@neversith: Anakin places a cake he made himself for Eron in front of him. It is not much, only made from what ingredients he could track down while he was off planet doing a recon mission for Leia. He also managed to get a gift for him. A new pair of boots. The ones he wore seemed run down and one would be more comfortable in a new pair. They weren’t that expensive too. The cake is lightly decorated, Anakin’s artistic skill shows through in how it is. “Happy birthday, kid. I made your favorite flavor. And I got you a gift.”
It wasn't the presence of Anakin Skywalker that pulled his attention away from his work datapad. He sensed it in the Force well enough to know it wasn't anything urgent. Rather, what made him pause was the decadent smell of chocolate—if he could even trust his nostrils—that wafted through the Intelligence command center until it reached closer to his tiny squeeze of what one would call a workspace.
And it was none other than his grandfather, holding a plate of a humbly-decorated cake with the same delicious aroma then placing it right in front of him that made Eron smile like he was a six-year-old boy again, waiting to blow out all the candles while everyone was gathered around him, singing in a chorus of gleeful voices.
He expected no more than a simple congratulatory message from those who'd remember (funny, as he did forget it was today), like any person in the Resistance would when fighting a war. Resources were scarce to have any kind of celebration. But of course his grandfather would go out of his way to conjure up something special for him. "Thanks, Grandpa," he said with a chuckle, only now noticing his grandfather's other hand was occupied by another item. "Aw, really? You didn't have to."
