A/N: This was originally posted over at TFN. Thanks to Jade_eyes over there for betaing!

We Walked This Way Before
Hapes, 45 ABY

Luke Skywalker stood leaning on the railing of the balcony attached to his room, watching the proceedings below through lidded eyes. Despite his late arrival, Prince Isolder had managed to arrange a fairly luxurious room for him—luxurious even for the Hapan palace. During the day, it would have a sweeping view of the oceans and the beach beyond the courtyard. Now, its only view of that of a burning pyre and a dying flame. He had actually managed to half-convince himself that he was outside due to the excess extravagance of the room, rather than being outside to actually observe the funeral.

Although he had caught no more than a few occasional glimpses of Tenel Ka while there, he suspected that she had had some hand in his receiving a room overlooking the funeral. It would be just like her to push away her own suffering and pain for the sake of keeping face for her people. Too, if had been the funeral of any Jedi but Jacen, he would have suspected his sister's intervention as well. Now, observing the state of her mourning below, he could no longer be too sure.

It was not a public funeral—there being few that would ever want to mourn the passing of Darth Caedus, especially considering the freshness of the wounds that he had caused. Instead, it was a private viewing—a change for Jacen's former friends and family to let go. Even among that select group, Luke could see that many had chosen not to attend. Even more were stuck in medwards across the galaxy—or already burnt on their own funeral pyres—casualties of Jacen's fall.

Those at the funeral were not, Luke understood, mourning for Darth Caedus. Neither were they mourning for Jacen Solo, who had already died many years before. Instead, they were finally taking the change to give expression to their grief, to let go of any anguish remaining. It was the first opportunity many of them had been given to express their pain and loss without the threat of imminent death looming over their heads—without the fear that emotion would lead to such a death. They were mourning their lost hopes—those hopes that told them Jacen would be redeemed—could be redeemed.

While a number of both Jedi and other acquaintances had stopped by earlier to have a last glance at Jacen's body, few had chosen to stay for the actual burning. He appreciated the restraint those who had once known Jacen had shown in refraining from making disparaging remarks in front of Leia and Han, but many of the other passersby and citizens had not been as polite, or as aware. Eventually, Luke had been forced to close the viewing to everyone who had not known Jacen in some way to keep his body from being ripped apart by the angry crowd.

Luke could feel the presences of Leia and Han, their actual figures obscured by the smoke, watching for the second time at that same place as the body of their dead son burned. Next to Leia, her outline just barely visible, stood the broken profile of Tenel Ka, weeping openly at the funeral of her husband. Between the two women, Luke could feel the sad Force-presence of Allana, and he felt his heart go out to her at what she would have to deal with. As a child, he had been protected from the pain that the knowledge of his father's identity would have brought him, but Allan would have no such release. She would have to live knowing the full extent of what her father had done and, considering the genes she had inherited, would live forever trying to atone for a collection of sins that were not her own.

Although there was a smattering of others surrounding the pyre, it was dark figures of Jaina, Jag, Kyp and Zekk, the four of them standing off to the side huddled in a small clump, that truly caught his attention. While he could make out that one of them had wrapped an arm around the smallest figure—Jaina—who was openly weeping in that person's side, he could catch no hint of who Jaina had turned to this time to help deal with her grief. The only reason he knew the identities of the figures at all was that they were the only ones who were able to fully shield themselves from him in the Force—between the three Jedi in the group, they had managed even to keep Jag invisible through those means.

It reminded him oddly of Anakin Skywalker's funeral many decades ago. The only ones truly mourning had been those surrounding the pyre, while the rest of the galaxy celebrated the toppling of the Sith. While Jacen's funeral still had significantly more attendees than that of Anakin Skywalker's had, the mood—mourning combined with a type of sad, cautious excitement—was still exactly the same. The main difference was that Jacen had left a daughter who was till coming to terms with what her father had done, and would be coming to terms with her father's actions for the rest of her life.

Glad to see they're mourning the man who killed me, an amused voice said.

"Mara," Luke gasped, straightening up at that familiar voice as a familiar Force presence once again invaded his senses.

Her blue figure was now standing next to him on the balcony, casually leaning on the iron railing, watching the proceedings below with an almost entertained air. As he spoke, she turned her gaze towards him.

Farmboy, she said, sounding very amused.

There was a long, tense pause. "We won," he said quietly, glancing back down at the huddled clump containing Jaina.

But Jaina didn't.

Luke shook his head in agreement and frustration. "None of us have even the faintest idea what happened in there," he railed. "All I know is that the four of them walked in ready to take him on, and they walked out half-dead with Jacen's body flung over their shoulders a few hours later. None of them have said a word about what happened in that room. Now none of them are acting even remotely like themselves—it's like they're completely different people."

I know, she said quietly. I can see.

He looked at her sharply. Tell me what happened in that room. His attempt at using a commanding voice failed miserably.

I can't. Her voice was said, pained. It's not my story to tell.

"Why not?"

Because Jaina will need someone she can tell it to later, someone who hasn't already heard it, and someone who doesn't already have preformed misconceptions of what happened in that room.

"It changed her," he said flatly.

That it did.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, both of them watching the curls of smoke rise and dissipate into the dark night that was starting to give way to morning. Most of the funeral attendees had long since left, and the only ones that remained were the four that had entered that fateful room with Jacen. Even Tenel Ka and Allana were gone, although it had not been without a great amount of coaxing on Leia's part.

Mara turned back to him abruptly. Why are you down there Luke? she said sharply, with an edge to her voice.

