The island under them has a large villa, clearly built originally by someone with money, and a lot of it. It had been furnished and touched up over the years it stood.

The landing pad, clearly meant for smaller personal craft than Vader's was cleared but the stone steroids leading from the beach to the entrance are covered in... much.

Candles, some bare, some in glass. Silk ribbons, many in shades of orange or red tied to stone, flowers and petals scattered about, grape leaves artfully laid out, pieces of bread left as offeringsto the birds.

The residual grief was only drowned out by the love and deep respect the mourners had left, but the emotional wave left Vader feeling like he was attempting to walk through hard-set gelatin. He couldn't actuality say whether he grasped Luke's shoulder as they walked out the shuttle for his son's support or his own.

But under everything, Padmé's touch lingered.

He could feel her here. He wants Luke to feel her.