in the first place, suddenly cut him short when he had attempted to find out more on the subject?
Luke sighed heavily, he would receive no answers to these questions, at least, not from his uncle. He downed the remaining milk and crunched through the cookies. He was probably making a canyon out of a womprat burrow, but he couldn't help his curiosity. The light of his room flickered and died. His uncle had shut down the remaining power and directed the electricity only to the most vital of equipment. Luke quickly undressed and slipped into bed, wearily resting his head against the pillow.
Perhaps, he told himself, he would receive some answers when, and if, he found the wandering Artoo unit. The main trouble would be finding the trail; the little droid could have gone in any direction. Luke decided his best possibility was the Jundland Wastes as it was in that general direction that old Kenobi was rumoured to live. His uncle could be wrong about there being no relationship between Ben and this Obi-Wan.
Luke smiled into the darkness and turned on his side, seeking comfort beneath the thin sheet. He burrowed his head deeper into the pillow determined he'd made his decision and that his problem was just about solved. He closed his eyes and willed slumber to descend.
But... what would he do if he could not find the droid or, more precisely, what would his uncle do? Ground him? Demand payment for the missing astromech? Forbid him from ever leaving for the Academy? With his low mood, Luke decided that all three, combined, were almost a certainty.
"Stop it, Skywalker." He told himself firmly, whispering into the pillow. "It'll turn out all right. How far can he get?"
He couldn't sleep. There were too many thoughts, too many circling questions that would not allow him to rest. He turned onto his back, placed his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. It was not only the matter of the missing droid that was nagging at him, there was more: a frustration that had been nibbling in the background, a yearning that had been growing throughout the last few years, until the departure of his friend, Biggs, to a Starship and the arrival of two droids with a cryptic message had brought the feeling to a head.
He rose from the mattress and padded to the tiny window of his room that faced into the sunken courtyard. He drew back the shade and peered out at the deep night sky. He stared at the stars, their lights beckoning, drawing him to them, their presence giving him a peculiar sense of peace, and yet - there was a longing he could not place, a loneliness he did not understand. It was that same curious feeling that had risen earlier in the evening as he had watched the suns set.
"One day," he vowed firmly to the darkness. "One day."
ooOOoo
Luke took another sip of the sour liquid, shifted his body on the wooden platform and rested his back against the bark of the tree. He winced as stiff muscles protested the movement. His encounter with the Emperor Palpatine and his father had left him sore. He relaxed once more, driving out any thoughts of that recent conflict: he wanted to concentrate, he wanted to seek his future path and, although he was using his past tracks as guidance, he had no wish to relive the trauma and pain of the last few hours. His eyes and his attention focused, once more, on the galaxy's teeming suns.
He now knew the answers to the questions he had asked that last night at home. He smiled sadly, the action of one who now had the gift of hindsight. He had sworn that night that one day he would leave the farm, he would pursue his dreams to their conclusions, that he would be more than a lonely, dominated farm-boy.
One day? If only he had known it would be the next day!
He had followed his instincts and had set off at suns rise toward the Jundland Wastes. His guess that Ben and this Obi-Wan were related, although not exactly correct, did have some basis. Kenobi had responded to the cry of company Luke had silently uttered. It was not the first time they had met, but this time their relationship had a new edge, a different meaning. Ben had dropped his crazy hermit guise, had supplied Luke with a background he could scarcely believe, he had opened the youth to recognize the first stirrings of an awakening power and in the process had subtly changed Luke's dreams and aspirations. Gone was the desire to enter the Academy, his focus was now that of a Jedi Knight.
Unfortunately, the relationship was not to last and Luke was to find himself alone once more. Only, this time he was alone with a growing power he didn't fully understand and couldn't completely control.
ooOOoo
Commander Luke Skywalker purposely made his way through the ice corridor of the months old base. He was still clad in his flight suit having just returned from a less than successful mission. He cursed silently to himself; no more would the Rebellion receive food supplies from the people of Cusrean and it was left to him to explain the reasons to the Princess and General Rieekan. He skipped passed another pilot and threw a quick greeting. He was about to break into a run when a blurred figure hurled itself at him from a doorway and caught him in the midriff. They tumbled into the corridor wall and fell to the ground somewhat entangled.
