#by contrast ezra seems to have LOST all of his snark

[kanansdume]

It's so sad that Hera and Sabine got distilled down to their entire personalities basically being "snarky." Like Filoni took the fact that Hera and Sabine had senses of humor that could, yes, make them snarky in Rebels, and revolved their ENTIRE personalities around that in the Ahsoka show.

Like in Rebels, Hera is snarky sometimes, sure, but she's also one of the warmest and most nurturing personalities on the show as well as someone who DOES believe in systems (good faith systems like the Rebellion, not like the Empire obviously) and in respecting that the leadership set in place has good reasons for their rules and orders. Hera is the person who gets upset if the OTHER characters choose to just do whatever they want rather than follow orders. So yeah, she's snarky, but that doesn't mean she's someone who just does whatever she wants. It means she's someone who has a sense of humor.

And Sabine in Rebels is snarky, yes, but she has an entire arc where she goes from being a literal bratty teenager who has some issues with authority and blind loyalty to being a merciful, patient, compassionate, mature adult who respects the necessity of making decisions based on the greater good. She does still like explosives, yes, but her snark and her appreciation for a good explosive does not make up the entirety of her personality. She acts like a bit more of a bratty teenager at the beginning because she IS a teenager in the beginning, but she grows OUT of that by the end of the show and over the course of MULTIPLE different arcs per season. The fact that she's snarky doesn't mean she doesn't respect good strategy and tactics OR that she'd abandon a ceremony honoring someone she loves that she's been asked to speak at OR that she's someone who would make the selfish choice that literally undoes someone else's sacrifice. It just means she happens to have a sense of humor.

Snark is not a personality nor is it something you can base a character's personality AROUND. And yet that seems to be exactly what Filoni has done on the Ahsoka show. They're snarky characters so that means that they disrespect authority, do whatever they want, and act based purely on emotion. How interesting. How unique.

[kianraidelcam]

Written for @earthboundjedi from the prompt: “We’ll see each other again. I promise,” featuring Space Mom and Space Dad, AKA Hera and Kanan!

Oh the sweet agony that is Kanera. Thank you for the wonderful prompt! The rest of the fic is below the cut for those who don’t want to go on AO3 for any reason.

“We’ll see each other again. I promise.”

It was ironic, Hera thought, his diction at the time. The pastel sunset of Atollon glimmered behind them, pulsing with Kanan’s words, as he drew her into his embrace. She fought against a rising desire to respond with some form of snark, her anxiety over his impending departure outweighing the need for levity, and simply leaned into his arms. Ignoring the sense of doom at his promise, Hera smiled and allowed the small wave of comfort to wash over her. The young Twi’lek woman responded with a thought, “I know.”

A promise was a promise, and she knew Kanan never broke his.

So, when her Jedi returned, leaning on their boy with the painfully white bandage around his eyes, it was more than the injury that shocked Hera. He promised, she thought to herself over and over again, night after night, as he drifted out of her orbit and away from their mismatched family. And then came the (rather expensive) medical droid loaned to them by Senator Organa when he heard what had occured on Malachor. No expense was spared, and only the best was sent from Alderaan. After all, Kanan was quite possibly the last rebel-sympathetic Force user after Ahsoka’s death, and Bail Organa was almost as determined to restore the Knight’s sight as the Ghost crew was. It was the most hopeful they had been all week.

Their hope, it seemed, was misplaced. 

Kanan was not a candidate for prosthetics nor would his vision return, was the droid’s final word. “That can’t be right, run the tests again,” she had nearly shouted in that small, bleached room aboard the Alderaanian frigate. She got up from her seat in a rare flash of anger and frustration, normally reserved for certain “servants” of the Empire (and a certain smuggler by the name of Lando), but a gentle hand on her arm stopped her in her mid-rise. “I promised, didn’t I?” His cocksure voice had returned, as did that Force forsaken grin of his, if only momentarily. For a moment, he seemed completely himself, with a hint of that fabled Jedi calm, and all felt right in the universe again. Kanan was her rock; he was always steadfast and always knew what to do, even when things seemed bleak. The least Hera could do was be strong for him. Hera took a breath to compose herself, and then smiled for more her own benefit than Kanan’s. “I know.”

Kanan grinned and then donned a more serious expression, turning his body to face the droid while listening intently to its directions for wound care. Hera drowned out the droid’s ramblings, and instead studied the injury itself. The burn itself was still in the early stages of healing and the angry red stood out in stark contrast to his tanned skin. His once vibrant turquoise eyes were pale with hardly a hint of color while the whites of his eyes seemed bloodshot from both the burn and exhaustion. Hera knew that the exhaustion was more mental than it was physical, and as the droid went on, she saw the frustration return. Oh, he hid it well enough, to the point where Hera doubted the rest of the crew would see it, but she saw right through Kanan.

