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The man facing Luke, who’d introduced himself as Denethor, Steward of Gondor, was much older than he was and much more worn. The lines in his face, the tired droop of his shoulders, and his withered hands all proclaimed it. But his gray eyes were still keen and piercing. He was studying Luke with them now.
“Why do you still despair? You gave your life for your Resistance,” Denethor said to Luke, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“Only at the end,” said Luke. “I spent too many years hiding. I couldn’t face what I did.”
“I would have liked to hide,” said Denethor, “but I could not. The Enemy showed it to me again and again, until he twisted my thoughts onto the same dark path as his own. I battled him using the palantír many times. I thought I was winning, because he could not make me his thrall.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Instead, he drove me to despair and madness.”
“I must have been just as crazy that night,” said Luke. “When I stood over my nephew’s bed, I really thought I saw a monster sleeping there. I thought I could end the First Order before it began.”
“I thought I could use the Weapon of the Enemy against him. I commanded my sons to bring it to Gondor, and only my younger son could resist it.” Denethor shook his head. “Faramir was wiser than I was.”
“For a moment, I thought I could murder my nephew and not fall to the Dark Side,” Luke said. “I came to my senses a minute later, but by then…”
“…it was too late,” Denethor finished.
“We were both tempted,” Luke mused. “We spent so much time fighting, hardening our minds, making sure we wouldn’t fall…and when it happened, when we almost fell…it was so easy, so quick.”
“Despair,” Denethor said, “is the most powerful weapon the Enemy has.”
Luke swallowed and licked his dry lips. “I had visions of the Empire returning,” he said hoarsely. “I couldn’t stand to go through that war again.”
“I was too tired to stand against the Enemy any longer,” said Denethor.
“At least Kylo Ren is dead, and the First Order’s breaking up now,” Luke said.
“The world was saved, but not for me,” Denethor said, looking older and more tired than ever.
“Not for either of us,” Luke agreed sadly.