She learned of the Rebellion’s attack on Endor several hours after it had began. The HoloNet was silent, of course, Palpatine had total control over television, journalism and all kinds of other online social interactions. So nobody could know of this — nobody could know of the Rebellion, not to mention it’s attack on the new impregnable planet-destroying weapon called the Death Star.
But Ahsoka wasn’t a regular citizen. Her own sources told her of the attack, and kept giving her news of it until it’s very end; well, by that time she was already there, so the description of how amazingly colourful the Death Star’s explosion was was quite useless. It still made her happy though — hearing the excited, relieved, tired voices cheering, laughing, crying and celebrating Freedom.
She couldn’t feel the darkness in the Force anymore, and that relieved her even more. Now there was just emptiness. The Balance the Jedi used to talk off, no darkness and no light.
The Ewok village was a lit up labyrinth, shining in the darkness of the night, full of music and laughter that could be heard from miles and miles away. It looked marvellous from the illuminator of her starfighter, but it was even better from the inside. Tiny fluffy aborigines stumbled over her feet, some even hugged her knees, people smiled at her, congratulated her, laughed with her, and for the first time in years Ahsoka didn’t feel like an outcast. She knew that the feeling wasn’t completely true, she still was a relic of the past, a Jedi, a fighter of the Republican army, Darth Vader’s former friend and apprentice. But she was simultaneously more than just that — she was one of the winners, a rebel, a fighter, a sister to all those who came here tonight. She was more than just a runaway now, since there was no one to run away from.
Her white cloak flapped in the wind, and the soft cool breeze calmed her hot skin. Despite feeling like a part of this whole celebration, she still tried to stay as unnoticed as she could. After entering the village she found a quiet, empty, dark bridge to stand on and watch the party from a distance. She will see her friends again. She will see Ezra and Sabine, Hera, Zeb, Rex, all the captains and admirals of the Rebellion’s fleet, even Chopper and R2. But not today.
So she just stood there, looking the main tent, in the darkness, enjoying this hopeful, easy, warm and safe atmosphere, looking for any familiar faces in the crowd. She found Leia Organa’s face quick enough. A young handsome dark-haired man next to her must have been Han Solo. Chewie was near as well. She had never talked to any of them, except for Leia, for a few minutes, not more, but they had a reputation in the Alliance, so not recognising them would have been impossible.
Ahsoka felt the smile on her lips, it creeped on and settled on her face as she enjoyed the view. Her thoughts wandered from one memory to another, and she saw thousands of other places, faces and worlds as well as the Endor one now. She heard sirens and screams and silence, Darth Vader’s breath and Obi-Wan’s soft voice, Ventress and Sabine Wren. And right next to relief on her chest there sat pain and grief, unusually warm. Vader was dead. She didn’t get the chance to bring him back.
But she wasn’t going to dwell on these kinds of thoughts tonight. Tonight was a time for happiness and contempt, not regret. She did her duty. She hadn’t fought for nothing. And — most importantly — they all, — not only her friends, not only the Rebellion, but the entire galaxy — had a bright future waiting for them, a tomorrow that wasn’t going to be marked by the black and white colours of the Empire.
The sound of heavy stumps pulled her out of her thoughts. Ahsoka turned around, but for a moment the torch in the man’s hand blinded her. When her eyes got used to the light, it was her lungs’ turn to fail. The reason wasn’t surprise — simply a storm of emotion. It reflected in Rex’s brown eyes.
They stood there for a while, surrounded by music and screams and all kinds of other noises, but in their own blessed silence. Covered by night’s darkness, concealed from the rest of the world, but not from each other. Staring in each other’s eyes in search for words that could really express what they were feeling. Understanding that, perhaps, they needed no words at all.
At last, Rex’s hoarse voice cut through the quiet soft air.
“Ahsoka…” was all he managed to say before they both started running. In less than three short breaths Ahsoka found herself squeezed by Rex’s strong arms, covered in quite sharp metal.
“I…I thought you were dead!” He cried out, letting her go.
