He takes a moment before unstrapping himself and coming back. The landing had been fine, the least momentous thing that's happened in the past forty-eight hours.
But it might turn out to be the first step on something even more significant. Because this is the first act he's committed that does not have a destined end. Oh, whatever the Force has in mind, he'll learn. But this is not the end of anything. It's not the consequence of an avalanche that had begun when he'd brought Artoo into the workshop. It's something new, the thing that comes after.
And it's actually been years since Luke has thought about 'after' in anything but the dreamiest of terms.
Taking a deep breath, he steps to the back of the ship, taking in the apparatus keeping his father alive, thinking vaguely that this was not the way things were 'supposed' to have gone. He's fiercely grateful for that.
"You'll definitely not want to get caught in that," he says, eyeing her uniform. He doesn't know what it all means, or who she is, but he has no desire to pursue it right now. It's going to be enough of a challenge keeping Darth Vader alive--in more ways than one.
While she's searching for her clothes, he moves to his father's side. There is time, now, to take him in. To look at the fissures of scarring of what he can still see of the man's face. To be next to the sheer bulk of him, when he is not trying to run or fight or plead.
"Father," he says quietly, a lingering question in his voice. For as much as Anakin has done for him, there are still questions about what Luke is to him, exactly.
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But it might turn out to be the first step on something even more significant. Because this is the first act he's committed that does not have a destined end. Oh, whatever the Force has in mind, he'll learn. But this is not the end of anything. It's not the consequence of an avalanche that had begun when he'd brought Artoo into the workshop. It's something new, the thing that comes after.
And it's actually been years since Luke has thought about 'after' in anything but the dreamiest of terms.
Taking a deep breath, he steps to the back of the ship, taking in the apparatus keeping his father alive, thinking vaguely that this was not the way things were 'supposed' to have gone. He's fiercely grateful for that.
"You'll definitely not want to get caught in that," he says, eyeing her uniform. He doesn't know what it all means, or who she is, but he has no desire to pursue it right now. It's going to be enough of a challenge keeping Darth Vader alive--in more ways than one.
While she's searching for her clothes, he moves to his father's side. There is time, now, to take him in. To look at the fissures of scarring of what he can still see of the man's face. To be next to the sheer bulk of him, when he is not trying to run or fight or plead.
"Father," he says quietly, a lingering question in his voice. For as much as Anakin has done for him, there are still questions about what Luke is to him, exactly.