Luke lay dazed, winded, and unsure of what had happened. A ground soldier stepped over the two prone figures and mumbled something Luke didn't catch. He heaved in a breath, groaned and sat up at the same time as his assailant.
"Like I told ya', kid," smiled a self-satisfied Solo. "You've got to improve those reflexes."
Luke glared at him. "I knew it was you."
Han laughed, clearly not believing Luke's lie. "Sure you did, and I like emergency rations." He grimaced as he mentioned his pet hate. "You owe me that fifty."
Luke pulled himself to his feet and rubbed his aching mid-section. "You'll need to get used to the rations." He told the Corellian, enjoying the look of suspicion that spread over the man's features.
"Why?" Han questioned, slowly. "I thought you..."
"Commander Skywalker report to debriefing." The overhead announcement broke into the second half of the spacer's question.
"I gotta go." Luke told him and he started down the corridor.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Han ran after him. "What do you mean?"
Luke shrugged. "Cusrean pulled out."
"Uh-oh," Han breathed. "Her Highness ain't gonna like this."
"Yeah," Luke agreed, dismally. "Tell me about it."
"What did you do?" Solo's tone was one of accusation. He had temporarily forgotten the money Luke owed him for losing their bet now that his stomach's health appeared to be in jeopardy.
"Nothing!" Luke protested.
"Well, what were you supposed to do?!" He just couldn't face another meal of emergency rations.
"I did everything I was told, and then some. But, they had already made up their minds before we got there. I think they expected me to be older, wiser, more like the Jedi Knights of the Republic and baled on the deal when they realised I wasn't even trained." Luke told him as they neared debriefing. His footsteps slowed as he stared at the closed door. "Han?" he asked tentatively, as he eyed the door nervously. "'You want to give me some moral support?"
The amusement returned to the Corellian's face when he saw how uncomfortable his friend was. "Sure, as long as you don't drag me into it."
They entered the room and the Princess Leia greeted them. "You're late, Luke... and why are you here, Captain?"
ooOOoo
"Well," Leia sighed as she sat back in her chair after listening to Luke's report. "I suppose we can't really blame you, Luke, for the Cusrean decision, but I must admit that you could improve your diplomatic skills."
"I'm a pilot," Luke reminded her.
Han laughed heartily beside the younger pilot. "That's what I said about his reflexes."
The Princess looked to the elder man with interest, a sparkle of fun apparent in her hazel eyes despite the previous bad news. "That reminds me. Who won the bet?"
"Guess," Luke muttered morosely with a wilting look to Han.
Leia couldn't hide her smile. "He'll never let you live this down, Luke."
"I know."
"Aw, come on," Han protested loudly though good-naturedly. "Am I that kinda guy?"
"Yes!" Luke and Leia answered as one.
Luke pulled himself from his chair and crossed the room to the hot pot of cafin.
"Anyone want a refill?" His friends shook their heads. He poured himself another cupful as the door opened and General Rieekan breezed in.
"Sorry I'm late, got held up. Ah, Commander, I'll take one of those." He sat himself in Luke's seat. "Now tell me, what happened at Cusrean?"
Luke passed a pleading glance to Leia as he handed the General a steaming cup. She picked up his meaning and began relating Luke's mission as the pilot crossed the floor to another seat. It was set beside the viewing window and faced the darkening Hoth snow fields. He sat down and placed his cup on the ledge as he listened to the Princess and General discuss the food situation, and Han as he chipped in a few suggestions of his own.
Luke knew he should pay close attention to the conversation, but he was tired. Fatigue tugged at his eyelids and drugged his thoughts. He wanted only to return to his quarters and sleep the day into the past. The flight to Cusrean had taken a whole day, the wait for the underground committee was several hours and the arguments and pleas had dragged into the planet's night. Then, without a meal, without rest, Luke and his escort pilots had been sent hastily on their way.
