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He had been with Ahsoka from the moment she entered the forest on Endor, a step behind as she made her way carefully through the dense trees. “You’re not usually so quiet when you visit,” she said, eventually.
His silence remained unbroken but Anakin had never been a subtle presence in the Force, a fact that had only grown truer now that he had joined with it. All around them it fairly reverberated with his unspoken ‘Why?’ There was an undercurrent to the sentiment, a lack of assurance she hadn’t felt from him in decades.
She supposed that was fair; just as she could sense his question, it was probably easy for him to sense her destination. “I don’t think ‘paying my respects’ is quite right,” she mused aloud.
Clearly catching a hint of her intent, “I didn’t think you were one for mementos.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up; at least he was finally talking. “I’m not usually,” she agreed, “but this is special.”
The small clearing was unmistakable once they’d reached it, somber and seemingly abandoned. The remains of the pyre hadn’t been cleared away, though had largely collapsed, only a few glimpses of dark armor rising above the ash; she knelt at the side of the site. “I was sorry I wasn’t there when I found out,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, “Yours is the only one I missed.”
“You’re counting the one during the Clone Wars for Obi-Wan?” In the past the question would have been tinged with bitterness, now there was only an odd sense of surprise.
Her mouth formed a wan smile despite herself, “It felt real enough at the time.”
Anakin said nothing, but the Force swelled with his agreement.
But that sense of agreement shifted back to his earlier wary curiosity as she reached her hand into the nearby ash, beginning to sift. “Cremation wasn’t unique to the Jedi,” she mused as her other hand joined the first, “In some cultures people keep a bit of the ashes with them after, as a remembrance.”
“That isn’t really how this,” Anakin swept a hand over his form, “works.” He nodded toward the remains of Darth Vader’s armor amongst the burnt-out wood, “There’s nothing of me in there.”
Snorting, “That’s some pretty limited thinking.” ‘And I didn’t say I was taking ashes.’
Quiet settled over them again as she continued with her careful sifting. A muffled sense of discomfort bled sluggishly into the Force despite Anakin’s best efforts; a few brief glances told her the reason. Though he stood at her side, his gaze kept edging away from the warped shell of the empty armor he’d worn for so long. He always brought himself back, though, made himself keep facing it; Ahsoka felt a small glimmer of pride for him glow to life in her chest, let it brush against him in the Force as support.
She was a little more than wrist-deep when she found what she’d been looking for. Working her hands under it she raised it out of the other debris, stained with soot but still whole—Anakin’s original prosthetic. “They really don’t make them like this anymore.”
His surprise was obvious, “That’s what you were looking for?” Anakin didn’t say that the piece wasn’t actually him, but he might as well have for how clearly the thought hung between them.
Ahsoka found herself smiling again with a shake of her head as she brought it close against her, carefully shifting her grip to cradle it as she sat back on her ankles; she had always had a different relationship with the prosthetic than he had. “You used this to treat my wounds,” she ran her fingers almost reverently over the palm, briefly slipped them between the slightly curled metal digits, “to comfort me when things got to be too much.” She turned to him as she laid it down on the ground, her smile turning mischievous. “To offer me other comforts, too.”
He let out a huff of breath that wasn’t truly there as he tucked his hands into his sleeves.
Returning to her task Ahsoka scooted back from the remains of the pyre, slipping her cloak from her shoulders and spreading it out on the ground before moving the arm to the center of it. “I know the others didn’t work as well,” she said, almost to herself, “The ones Sidious had made for Darth Vader. Their quality...” Similar to the old funeral rites of the Order she began to fold her cloak around the arm; she shook her head again. “But this piece, that was made for Anakin Skywalker, always worked perfectly, always endured whatever you put it through,” she continued, turning the fabric to assure a tighter wrapping, “This piece of Anakin Skywalker was always with you. Never broke, and never went away. I’ve been thinking about that a lot, since Rex told me about this place.” Her bundling complete, she tied the ends of the fabric before turning to offer him another small smile as she raised a brow. “And it seems like the sort of thing that my great grand Master would have pointed out.”
Anakin ducked his head and she could see his arms shifting within his sleeves, his left hand clasping his right forearm. “You’re probably right.”
She nodded, scooping up her bundle again before rolling to her feet. “And so I think it’s something worth holding on to.” Adjusting her grip so that she could gesture back the way they came, the wrapped arm rested comfortably against her chest and shoulder as they began the journey back to her ship. “I still remember how to take care of it,” she gave her prize a little pat, “so I’ll have it cleaned up in no time. It just needs a bit of extra love.”
He might have blushed, if spirits could do that. “What are you even going to do with it?” There was no judgement in the question, voice surprisingly light, just curiosity.
“Keep it with my other few mementos,” she teased gently, even as she thought about the sturdy box she’d secreted away for her holos. “Huyang will probably try to scold me when he sees it,” she pondered, amused, “But he usually comes around in light of my ‘unconventional lineage.’”
Their laughter drifted back to the ashes of the past as they left them behind.