Vader himself hadn't wanted to die. It's not that he doesn't understand people die, he does, of course. And despite Misa's visions and worries, he was willing to die if he had to save Luke from the fate Palpatine had planned for him. He resented it heavily, the indignity of dying under Palpatine's hand but he had accepted it might be a reality. But it hadn't been THIER reality and he was...

happy? Relieved certainly and for all he was paranoid, he was relaxed in a way Misa wouldn't have ever known him to be. Luke's mirth caused a shift in his attention, that bright, almost blinding Light he remembered from being a boy. It drew him, his presence shifting like a sand dune, to shift and roll and envelop Luke, brushing his presence against him like a familiar tusk cat. Attention and affection but still prowling the area.

Comfortable. He was comfortable. It was strange.