The talking in the room droned on and he closed his eyes.
Dozing, his thoughts wandered from the present discussion to problems of his own, mundane though they may be: Artoo required replacement panelling and a dent removed after his last fall from the hull of the Millennium Falcon. There were several reports still to write, two men to discipline and a Tauntaun saddle to collect from supplies before his patrol tomorrow. He opened his eyes, gazed out at the frosty night, the bright sky, and his thoughts hung on sarcasm. Here he was, a fighter pilot, something he had dreamed of being and what was his most important duty at the moment? Placing sensors around the base using an ancient form of transport because the snowspeeders couldn't handle the cold.
Snowspeeders which couldn't operate in snow; now there was a novelty! A great pilot everyone said, but a lousy diplomat who had just lost the Alliance Important supplies because he hadn't met the Cusrean's expectations. He wasn't a Jedi Knight.
He relaxed further into the chair wanting to chase the depression he felt descending. And, what had happened to his other dream, his vow to an old friend? His hand went to his lightsaber that was hanging from his belt.
He wasn't a Jedi Knight.
Three years ago he had first heard of the Force, three years ago he had first learned that he possessed the power, courtesy of a father he had never known, three years ago he had been opened to it and abandoned with the frustration of not knowing what to do with it. He was also afraid of it. Afraid that when he did attempt to use it, albeit on a small scale, he was doing it wrong, using it wrong, tempting the side that Ben, even then, had warned him about.
"Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force."
He glanced to the flickering stars, reached out, and gasped inaudibly. He could almost touch the life of the galaxy. It sliced through him as he opened further, unable to stop the sensations. He could almost sense them all: joy, grief, love, the tingle of anticipation. This was what he had, what he grasped but could not completely comprehend. The Jedi Knights were dead, now mere legend, and could offer him no assistance when he cried out for it. If only Ben had not sacrificed himself.
He closed his eyes as he floated and danced among the emotions of the rebel base, as the Force stirred within him, surged through him and grew with trembling potential. Then there was a tug, a slight pull. Luke hesitated, pushed the feelings back and almost opened his eyes. The feeling came again, a reassuring, strangely alluring sensation that drew him on further. He followed.
It was then he saw the twisting darkness and he drew back seeking something to grasp, something to halt his spiralling fall. There was fear here, hate and such terrible power. He struggled against the vacuum, the darkness that drew him to it. It was then he became aware of another's presence. It was affectionate, coaxing him eagerly to step forward, and it terrified him.
Panicked, he pulled back and the other's anger grew at his reluctance. Help, he needed help. He couldn't continue alone, not now that his experimental searches were ripped from his control.
"Luke?"
The concerned question from the Princess chased the illusion, the reaching night vanished, the personality retreated empty-handed and frustrated.
"Luke?" The question was repeated. "Are you okay?"
Luke opened his eyes to find the Princess, the General and Han looking at him anxiously. He blinked back sleep and hauled himself upright in the chair. "Ah," he began, embarrassed at falling asleep during the discussion. "I'm fine. I guess I was more tired than I thought. Sorry." He hoped he hadn't cried out during the nightmare.
"If you're sure..." Leia began again.
"I'm sure." He reached for his cup of cafin. It was cold but he drank it all the same. "You may be excused if you wish, Commander," Rieekan told him. "Cusrean is a long flight from here and..."
"I'm fine," Luke repeated firmly, slightly bemused by the concern, but worried too, perhaps he had said something while asleep. "I'd rather stay." He did not particularly want to be alone at that moment.
The others reluctantly accepted his words and returned to what had become a heated conversation. Luke glanced out at the galaxy: A dream? He wanted to convince himself it was, but found himself unable to. He shivered, chilled, and once more his hand strayed to his lightsaber.
ooOOoo
He drew his legs in as a crowd of passing soldiers stepped over them - he had not realized that by sitting there he was blocking the walkway. He glanced around, but seeing no further traffic he decided to stay where he was. A light breeze grew, it gently blew his hair and softened the humidity of the evening. A small insect lighted on a leaf near his shoulder and he watched, fascinated, as it laid several glistening wet eggs and rolled the leaf around them to protect them from harm. It secreted a sticky resin that sealed the package and which, Luke guessed, would also be foul tasting to any prospective predator. Then it took to the air once more.