“I was…I think,” she chuckled. And there she thought the night couldn’t get any better. But the feeling this meeting inspired in her was far more than just “good”. It was a mix of sorrow and happiness, of nostalgia and hope, of loneliness and despair, of pride and relief, of brotherly love and of grief.
“But Ezra brought me back. Somehow, using the Force, he managed to do that.”
“I don’t think you understand how happy I am to see you here! To just see you,” his eyes twinkled in the dark — the torch had been thrown away into the green chaos under the bridge the moment Rex started running.
“I think I do. I am too. I…I missed you so much, Rex.”
“Me too, commander. Ahsoka…we finally made it!”
“Yes…” she whispered. “The war is over…at last.”
They both knew, which war. For there was only one, they both began fighting it tens of years ago on Christophsis to win it here, on Endor, together.
“Have you seen him already?” Rex asked after a long silence, leaning on the railings next to Ahsoka.
“You don’t know? The General’s son.”
Ahsoka turned to him in confusion. The Rebellion had many generals, and they had many sons.
“You don’t know,” now it wasn’t a question. Ahsoka could hear notes of sadness in Rex’s voice.
“General Skywalker had a son.”
It felt like a strike in the chest. Like a blow of ice-cold wind in the face. Like an abrupt end of a fall years long.
A son. Anakin had a son. But….
And then it struck her again.
Anakin and Padme. She should have realised it earlier.
They had a son. A child. He was here.
An avalanche of emotions overtook her, even though she did not show it. Happiness. Excitement, the kind that she only used to feel as a fourteen year old padawan. Sadness and regret. Hope. Pride. Curiosity.
“Who is he, Rex? Have you spoken with him? I need to talk to him too. Oh, I’m such a fool, I should have figured it out back then!”
“I know you did,” she laughed with him. “Did you know about them?”
“Yes. The General told me…after you left. But I didn’t know anything of their son until today.”
“We all were,” he sighed. And she knew that in that sigh there was more regret than just for this late realisation.
“I need to talk to him,” she repeated.
“He does too, believe me. He saved us all. And…well, he’ll tell you everything himself.”
An image popped up in her head. He had the same reputation as Han Solo and Leia Organa. The hero of the Rebellion, a good looking young man with fair hair and blue eyes. Resembling his father, and yet Ahsoka still hadn’t noticed it before. ‘Skywalker is a common name’ she told herself. The truth was that any reminder of Anakin was almost too painful to bear.
“Where is he?” She asked, her voice a little quieter than before.
“In the main tent, I suppose. With the rest of them. Go. We can always catch up later. Now, when there is no Palpatine to ruin our plans.”
She smiled softly, but sadly. Then nodded, and left.
The smile stayed on her lips, but now it wasn’t just one of enjoyment. It hid secrets and nostalgia, and happiness, and sorrow. Anakin’s ghost felt as close as ever right now.
The main tent was noisy and smoky. The Ewoks offered some strange animals, roasted on bonfires (nobody seemed to care that the entire village was made of wood and based on trees). Despite her height and white cloak, Ahsoka’s entrance was left unnoticed — most of the rebels were already drunk and too busy partying to pay attention to anything or anybody else. The only ones who didn’t seem to drink were the heroes: Han, Leia, Chewie and some of their other companions.
Ahsoka’s eyes slid from one delighted face to another, and their smiles were all similar. She noticed Hera, she was speaking to some other pilot; a small firework exploded in Ahsoka’s chest — a celebration of Hera’s survival. But she could talk to Hera later, now all that mattered was Luke. Who didn’t seem to be here.
In five more minutes of futile search, Ahsoka had already began thinking of going to look somewhere else. As she was about to turn around and leave the tent, something inside of her changed. She felt a presence in the Force. Of course, every living being had one, and she felt everybody, but this one was stronger and more vivid. Jedi-like.
She looked around once again, and that was when she saw him. He had just entered the tent, wearing a black suit, looking as happy as everyone, but also tired and…and…there was something else. Grief? Pain? Longing?
