I had a plot bunny jump on me and here is what came out of it. Please
R&R :-)

Take care,
have a good day,
Devi

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Death of A Nephew

By Devi

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Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I'm not George Lucas (or Troy Denning, for that matter),
so I don't own any of the stuff this is based on. No money is made
out of this, no infringement intended. I'm just a fan writing for fun.

Also, everything up to this *@*@* sign is a verbatim quote from SbS
(p. 459), which I'm borrowing so that you get the idea at which point
of Denning's story I start. After the *@*@*, it's my own words,
except for a few borrowed dialogue lines.

Author's note: This is basically a re-written version of the part of
SbS that deals with Luke's and Mara's initial reaction to Anakin
Solo's death. I wasn't really satisfied with how Denning handled the
subject, so I decided to come up with my own (hopefully) improved
version. (That's the best part of writing fanfic - righting pro
authors wrongs. *hehe*)

Place in the timeline/background: Like I said, it's a re-written
version of a part of SbS. At the start, we're in chapter 44. Mara &
Luke have just heard from Han & Leia that their little son Ben has
just-so been saved from a kidnapping attempt by Viqi Shesh. Now
they're in the Eclipse war room, planning the upcoming battle against
the Vong.

The scene where Mara tells Luke to stop blaming himself for Anakin's
death because "you can't carry a load like that into battle" was set
at the beginning of the battle in the original, but I decided to
shift it to before the battle to allow for a more extensive - and
more emotionally charged - exchange between Luke and Mara.

The last part (Annie's funeral) takes place during "Dark Journey".

Much thanks to my beta Sienn :-)

______________________________________________________________________
____

[Luke] adjusted the holoprojector, annulling the displays of the
Borleias hyperspace routes and the Eclipse system - then, when his
connection to Anakin suddenly began to strengthen, failed to enlarge
the Coruscant map. He flashed on an image of Yuuzhan Vong charging
past a tangle of burning vines, of a purple blade ticking back and
forth, of a golden light burning in a dark place. Luke could feel
that his nephew was calm and focused, in harmony with the Force and
himself - but weak and growing weaker.

"Master Skywalker?" Corran asked. "What is it?"

Luke turned away and did not answer. He knew that Saba Sebatyne had
felt the Hara sisters die, and others were gone, too - he could not
feel *who*, only that there was a growing Jedi absence in the Force.
Now the strike team was losing Anakin, as well - and Luke had sent
him, had sent them *all*.

"Luke?" Mara was standing behind him, taking his hand.*@*@*

He barely noticed it. Through their bond, Mara could feel that all
her husband's attention was directed towards faraway Jacen and Jaina;
and she could sense the feelings he felt radiating from them: sorrow,
fear, horror, rage - and strength. They were alive, at least alive;
and holding on.

Then the bright light that was Anakin vanished.

Mara gasped in shock, as if someone had punched her in the stomach.
Then the next nanosecond, she felt a tidal wave of Luke's emotions
wash over her and mingle with her own to form a deluge of
indescribable grief that nearly drowned her. She felt how a part of
Luke's heart (which she knew as well as her own) was being ripped out
as if with sharp talons of durasteel to leave only a terrible void,
like one of the black holes of the Maw, in the place that had been
reserved for his beloved nephew.

Mara grabbed Luke's arm and jerked him around to face her, then
wrapped her arms around him to stop him from shaking, to stop herself
from shaking. It didn't help much. For a moment that felt like
centuries, the Skywalkers fiercely, desperately, held on to each
other, both trembling like leaves in the wind. No, not in the wind,
in a *storm*; like the ice-cold storm that was raging inside Luke's
heart, that Mara felt surging through her, stirring up the poisonous
dust of her own shock and anguish until it enveloped her like a dark
cloud.

She struggled, desperately trying to free herself from the grasp of
that cloud of grief before it would suffocate her; but this time,
there was no one to turn to; for Luke, who at other times was her
support, her strength, her healer, was now drowning in the waves of
the same grief.

But there was still *one* other being that could be her anchor to
sanity. Through the Force, Mara reached out to the one who for her
was the embodiment of joy and love, goodness and hope. Ben.

She found him crying his lungs out, drowned in the flood of his
parents' and Leia's grief without being able to comprehend with his
little infant's brain what was going on, but feeling the despair and
resulting fear all the same, or even more so.

