My eyes sting. I weep for my father, redeemed at the last. The dark armour of Darth Vader burns, and the remains of Anakin Skywalker's body burn with it.

I bow my head and close my eyes. I let my consciousness drift into the Force, and I feel them. My teachers and my father. I can sense their pride in me.

I am filled with a feeling of rightness. Of wholeness. Of completion.

My task is done, I realise.

The Force cries out in warning. I emerge from my trance to see that the flames have spread. The fire has crept from the pyre to the surrounding vegetation. I turn, slowly. I am encircled by the ravenous tongues of flame.

Jump, something says. Use the Force. Jump away.

But… no. My task is done.

I reach out for Leia; my new-found sister, though I have always known it. I love you, Leia, I tell her. Be happy.

I sense her answering love, then her confusion, followed rapidly by panic. Luke…? Her sending is faint, as if far away.

I send her another wave of love. Then I face my father's burning body.

With flames licking at my heels, I kneel beside him.

My task is done.

With the Sith gone, what need is there for a Jedi?

A/N: Very different from my usual stuff. Much darker.

I actually sat down to write a 'black humour' story about Anakin's Endor funeral pyre setting fire to everything... and this came out. Don't ask me why.

Please, let me know what you think.