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Hera set the empty bowl aside and leaned back in her chair with a small sigh, watching the streaks of hyperspace stream across the cockpit of her ship. The lingering sweetness of the Jogan fruit she had just finished was still on her tongue. It was good but nothing could quite compare with a freshly harvested Meiloorun.
Hera knew she had much to be grateful for. Things were better now that she was with the Rebellion. Sure, there were days when supplies ran alarmingly low but somehow her and her crew- her family- always got by. Maybe it was just the memories of her childhood speaking but growing up during the Clone Wars felt harder and harsher in more ways than one. The Separatist occupation on Ryloth had made many things, including fresh fruit, very hard to come by. Despite that, Hera’s mother always somehow managed to get ahold of a Meiloorun just for her on one very special day each year. Hera never found out how her mother managed it but she did know how much she looked forward to that delicious treat each year on her-
“Happy birthday!”
A bowl of fresh-cut fruit was suddenly placed into her hands as Kanan slid into the co-pilot seat. Dumbfounded, Hera stared at the bowl then at the man sitting across from her while her mind scrambled to form a response.
“What...How did you know?”
Kanan grinned at the obvious surprise on her face. “Remember that time you sent Zeb and Ezra out on that fool’s errand? I wondered why you specifically asked for a Meiloorun- of all the things you could had them find on Lothal. Then I realized what day it was and put two and two together.”
Hera eyed him narrowly for moment longer, “Hmm.”
“Okay okay,” Kanan held up his hands defensively, “Maybe Chopper told me a thing...or two.”
Finally satisfied, Hera bit into a slice of Meiloorun and hummed happily with delight. Kanan leaned back in his seat with a smile. Hera could feel his eyes linger on her for a moment longer before he directed his gaze ahead toward the forward cockpit windows.
“So how do Jedi celebrate birthdays?”
Kanan let out a breath and sat up a little, “Well, birthdays weren’t really celebrated for the most part. When they were, it certainly was not in the usual way. We were encouraged to spend the day reflecting and meditating on the past. When a Padawan turned 13 years old though, it was tradition for Masters to give their apprentice a unique gift that they thought about for weeks, maybe months and sometimes traveled far distances to find.”
What did your Master give you? Hera wanted to ask but the all-too familiar, faraway look in Kanan’s eyes kept her from speaking aloud. She looked down at the bowl in her lap and the remaining slices of Meiloorun. It was the first time in a long time anyone had done something this nice for her. There was simply no time for heartfelt gestures when so much still needed to be accomplished for the Rebellion. Even now, between hyperspace jumps during a mission, was there any opportunity for a fleeting, precious moment like this.
Hera missed Ryloth, her home, her mother. She missed the way things had been and how they should be. But that was why she had left- to do her part to try and make things better. One day, there would be time for celebrations again. That was the future that Hera fought for with her family, which included the man sitting next to her now.
Kanan shook his head, as if clearing away lingering tendrils of the memory he had been re-living. He gave Hera a small, apologetic smile, seemingly back to his usual self and gestured towards the bowl in her lap. “I know it’s not much of a birthday gift but-”
“No, this...” Hera looked at him, feeling her heart swell with emotion. “This meant a lot to me. Thank you.” Kanan took her hand in his and closing the distance between them, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
The taste of Meiloorun was still on Hera’s tongue. It was good but nothing could quite compare with what she had now.