Employing all the willpower she had within her strong heart, the ex-
Emperor's Hand forcibly jerked herself free from the dark maelstrom
of emotions that had swallowed her. //No! No matter how terrible this
is, I mustn't allow myself feelings that hurt my baby. //

She wound herself out of Luke's embrace and held him by his upper
arms, forcing him to face her. "Luke, no! We have to stop this!" It
was a struggle to get the words out, she was in no condition to form
coherent thoughts, what to speak of coherent *sentences*. But she had
to, and knowing she had to gave her the strength. "Please, Luke, we
need to calm down; or we will hurt Ben. Whatever we feel, he feels.
Do you really want to do this to him?"

For a moment, Luke just stared at her, as if being unable to
comprehend. Then he whispered, "Ben. Yes..." and allowed Mara to hold
him in a soothing embrace while drawing his Force presence inwards
until he lost connection to anyone but his wife. It was hard, very
hard for him to gain control over the raging storm inside; but he,
too, knew he had to. Force sensitive infants were very vulnerable
towards Dark Side influences; and what he felt right now, although it
was not the Dark Side of the Force itself, was a surge of emotions
that could easily lead towards it. Despair, and the anger that grew
from despair. No, he didn't want Ben to feel that.

Luke leaned against Mara, seeking comfort in her body heat and
familiar scent. He felt tears fall from his eyes to run into her hair
like crystal beads being strung on red-gold threads; and sensed her
feeling relieved that at least he could cry because it meant that the
worst part of his shock was over. He felt her stroking his back, felt
her wrapping him in the loving warmth of her Force presence to give
him strength; and he wondered from where she herself took the
strength to not only calm herself, but comfort him as well; for her
own grief was only being kept under control, not gone.

But Mara was strong. She had survived being ripped from her parents
as a little girl, being denied a childhood as she grew up under the
patronage of the most evil man in the galaxy. She had survived having
no one and nothing after the Emperor's death. She had survived the
disease that the Vong had given her. She had survived all of this
with her spirit intact. Her heart was strong as a rock, and she would
hold on. For Ben, for Luke.

"Master Skywalker? What is wrong?" Kenth Hamner asked, startled by
the sight of the two Jedi Masters' unexpected display of shock and
sorrow.

"It's Anakin...he...just died." Mara forced the words past her throat,
being aware that Luke was unable to speak.

She was answered by anguished groans and startled outcries. The
former Emperor's Hand tightened her hold on Luke, both physically and
in the Force, as if to protect him from the emotions she now felt
from everyone in the room: shock and disbelief, pain and outrage, and
bitter helplessness.

"Master Skywalker... what can we do?" Corran managed to ask.

//What indeed, // Luke wondered, his eyes seeking shelter in the
soothing green of Mara's as he struggled to get a clear thought, then
wandering across the room. Here they all were, looking to him for an
answer; and he himself felt so helpless, so much like not knowing
what to do, not knowing how to deal with a world where everyone he
loved could be ripped from him at any second. But he couldn't just
crawl into a corner and cry; not before this war was over. To give up
fighting would mean to dishonor his nephew's sacrifice. But what
could he do, what could he say?

Luke drew a trembling breath. "Anakin..." His voice failed him.
Clutching Mara's hand in a desperate grip as if to crush her bones,
he tried again. "Anakin died for a reason."

The others looked at him in silent expectation. //Don't you see he's
in no condition to tell you what you have to do? // Mara
thought. "What we need to do is prep our battle wings," she said in a
firm voice, taking charge. Turning to Kenth, she added, "And get in
touch with Admiral Sovv. We're going to need a place to berth when we
get to Coruscant." Mara continued like that, speaking to the others,
organizing, planning. She knew that right now, the more weight she
could take off Luke's shoulders, the better. It was the least she
could do for her husband.

**Later on, before the battle**

Luke was busy pre-flighting his X-Wing, but his heart was clearly not
in it. Anakin's death was a terrible blow to him; and it was made
even more terrible by the fact that he, his uncle, had allowed him to
go on that mission. He couldn't help thinking that he had made the
wrong decision; that he had *sent Anakin to his death*. He was so
preoccupied with those painful thoughts that he didn't notice Mara
approaching before she was right beside him.

"Luke? I need to talk to you. In private," she said.

Her husband nodded. It wasn't easy to find a private place amidst the
battle preparations, but all they needed was a little corner, which
they quickly found.

When they were alone, Luke regarded Mara silently, waiting for what
she would have to say. She returned his gaze. "Luke, stop torturing
yourself over this. That won't bring Anakin back."

