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Empire Day was no longer celebrated across the galaxy. At least, not by that name.
An Empire didn’t become a Republic overnight and, in the beginning, long talks were had between Ahsoka and her inner circle of trusted senators about where the changes should start. During those discussions, it always seemed like what she thought of as the little things—what Anakin had derisively referred to as ‘branding’—that caused the most back-and-forth. Ultimately one of those discussions had led to Empire Day being changed to Alliance Day; had it been up to her alone she’d have done away with it entirely, but it helped bring a little light back to the dark day now that they were celebrating Sidious’ defeat rather than his victory.
After a few years she had—well. ‘Gotten used to it’ probably wasn’t the right thing to say. She didn’t think she’d ever feel completely comfortable with the grand speeches expected of her, or all the other pomp and circumstance, but at least now the anxiety about it all was less persistent.
One thing that hadn’t changed over the years, though, was Anakin’s habitual disappearance. It was rare for him to be absent from her on public occasions; Empire Day—Alliance Day—was the exception that proved the rule. Every year he managed to slip away without her noticing, returning to her hours later somber and quiet; on those nights she could always count on him holding her tightly when he came back.
This year, though, she had decided to put an end to the mystery.
As usual, she wasn’t sure exactly when he’d disappeared and she couldn’t try to follow as soon as she’d realized—she had duties to attend to. But once she’d finished with what was actually necessary she made her excuses and set off on her own. Anakin was never hard to find if he wasn’t actually hiding so—once she’d changed into some simpler, comfortable clothes—she reached her senses into the Force to feel for his Presence. Just as she’d expected, he was easy to pinpoint; sticking to the less-traveled hallways, she made her way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
The little clearing he had tucked himself away in was one that she remembered as being one of his favorites and, peering a little closer, she recognized the small altar he had set up there as well. During her time with the Rebellion her travels had taken her back to Tatooine several times and she had seen more than a few there—altars of remembrance. It was a simple practice without much adornment, in this case just three candles. One taper and one votive in Naboo-red, and another taper in lightsaber-blue.
Was he mourning ideas, or actual people? If it were the latter, only one seemed obvious to her. Ahsoka said nothing, merely watched his silent contemplation of the lit candles. She thought about turning back, leaving him his privacy, but as she did his Presence settled around her as easily as his arms always did—he had already sensed her.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she murmured, not wanting to disturb the stillness, “I just wanted to know where you’d gone.”
“I don’t mind.” He didn’t turn from the altar as he waved her forward, waited for her to settle at his side. “You knew them too.”
Actual people, then. “Who’s the blue one for?”
Anakin swallowed thickly. “Obi-Wan.”
A cold rush went down her spine; in all these years she had tried not to think about what may have happened to Obi-Wan. Who might’ve had a hand in that happening. Ahsoka, at this point, was well-used to keeping her voice calm even if her heart was racing, “Did you—?”
A stiff shake of his head, “No.” For a moment she thought that was all he would say. Then, “He was still on Utapau with his men when Order 66 went out.” His brows knit as his eyes pressed closed, chin dipping toward his chest. “Marking him, and you, as traitors,” he said eventually, quietly, “was the hardest part of that day.”
That was the hardest part? Even after years together, she couldn’t help the thought that rose in her mind at the statement. But she caught it before it could make its way to him. Questions like that were rarely helpful at the best of times, and that was not what this was. Instead she leaned into his side. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Just a few days after we left you.” He tilted his head back, released a breath toward the ceiling. “I saw him off when he left to find Grievous. He said—” Anakin’s eyes came open as he stopped himself, gaze falling to the burning blue candle again. Quietly, “It doesn’t matter what he said.”
He was wrong.
Ahsoka didn’t think he realized he’d let the thought slip, but the deep sadness it carried with it was unmistakable. Her hand sought his, laced their fingers. “Did you ever look for him?” she asked, “After?” She’d seen the wanted lists over the years—unlike hers, Obi-Wan’s name had never appeared there.
He shook his head. “I told you he was with his men, you know how thorough Cody was.” They sat in silence for a few moments, lulled by the flickering dance of the candle-flames. “And I thought…” Reluctance seeped into the Force, a faint embarrassment over the sentiment, “if he were still out there, I wouldn’t need to. That he would…”
Come back.
She supposed it made sense—even now, she didn’t think she’d ever seen two people with a closer bond. Or at least, given that bond, why Anakin would think that way; he had always struggled with people expressing devotion differently than he did. A sound escaped him that might have been a laugh. “Is it really so strange to think so?” He leaned forward to slide open the narrow drawer in the little altar, revealing a light green taper candle; it looked like it had barely been touched. “You did.”
An emotion she couldn’t quite parse curled warm in her chest at the sight of it, and she tightened her grip on him. “I guess so.” Ahsoka’s fingers hovered briefly over the candle before she nudged the drawer closed again. She didn’t need to ask him if he missed Obi-Wan; instead, “So this is what it’s been every year? Where you always go?”
He nodded, gaze fixing back on the movement of the small flames in front of them. “Never really felt up to the parades.”
Ahsoka wasn’t sure if the answer was an attempt at humor so she just squeezed his hand again, and leaned her head against his shoulder. She had gotten another piece to the puzzle Anakin had become, another small light for her to focus on in front of the altar.