Title: Guardian
Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated characters belong to George Lucas, not me.
Summary: He would not fail this child as he had his father.
Prologue
He watched over the boy from a distance.
It was part of the arrangement he'd made with Owen Lars. The man hadn't wanted any attention being brought to bear on young Luke, and Obi-Wan had to respect his decision. It wasn't as if he didn't also fear what would happen if the Emperor or Anakin discovered the boy before he was ready to take on his destiny.
To be honest with himself, and given the number of lies he currently was forced to live with for the sake of others, if he was not honest with himself Obi-Wan had to wonder if he'd even remember what truth was, he preferred to remain apart. The scars from Anakin's betrayal were still far too fresh to bear close contact with a boy whose resemblance to the man Obi-Wan had loved and trained grew stronger every day. The pain of his failure to be what Anakin had needed, of his blindness to the growing threat would not easily be erased. And to come to Luke with that pain and guilt still influencing his thoughts would be dangerous and hurtful to the boy.
It was better this way. He would be a half-familiar stranger to the boy, a shadowed image glimpsed rarely, his name known but rarely thought of. The boy would live freely, unaware of the crushing weight of expectation that had so oppressed his father. Obi-Wan would be there to watch over him, to protect him from all outside harm until the boy was strong enough to take up the role the Force had granted him.
He would protect this final charge if it cost him everything.
Age Nine
The surest indicator that Luke was Anakin's son, Obi-Wan thought to himself, was not his hair or his eyes, or even his constant need for movement. It was instead his inability to avoid trouble. And that included taking stupid dares from the other boys, like going out into the deserted area beyond Owen Lars' furthest moisture vaporators and staying there for part of the afternoon. What was a moderate risk for an adult with access to a speeder and a blaster rifle was suicidal for a smaller than average nine-year-old armed only with his wits.
It didn't help matters that the area Luke had been dared to visit was so clear and empty of cover. It was far harder for Obi-Wan to balance his promise to Owen to stay out of sight and away from Luke with his own personal vow to stay close enough to intervene and protect the boy when there was no place where he could accomplish both tasks at once. The only comfort he had laid in the fact that it would be just as hard for the Tusken Raiders to sneak up on either of them in such open territory. He'd have plenty of warning to get Luke safely out of the way.
They stayed there, Luke's stubborn form silhouetted against the sky and sand, Obi-Wan's concealed but no less present, until the first sun had almost set. The boy left then, eager to get home in time to tell his friends of his bravery before dinner. Obi-Wan waited until he was out of sight, on his way back into safety, before coming out of the shadows. This time, there had been no danger. This time, the boy would have been fine even if he had not been watching for him. This time.
But Luke was truly his father's son, and Obi-Wan had no doubt that the time would come when the boy would place himself in some dangerous situation and need rescue. The Skywalker line seemed destined to make him old before his time from worry. He would be there for Luke, as he had not been there for Anakin. That was his pledge.
Age Fifteen
He didn't know what was worse. The times when it seemed that Luke was deliberately trying to kill himself off in one of his crazy stunts, or the times like now, when Luke came out into the deserted areas to mourn his emotional wounds in private. He loved the boy as much as he had loved Anakin, and in much the same way. They were as close as he would ever come to having children, and it had hurt to see either one in pain. It hurt still more to have to remain distant from Luke, to watch him work through his upset on his own.
To anyone else, it might have seemed a trivial matter. From what Obi-Wan had pieced together from Luke's fluctuating emotional projections, one of the local girls had rejected him quite publicly in favor of an older boy who lived in town. A minor affair, to the average outside observer, scarcely worth commenting on, mere teenage unrest. To the young man in front of Obi-Wan's concerned gaze it was a humiliation, an unparalleled disaster. And to Obi-Wan it was a worrying reminder that despite all his efforts to protect and shield the boy, there were some things that were beyond his control. He was no more able to shelter Luke from his emotions than he had with Anakin. All he could do was wait and watch, hoping that Luke would, in the end, prove to be better at controlling his emotions than his father had been.
And under his gaze, Luke seemed to be answering his hopes. The emotions the boy was unconsciously projecting subsided, the turmoil emanating into the Force receding as he calmed himself. Daring to move closer, Obi-Wan heard the boy muttering, telling himself to calm down, that it wasn't worth getting angry about. For now, the crisis was ended. He had not needed to intervene today. Force willing, he would not have to intervene in the near future. Let the boy remain a boy for the time being. He was too young to be pushed into his destiny.
Age Twenty
Today. It would happen today.
Obi-Wan had rarely woken up with such a strong conviction since landing on Tatooine. The Force was certain, and unrelenting. Luke would begin to face his destiny today. And Obi-Wan would be beside him to start the journey.
Though he had eased his constant vigilance over Luke in the past few years, he knew that he would have to be watching for the boy today. Something was coming, something that would change the course of events on Tatooine, and the boy would be at the center of it. There was no other way.
His long, patient wait was ended. But his duty toward the boy had only increased. Soon, the real challenge would begin.