A keen flame of anguish flared up in Luke's sky-blue eyes, making
Mara flinch. "I *know* it won't bring him back! But if I hadn't sent
him out on this... this damn suicide mission, he wouldn't be gone."
Feeling renewed tears well up in his eyes, afraid of losing his
composure if they kept talking about this, he added, "And that I'm
thinking about it is nobody's business but my own. Didn't you always
tell me to stay out of your mind?"

"No, it's my business, too!" Mara shot back with fierce determination
that made her eyes blaze like emerald flames. "You're my *husband*;
and I don't want to watch my husband tear himself apart over
something that's just not his fault! You didn't send anyone out; they
themselves insisted to go. So get your mind off off this. You can't
carry a load like that into battle. That would get you killed, and I
don't think Leia would appreciate losing her son and her brother on
the same day. What to speak of the fact that I don't want to lose my
husband; and therefore it *is* my business! I want you to stay alive
out there, and to help us strike a good blow against those Vong; and
for that, you'll have to have your mind on what you're doing."

"I know that!" Luke replied more sharply that he wanted to. He knew
that Mara had said what she had said because she cared about him, but
that didn't change the fact that he was upset.

//And *how* I know that! // He added in his anguished thoughts. He
had blown up the first Death Star right after the deaths of his
foster parents, and Ben, and Biggs. He had fought against the Ssi-
ruuk right after his father had died. For so many years, he'd been
leading a life where allowing himself to mourn was an unaffordable
luxury. But even Luke Skywalker could swallow his grief only so often
before it started to catch up with him.

The near kidnapping of his little son had left him more shaken than
he wanted to admit; and Anakin's death coming on top of that - it was
enough to send him to the edge of cracking up, and over it. "Mara, I
know all of that!" he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched with
anguish. "But how am I supposed to forget that my nephew's just
sacrificed his life for all of us?! Hell, what do you expect me to
do?! To shut off my feelings and do my duty like a good Emperor's
Hand?"

Mara stared at him in obvious shock, pale-faced and wide-eyed. Seeing
the extent of her husband's pain hurt; and so did his words.
The "Emperor's Hand" remark felt like being smacked in the face - it
was a thing that she would have never expected Luke to say. Her
gentle husband had always accepted her unconditionally, had never
held her Imperial past against her.

She was sure that even now, he didn't intend to hurt or insult her -
that he was lashing out at her like that was a symptom of the intense
distress he was in. And knowing that only made it more painful for
her - to see her beloved Luke suffer was far worse than to suffer
herself.

But the main reason why Luke's words hurt so much was that there was
so much truth to them. Her service to Palpatine *had* required the
ability to shut off her feelings. There had been no place for empathy
or compassion; nothing in her heart except for fervent loyalty to the
Emperor. The scars that her life as the Emperor's Hand had left on
her soul were still healing; and wouldn't have even begun to heal if
Luke hadn't come into her life.

Seeing his wife's reaction, Luke softly said, "Mar, I'm sorry."

"No need to be," Mara replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But
do you understand why I have to deal with this in my own way?"

Speaking no word, Luke reached out through their bond. Inside of
Mara, he found a stern courage; a fierce determination to go on, to
hold up, that was as firm as durasteel; a one-pointed concentration
on doing her part in the fight that the Jedi, that the New Republic
had to face. Reaching deeper, he understood why she needed to absorb
herself in that concentration.

He found a strong protective wall. She wouldn't let him in, and he
knew better than to push; but he caught a glimpse of what was behind
the wall, and that told him more than enough. Behind there, as if
enclosed into a hard capsule, was a swirling galaxy of raging grief,
and of vibroblade-sharp anxiety; all the anger, pain and fear of the
woman who had just lost someone who had been almost like a son to
her, and nearly lost her own son as well.

She didn't let him in; and he knew why. "I understand, Mara." He
wanted to pull her close to him; but she stiffened, and he
understandingly let go of her, `touching' her through their bond
instead with a touch that was feather-light, like one would touch
something very delicate, but warm and reassuring at the same time.

Two deep jade green wells gazed at him in return. "Luke, I wish I
could do something better to help you get through this," Mara
said. "I wish I could help Han and Leia. But I don't know how."

"You're helping me just by being there. We will fight *together*,
alright?" Luke stretched out a hand towards his wife, who put her own
hand in it, as if sealing a pact.

"Alright."

**Later, on Hapes**

They'd gathered up on a mountaintop under the pale light of Hapes's
twin moons. Anakin's body lay on a high, flat stone, surrounded by a
ring of torches, and a second ring that was being formed by those who
had been his family and friends.

