Disclaimer: Star Wars does not belong to me. I make no profit from this. Star Wars created by George Lucas.
Author's Note: Because it's hard to see a movie like that and not wonder what anybody's been thinking.
The Jedi stood on the edge of the cliff, watching the ocean waves as they lapped back and forth. His face was one that carried years of contemplation, without ever reaching a satisfying answer.
He looked down at his right hand, or rather, the prosthetic that had replaced his hand. The metal showed only the slightest sign of rust in spite of having been exposed to the elements for so many years.
Oh, my, Master Luke, just look at your hand. We must fix this at once.
It was all too easy to imagine what the golden protocol droid would say were he to see Luke now. The thought of those he had left pained him like nothing he had ever felt. Threepio, Artoo, Han...
Leia.
He clenched his fists. Leia...
What did I do wrong?
She entrusted him with Ben, with her son, and he'd failed. His own sister's child, his nephew, lost because of his failure. Feelings of self-hatred stirred within him.
I wasn't strong enough.
Luke thought of the short time he'd spent with his masters, Obi-Wan and Yoda. Neither one had mentored him long before they died. What right, then, did he have to declare himself a master in the ways of Force? To take on students and act as their teacher?
He didn't.
He didn't dare think of what his father would say. In the time that he had known him, Luke came to understand what an evil presence existed within that suit. It wasn't until the very end that Anakin Skywalker had made a return to life. As he held him, held his own dying father the way he would have held Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, Luke vowed to become a force for good more powerful than Vader had ever been as a vessel for the Dark Side. The son took on the burden of the sins of the father and made it his personal quest to bring peace to all who had suffered under the Galactic Empire.
What a failure he had been.
He closed his eyes and calmed himself. These feelings would help no one now.
Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi, carried his sins and his father's sins and his nephew's sins, as he had been doing for so long, and waited for the day when he could right his wrongs, face the ones he had let down, and seek redemption.
A day that would never come.