Kanan Jarrus was afraid.

Time passed on the harsh world that housed Chopper Base, but he slowly came back to her. Small treasured moments at first, until he returned from outside the base, his sensor protecting him from the spiders gone. She had been worried, of course, but it instantly left when she saw how he walked. His gait lacked the hesitant steps it had been after his blinding, and when he smiled, it was with a confidence he previously lacked. His hand held slightly in front of him, as if feeling the environment around him, she was suddenly reminded of what he truly was. A Jedi Knight whose trust and power was in the Force. It was Specter One that held the crew together, and with his return to them, their family fell back in place. It was funny, he later told her before she fell asleep in his arms while he traced the patterns on her lekku from memory, how his blindness made it possible for him to truly see.

Of course, that meant he could return to missions again.

“I need you to come back,” she had said.

The moment he smiled, Hera had to stop from groaning. While it was good (more than good, it was fantastic) that he was back out in the galaxy (had been for some time, actually), she still worried deeply for him. It didn’t help that he was so kriffing arrogant. “Oh, having trouble overthrowing the Empire without me?”

Hera might not have groaned, but she did roll her eyes. Luckily, he couldn’t see it, though she was sure he could sense it in some way. “Our team is an important asset to the Rebellion?” Hera’s tone implied a question, which he of course refused to answer.

“An asset? Is that what we are?” Kanan’s own tone implied he wasn’t talking about the Ghost crew.

“You know what I mean.”

“You know how I feel.”

Hera doesn’t skip a beat, unsure this should be discussed at this exact moment. “Are we still talking about the mission?”

Kanan leans forward, his hands on his hips, “That depends…”

Unconsciously leaning forward to the hologram as well, Hera replies. “On what?”

“You know.”

Chopper’s response sounds suspiciously like an obscene suggestion rather than actual advice. Hera glances down at her droid’s hologram with a sigh, and then back at Kanan, her arms crossed nervously across her chest, “Be careful…. See you soon.”

As she shuts off the comlink, she feels a sweet, tender brush against her mind. There are no words exchanged, although there was no need for them here. This reassurance needed no words, no playful, snide comments. The meaning rang clear, in both their minds, from both the Jedi and his Force.

“I promised.”

It is only when they return to Lothal that Kanan seemed unsure of his promise. He had been up late the night before their return to the planet, meditating on some dream or nightmare he refused to tell her about. He dreamed in color, she knew as much, but what he saw eluded her. When she asked him about it, after waking him from his fitful sleep, he simply waved her off, saying something about a vision and the Force working in mysterious ways. Force be damned, after all of this, she was going to “force” some answers from him. She is tempted to do it in that dark alleyway, hiding from stormtroopers, until he lightens the mood with a soft quip. “Heh, I just realized. It’s been awhile since we've spent some time alone.”

Hera’s tone is almost resigned, “And when we do, it’s in situations like this.” Such is the plight of a rebel, she thinks. It was tragic almost, that their “moments” where few and far in between.

Kanan doesn’t instantly respond, which rings alarms in Hera’s mind. His face crestfallen, he admits with a sigh, “I wish..I could see you.”

Gently, emanating soft reassurances of her own, Hera reaches up to grab his dark visors, revealing watery, sorrowful eyes, maimed by a vengeful menace. Hera’s eyes are different. If Kanan could see them, he would be lost in their viridescent depths, as they conveyed the pride and admiration she felt for the Jedi less than half a foot away.

“You could always see me.”

It was true, Hera knew. From their meeting on Gorse to their current predicament, Kanan could always see her in a way no one else could. It was him who knew how to calm her in her angriest moments. It was him who knew how to quiet the nightmares. It was him who had always been able to read her every emotion. It was him, who knew her better than her own father did. It had always been him. Even now, it was still him who could see her. Both mentally, and physically. It was not the horrible, if beautiful, oranges, purples, and reds the exploding fuel produced that drew her horrified eyes, nor was it the golden cracks appearing in the metal beneath his feet that called her attention. She hardly even recognized she was a foot of the pod, reaching and straining against some invisible force at his command, and she barely noticed when she was thrown back into the ship, into Ezra’s shaking arms.

It was his turquoise eyes, shining against the dark scar across his face, full of determination and peace, that she saw.

They enveloped her, though they did not give her the peace that floated in their depths. The fire came closer to him, and yet, it seemed time had frozen over. She knew what the return of his eyesight meant, beyond the shadow of a doubt, even as they closed one final time while his hands pushed their ship out of the blast range.

“We’ll see each other again.”

‘I promise”

And Kanan never broke his promises