But examining him became impossible fast enough. He had felt her presence too, without doubt. Luke was also looking around, searching for her, and Ahsoka decided that there was no need to hide or leave now. Instead, she crossed the tent and came straight up to him.
Luke’s eyes widened as he saw her. The owner of the presence. They exchanged glances, and left the tent together, without speaking a word. Only when the crowd beneath it was left behind, did Ahsoka begin.
“You are Luke Skywalker.”
He nodded. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ahsoka. I…I used to know your father.”
His eyes that were examining the wooden floor, shot up and were now staring at her attentively. Eagerly, even.
“You did? Wait, you are…Ahsoka Tano? Fulcrum?”
“I used to be one of them, yes,” she half-smiled. “Before I…”
“Died? How is this possible?”
“It’s a long story. I will tell it a bit later, if you don’t mind.”
“You said you knew my father…”
“I did,” Ahsoka admitted, leaning on the railing, looking at the bridge where she had talked to Rex ten minutes ago. How many unexpected meetings in one evening!
“I used to be his padawan during the Clone Wars.”
This news seemed to have startled Luke.
‘He must have thought I knew Vader’ Ahsoka figured.
He leaned onto the railing next to her.
“Not exactly. I left the Order at the age of sixteen.”
“That is also a very long story. In short, I was suspected of terrorism, an explosion in the Temple hangar. They excluded me, and then offered to come back, but…I chose a different way.”
“That’s…sad. Did my father…did Anakin also suspect you?”
Ahsoka smiled. “No. He was the only one who believed in me. Him and you mother.”
Luke raised his head, and his face reflected her smile.
“He was…reckless. Brave. Honest. Sometimes impulsive. But kind. He would go to the ends of the universe for his friends. He was a great mentor and an even better friend.
Padme…she was different. Very smart and very wise. She became queen at fourteen. She was as brave as him though, but maybe not as reckless. And she had a big heart. They were both wonderful people, and I think I should have figured out that they were married way before Rex told me.”
“Oh yes. Anakin loved Padme more than everything. More than himself, even. More than Obi-Wan or me. But I can’t blame him for that.”
“I miss them. Even though I never knew them. Do you know what happened to her? Or to father? What really happened?”
“I only know what you know. She died in childbirth, and Anakin…well. I am so sorry you never got to see them…”
“I got to see him though.”
Ahsoka turned her head, perhaps a little too fast. Luke looked at her, his eyes’ true colour hidden by the dark.
“Anakin. He came back. On the Death Star…it was him who killed the Emperor. He saved me, but…he sacrificed himself for it.”
Everything suddenly stopped existing. There was no fires, no songs, no darkness, no ewoks, no stars in the sky. Nothing but the realisation that he came back. Ahsoka was so used to the fact that her former master became a monster, so accustomed to the feeling of pain and regret, and guilt for not being able to save him or help him, that Luke’s words made her choke on her breath.
It took her quite a long time to realise that there was water on her cheeks and eyelashes. That she was crying…but it didn’t matter. Her knees hit the floor, and the only thing she could say was “he came back.”
Over and over and over again.
And those weren’t tears of neither sadness, nor joy. Those were tears of relief and thankfulness. It was as if a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders and thrown into the darkness behind the railings.
Anakin came back. For a short time, maybe, but he did. And it was all that mattered.
Yes, she failed, but his son succeeded, and that was more important.
The ruin of the Empire meant less than this, to be honest. Ahsoka couldn’t quite believe it, but she was sure that Luke told her the truth. A giant black scab got torn off her heart to become dust. With every breath and sob she took, it got out of her body. With every passing second she felt lighter and lighter, until it was as if she had lost a billion pounds.
Luke’s warm hands wrapped around her shoulders. He sat down by her side, hugging her.
She hadn’t felt this free and safe for centuries.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
I took my inspiration from these two arts:
2 (but only the first slide cause I haven’t seen the rest and they are pretty sad) 
