Title: On the Death of a Son Author: Fettkat Time: Post- NJO Genre: AU vignette Characters: L/M/B Summary: Read it and see! It's too short for a summary. A/N: Sorry, still in my pessimistic vein. Next time I'll write something funny, promise!! ON THE DEATH OF A SON " He's dead..........NO!!!!!" were the first words that passed through the mind of Luke Skywalker as the body went limp in his arms. Utterly useless, but they were the words of a father, not a rational, thinking Jedi Master.His mind went numb at the impact of the words. The scenes of battle continued around him in a kind of surreal slow-motion, but the only thoughts which dominated his mind were those of death. He couldn't move. He could feel the blood dripping onto his fingers and thence onto his lap. He could feel the sudden vacancy in his heart, like a part of it had just disappeared. He could feel someone dragging him and the corpse he carried, away from the battlefield, into a form of shelter. But they did not register in his consciousness, did not illicit the kind of response they could have, even a few minutes ago. Someone had emptied an entire bottle of anaesthesia down his gullet. He was completely numb. Ben's short life had flashed before his-his- eyes, the moment he died. How could he judge whether his son would have considered it fruitful? He couldn't cry. He had no tears to shed on the boy who lay in his arms; unlike when it had been his father in the same position.He couldn't feel it yet, although he knew overwhelming Grief was consuming him inside like a tidal wave. What wouldn't he give for their positions to be reversed? Father and son. It wasn't supposed to be like this! Thoughts stopped. Sensations stopped. After a while he wondered what Mara would say. He knew what his son's father was feeling, he wondered at his mother. He could receive an inkling. Already, the " Mara-place" in his heart was burning in agony. Yes, her grief would probably go the way of all her other emotions; into inferno! Whereas his would consume him slowly, over a long period of time. The funeral was spectacular. Quite the hero's death. Could anything match the sense of "alone-ness" he felt? A terrifying sense of deja vu overtook him as he stepped up to touch the flicking tongue of flame to the pyre. It took him back decades, to the last time he'd done this, quietly,privately, in a secluded glade on Endor. He shivered. Where was the sorrow he should be feeling? Only cold questions traversed his brain. Would Anakin Skywalker be waiting to welcome his grandson? Would he ever be able to see him again, even through the Force? He looked around. He felt so alienated from the weeping, lamenting masses. Even from his sister, who had undergone this before. Then he saw his wife; saw a mother's misery writ large on Mara's face. Only her tears seemed real to him. She, atleast, had been able to cry for their lost child. Unbidden, they came to him at last. he felt, welcomed the grief which had finally attacked his soul. The tears blinded him as he staggered away from the pyre, towards the crowd. Mara did not respond, did not offer to assist him. Her eyes were still fixed on the bed of fire behind him. her mind did not grasp anything else yet. He remembered, then. The memory which had triggered the refreshing tears. The last smile on Ben's lips, the last uttered words: "I'm glad it's you, Dad. Here, at the end of all things..........." And he was gone.