The Jedi smiled at the tiny parcel that contained the creature's future off-spring. He had just witnessed a miracle: life, or rather the creation of life. The state of matter which drew on the energy of the Force and which created that same energy. It was a complicated process and Luke at that moment decided merely to accept it without questions, there was time enough in the future for such pondering. He acknowledged its existence and his own, and the pleasures and dangers they both could present. He had learned those from experience.
A dream? Luke thought not. His three years with the Alliance had taught him much: he had learned to respect, to command, he had developed skills, control and discipline, several of the many facets he would require in later life as a Jedi Knight. He had not been abandoned, as he had first thought, but had been given an essential training ground where he could mature until ripe for more intense instruction. However, his maturity, his increasing strength had attracted more than Obi-Wan and Yoda. That 'dream' had been his first mental contact with his father and his Emperor, and their malignancy. It also represented another turn in his life: Yoda had replied to his need for knowledge, his need for the company of his own, as had Vader.
The Dark Lord had found a way to bait the apprentice Jedi, a way to bring him from hiding at a crucial stage of his training. He had revealed a relationship, one that Luke, in his childhood, had clung to.
A father.
However, instead of joy there was only terror, a wrenching fear that had thrown him into despair. He had been lied to once more by those he had trusted most and yet it was to them he clung. He had retreated from Vader and as he fell back from the Dark lord, as he plunged into the depths of the city he had sensed, through his own emotions, those of his father. There was disbelief, anger, quiet fear and grief, and later, as he had rested on board the Millennium Falcon, he had felt them again. As the freighter had escaped into lightspeed, as Vader's probing thoughts had retreated, the man had revealed more to Luke, a familiar feeling which Luke in later months clutched with a firm belief: the need was there, the need to be with those of his own. It was submerged, denied, but there nonetheless.
Luke had learned much during the Bespin duel and the months after, and he approached his father the second time, if not with greater confidence, then greater understanding and renewed strength. He was on even terms, he may not be a full knight, but neither was Vader: Anakin had fallen before his training was complete.
However, Luke also entered the confrontation with a disadvantage - his knowledge of Leia.
ooOOoo
He stepped from the spiralling walkway onto the deep grass of the forest floor. He walked on, willing himself not to look back at the Ewok village he had just left; afraid if he did his determination to see this final confrontation to a conclusion would be lost in the night air. He hesitated, staring into the dark forest before him, searching for the correct path, not only physically but also mentally. A conclusion, an ending, but what form would it take? Who would win, who would lose, what would be broadcast on the holonet within the next few hours?
He smiled, chiding himself. Yoda was correct: always in motion was the future, difficult to see. Besides, he told himself, if a man could see his destiny that man may attempt to run from it, and Luke was resolute that he would see the path he had chosen to its rightful outcome, even if it meant his own death.
He could not stop himself and his attention and his thoughts turned to a high cross-bridge in the trees above. In the flickering flames of the Ewoks' torch light he could see two figures clasped in an embrace. From one he could sense grief and despair, from the other there was confusion born from misunderstanding.
Leia! What would happen to his twin should he die? Who would be there for her when the call came? Who would be there to satisfy her growing curiosity? Who would teach her? And if he failed, if he succumbed to the beckoning shadows... Who would, who could, protect her?
He shook his head not wanting to contemplate the other path, the route his father had been lost upon. But, Leia! She would be so vulnerable, so open to assault.
He looked to the sky, to the hanging orb of the Death Star. His father was so near, the Dark Lord's presence was strong having grown since their encounter on Bespin. A throbbing potency which even now probed at the feather edges of Luke's feelings. Cautious, yet wishing Vader to know he was approaching, Luke opened himself to the touch, while at the same time searching his father, looking for that one glimmer of hope he had sensed on Cloud City.