"I just can't be," he said quietly. "I can't forgive him yet for what he did to everyone—to you."

Her gaze was still as sharp and piercing as it had ever been. It is him who you can't forgive, or yourself?

"Both," he admitted. "Neither."

Well? she demanded impatiently. Keep going.

"It's easier to forgive people when I can take all the blame on my own shoulders," he admitted. "It's not that I can't forgive him—he's hardly the first to take that path, and I've been there myself. There's a big group of people out there who've been forgiven for that same choice; the only difference is that it took us longer to realize that he was headed in that direction, and it took us longer to end it all."

She merely raised an eyebrow. Make up your mind, Skywalker. Most people would call that taking the blame onto themselves.

"But the difference is that I can't really say that we went wrong anywhere in teaching him—he got almost exactly the same training from us that Jaina did, but look at the difference. And even Kyp's told me that he won't support me if I try to forgive Jacen for what he's done, and we all know that Kyp is about as lenient as you can get in terms of forgiveness."

Kyp isn't trying to get Jacen forgiven? She didn't sound particularly surprised.

"He's not," Luke confirmed. "And I thought that you'd know about all of this since you're dead," he added as an afterthought.

She snorted. Being dead doesn't make you omniscient. Just because I can watch over all of this, doesn't mean I actually do. And stop trying to get me to tell you what happened. I'm not going to fall for it.

Luke laughed softly. "You never did."

She snorted again. That's right, and you know it. Now stop avoiding the topic.

"What, being dead and omniscient?" Luke attempted to feign innocence.

She merely glared at him. Cut it out Farmboy. I know you better than that.

He sighed. "The biggest problem is that I still can't forgive him for misleading me, for trying to get me to take that path. And, even more, I can't forgive myself for choosing it."

Luke, Jacen managed to fool us all. You can't put all that blame on yourself.

"He didn't fool Jag."

He felt comprehension dawn over Mara. You're talking about Jag's letter, she said.

Luke nodded in agreement. "I'll never understand how he does it, but he does."

What? You mean how Jag, even though he's completely Force-blind, actually manages to figure out something productive while all us Force-sensitives and Jedi masters sit here scratching out heads and yelling profanities at each other? It's called logic, Luke. We're all so dependent on the Force that we forget about it sometimes.

Her humor didn't affect him. "What if I'd listened to him, Mara?" Luke asked. "What if I'd actually sat down and thought about what he said, instead of thinking that he was bitter, angry, and just trying to do us all in? What if I'd actually listened before it became too late?"

She didn't answer, but merely let him continue.

"We could have saved Jacen," he said, feeling sad, angry, and pained. "We could have saved thousands of lives."

And you could have saved Jag as well, you mean.

Luke shot her a sharp glance. He's not dead, Mara.

And that should mean something to you, she shot back immediately. Still, you're not talking about him being alive. You're talking about the living nightmare his life's turned into.

Luke sighed in acknowledgement of her point. "He didn't deserve any of this," Luke said, running a tired hand through his graying hair. "He could have sat out this war and ignored us. Or, at the least, he could have just been any one of million of soldiers and pilots fighting for their lives. Instead, he chose to help us—choose to put himself at the forefront of Jacen's attention—and, when we ignored him, he came out even further to help us more because he saw that we need it."

She snorted in irritation. Still the naïve farmboy, Luke? Do you honestly think that he could have just kept out of this war? Sooner or later, Jacen would have come and dragged him into it. If he wouldn't have became one of the big players in this war because he's an extremely strong opponent, he would have become a big part of all of this because Jaina cares about him.

He sighed. "But we could have done something even before that. If I'd only done something to keep the Joiners under control, then he wouldn't have lost all his ties to his family."

She snorted yet again. Stop acting like an idiot, Luke. You need to actually learn something from those politicians and assign the blame to someone else for a change. Go and live your life. There's plenty of young ones to take care of things.

Luke raised an eyebrow towards her at that last statement, but she merely shrugged.

Tell Jaina I'm proud of her.

"She won't listen," Luke said. He tried to keep the hurt he felt at Jaina's refusal to turn to anyone outside her four for anything, but figured that Mara had probably seen through his façade anyways.

She won't listen now, but she will later.

He couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped his throat at that statement. "Don't underestimate Jaina's stubbornness, Mara."

Trust me, Farmboy. She'll need all the help she can get. After all, she got a good part of her stubbornness from me.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you know that I don't?"

She smirked. Everything that you want to know—what happened in that room. You already know that being dead does come with some advantages. Promise me you'll tell her.

He sighed. "I'll tell her, but she won't listen," he said in resignation, knowing full well that Mara was not going to stop until he gave in.

Then keep telling her until she does. She deserves at least that much.?

"If you say so. I've learned a long time ago not to argue with you."

Hurry up and die, Skywalker, she said, laughing. I miss you.

He chuckled. "I miss you too Mara, but haven't we already done this?"

What? she snorted. My wanting you dead and your wanting me alive?

"Both," he said chuckling slightly. "Is this going to be your last visit?"

My last visible one, yes. I don't have the energy left to do this again, although I may hang around a bit longer to smack some sense into you when you try your next idiotic stunt.

Although her gaze shifted back once again to the funeral, he let his linger, drinking in the last moments he would ever see his wife again. As the sun gradually emerged over the horizon, bathing the gloomy scene in a background of pallid yellow light, Mara's blue outline seemed to fade into that brilliance. By the time the sun was at it's peak, it was barely visible; then, after shimmering into existence for another brief moment, it dissipated entirely.

See you, Farmboy.