One by one, they stepped forward to speak words of remembrance to
honor the fallen hero. Tahiri spoke first, followed by Tarc, Han,
Kyp, Tenel Ka.

Then Mara stepped into the firelight. "Anakin had the heart of a true
Jedi," she said. "He gave without asking for anything in return. I
remember how serious he was, how devoted. While I was ill, he was a
great support - and a great protector. Once, he took on three Yuuzhan
Vong warriors on his own to save my life."

Mara swallowed, then drew in a ragged breath. "Some of you know the
story how I sacrificed the `Jade's Fire'. I cried when I did it."
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "But *that* wasn't a
sacrifice." She had a hard time forcing the next words past the lump
in her throat. "What Anakin did...that was a sacrifice." The tears
spilled over and ran down her cheeks, reflecting the torchlight to
resemble rivulets of liquid fire.

As she returned to Luke's side, he wrapped an arm around her
shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze before he stepped into
the firelight. "Anakin was the best apprentice I could have wished
for," he said. "Though young, he had as much courage and strength of
heart as the Jedi Knights of old." The Jedi Master fell silent for a
moment, gazing at those assembled. His expression was stern, but calm.

Then Luke Skywalker's face softened with sad affection for the one he
was saying his last goodbye to. "Anakin saved the lives of those most
dear to me." Han and Mara gazed at Luke, knowing that he was
referring to them. "He died to save *all* of us, and now I won't have
a chance to repay him. I just hope that he knows..." The Rebel-hero-cum-
Jedi-Master broke off, pressing his hand to his mouth to stifle a
sob. A hot tear of sorrow fell from his right eye like a diamond born
from a sapphire ornament.

Mara was next to him in a heartbeat, rubbing his back to soothe him;
while Han was holding the hand of his wife, who was crying herself.

For a moment, no one dared to speak. The pain of the normally so
serene Jedi Master was a heartbreaking sight for everyone, as were
the sorrowful tears of Anakin's mother.

Then slowly, one by one, the others stepped forward to speak in honor
of Anakin Solo. When the last of them had fallen silent, Leia moved
into the ring of firelight and knelt at the side of her dead son. She
spoke in a low whisper - her words of goodbye were for her child
alone. Then she collapsed upon Anakin's lifeless body, weeping
desperately.

Luke rushed to her side. Lifting up his sister, he cradled her
against his chest, speaking softly to her. The others couldn't hear
his words, but whatever he was saying, it seemed to calm her. Then
Han gently took her by the arm and led her aside.

The torches burned low now, the moons were sinking. Luke took up one
of the torches and moved forward to Anakin's bier. As he lowered the
torch, Han closed his eyes, not wanting to see how the flames
enclosed what had once housed the soul that had shared his life as
his dear young son.

Luke and Leia exchanged glances, not needing words to know that they
both remembered how years ago, Luke had lit up a different funeral
pyre for the redeemed Jedi father that the Alderaanian princess had
named her son after. Now both Anakins were one with the Force; and
they... they had to go on. They would go on.

Han and Leia drew closer to where Luke was standing. Then Mara joined
them. Hesitatingly, with a shyness that was unusual for the bold
redhead, she took her sister-in-law's hand, wanting to console her,
but finding no words. The pain she saw in Leia's eyes sent a jolt
through her. Mara's heart constricted painfully, and she almost
wanted to run away as she realized how much the presence of her, a
woman whose son was alive, and healthy, and safe, had to remind the
Alderaanian woman of her loss.

But she forced herself to stay. Overcoming her own resistance, she
gazed deeply into sad and gentle brown orbs. Reading in the Force as
well as in the eyes, Mara now understood that Leia could see her true
heart, that she knew what the other didn't know how to say; and that,
like Luke, she didn't expect more of her then to just be there. With
no more hesitation, the two women joined in a sisterly hug.

Jaina came nearer. Tensed as a coiled spring with anger and inner
pain, she didn't want to be touched, nor to be too close to anyone;
but after some hesitation, she stepped beside her mother and her Jedi
Master. Looking at Leia, she silently asked her for understanding;
and her mother silently assured her. //You will come back to us in
time. //

Eyes of brown, and green, and blue wandered to touch on another; and
the Skywalkers and Solos didn't need words to know what they all were
feeling. None of them knew how long they would survive; but as long
as they were together, they would be a circle of family.

*****

The End