He was not disappointed: behind the power there was uncertainty, beneath the darkness there was an eagerness to possess the light of his son, to know it for himself.
Luke walked on, looking for the Imperial patrol he knew was ahead of him. He closed himself from Vader and pushed the Princess from his thoughts with an apology, but with her existence hidden she would be best protected and he could concentrate without anxiety for her safety. He pressed through the bushes as he spotted a flicker of flames from behind the foliage and once more he felt the yearning that had seized him on Tatooine and later, on Hoth: the need to be with those who understood. The feeling was strong, the pull their close proximity exerted was magnetic. The fear of such feelings was small, but there: he wanted to be with his father!
He reached the edge of the clearing. There were three biker scouts, a squad stormtroopers and a uniformed officer sitting by an open fire. Luke placed his hands on his head and stepped from the forest. The soldiers turned quickly in surprise at his sudden appearance and their weapons rose to point at his chest.
"I surrender," He told them calmly.
Amazement played over the officer's face, but he motioned to the troopers to take the Rebel. They removed his weapon and bound him. The Imperial took the lightsaber from one of the soldiers and turned it curiously in his hand. He looked at Luke with unhidden interest."Skywalker," it was a statement. "Where are your companions?"
"I'm alone," Luke answered steadily.
The Imperial stepped closer, studying Luke's passive face. He was wary of Rebel tricks. He turned to his men. "Search the immediate area."
"That won't be necessary." Luke still held his voice level. A search would delay his meeting with the Dark Lord. "I told you, I'm alone."
The officer gestured for the troopers to continue, ignoring Luke's words, then returned his attention to the Rebel.
"Surrendering?" he questioned with amusement. "Why?"
Luke smiled, unable to keep himself from baiting the man. "Do I need a reason?"
The Imperial's face turned angry. He lifted his gloved hand, preparing to strike the younger man.
Luke did not flinch. "No," he told the man. The officer lowered his arm as puzzlement filled his features. Luke continued now that he held the man's full attention. "Inform Lord Vader you have taken a prisoner, and recall your men." A slight nod and a repeat of his words was Luke's affirmative answer. He then crossed to the fire and sat, watching as the Imperial acted as requested. The fire warmed him in the cool of the evening, the dancing flames cast light into the dark. It was not long before he heard the first beats of an approaching Walker's steps. He smiled to himself; it would be over soon.
ooOOoo
"It's over," he said once more and again felt no reaction. No, it wasn't over. It was merely the beginning of the end for the Empire. He looked to the stars now understanding why they had drawn him to them; why he felt such need when he regarded them. They teemed with life, pulsated with the power of the Force, but more importantly they held those with the gift of perception, those whose awareness remained untapped and unused. It was his duty to seek them out and show them the beauty and strength of the light, to warn against the penalties of the dark, to regroup, re-establish the Knighthood the Galaxy had lost.
Now, at the beginning, his destiny could truly find fulfilment. He reached for the cooling tumbler.
"Revolting, isn't it?"
He glanced up to find Leia standing above him. He nodded laughing, looking back at the sour drink in his hand. "Yes!"
She smoothed the back of her dress and sat beside him.
"Something wrong?" He questioned.
"No," She answered quickly. "Well, it's just..." She sighed, heavily, annoyed at being unable to find the correct words with which to express herself. "It feels so... strange, and new, and..." She pressed her hand to her chest. "I feel so excited. I can't explain it any other way." She looked at him with self-exasperation.
He smiled, recognizing himself from so long ago within her. "I understand," He told her. She had learned much during these past few hours, she had been opened by being told the truth and now she required the direction. Sitting with her he felt his previous emptiness, his need for company and his need to share fade. He doubted that it would ever return.
Leia's gaze turned from Luke to the sky, she smiled at the openness, the lights of space no longer blocked by a mechanical monstrosity. "Oh, Luke!" She whispered in awe. "Look at the stars!"
Luke drew her closer until her head rested upon her brother's shoulder and together they faced the galaxy.