"Goodbye," he whispered softly, regretfully, as transparent blue images washed out into the sapphire evening. One faded more slowly than the others, almost as if reluctant to recede from the sight of the beloved onlooker. "If only we were given more time." The woodland leaves rustled gently in response.
Luke Skywalker's brow was heavy with sorrow and exhaustion; his expression was somber with the bittersweet memories so fresh upon the gathering dawn; his voice was weak and raspy from countless cries of anger and pain. Joy surrounded him in the form of dancing Endor natives and cheering pilots, embodied in the laughter of friends and the merry eyes of his sibling, manifest in the tangible freedom that beckoned the morning to burn with a radiance more glorious than ever before. The triumphant Rebel Alliance had garnished a victory more important than many of its members and allies even realized; not only had the second Death Star been destroyed-- still burning like a supernova of testament to the might of Good-- but the Emperor Palpatine had perished with it, as did his malevolent servant, Darth Vader.
Few people would ever know Vader as anything but the icon of intimidation and power that plagued the galaxy as the Empire's personal demon of force. Perhaps only Luke would ever know the beautiful soul that was for so long trapped within the monstrous encasing; perhaps only Luke would ever know how Darth Vader ceased to live and how Anakin Skywalker was reborn in his compassion for his son. For the present, Luke preferred to keep the precious knowledge to himself. He mentally cradled the memories of his father's last moments, finding both condolence and rehashed grief in their depths.
His eyes-- still so bright and alert despite his otherwise worn appearance-- met Leia's and he offered a smile. She did not return the gesture, though one delicate brow arched with an inevitably wry observance. "Perhaps you've forgotten that I'm a politician, Luke," she pondered. "I can detect a fake smile from a light-year away; I've seen my share of them."
He sighed, a defeated expulsion of air that seemed to deflate him completely. "I'm sorry," he breathed to the whispering grasses.
She was gentle, patient. "What are you sorry for, Luke?" Her fingers touched his chin and lifted until he was forced to meet imploring cinnamon eyes.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. He was not behaving like a Jedi Master, he realized offhandedly. "If only I could have known him more. I dreamt all my life of finding Father." His voice gained strength and passion. "Only moments after I looked upon him for the first time-- truly looked upon his face-- I lost him again."
Leia remained impassive. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but there was no shared grief behind the words of condolence. In her eyes, Vader was a monster, and only her father by a cruel trick of fate.
"You aren't," Luke replied, not an accusation but a mere statement of fact. "I don't expect you to be."
"I'm sorry for your pain," Leia elaborated. "Perhaps I cannot see what you saw in Vader, but my love for you outweighs any grievances I have, Brother." She tenderly intoned the last word and squeezed his shoulder. Luke smiled-- genuinely this time-- and took her hand in his own.
"We could have all been so happy together, Leia."
"We can still be happy now."
They embraced and Luke felt some of his pain melt away. He had lost his Father to the mysteries of death in flesh and life in the Force, but he had found his sister. Time would soothe the open wounds of his heart, as always it did, and life would deliver new challenges to face. With Leia and his friends at his side, Luke Skywalker was sure that there were none that he would fail to meet and overcome. In the back of their minds, all of the celebrating Rebels and allies knew that the galaxy was not yet at peace and that it never would be. They knew that the weakened remnants of the Empire would still wage war on the defenders of freedom and that trials yet unfathomed burdened the horizon. In the blossoming dawn, however, as sleepy flowers bloomed anew and birds added their melody to the naturalistic tunes of the Ewoks, the galaxy seemed to be a beautiful place with no room for anything but newfound hope. And as Luke caught a message in the leaves that whispered as he brushed past them with Leia to join the endless celebration, the Jedi Master was quite sure that hope was the father and child of the victories sustained in the battles for justice and peace.