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Acknowledgements: first things first, thanks to Elyse for her infinite patience and beta-reading! And also thanks to enthusiastic SWFans whose writings gave me some good ideas for this story ;-)

Disclaimer: oh please! If I could ever profit from *this*...

A/N: ah, and all odd ideas of Obi's family background are mine (TM ;-) I like 'what if'-s, you know...

Tail of the Tale

(part one)

The pale blue blade drew a perfect arc in the air. Obi-Wan caught the weapon, deactivated it and hung it on his belt in one smooth reflexive move. Anakin grinned at him, wavered on the edge for a split-second and stepped back. And there was only a fiery chasm behind him.

"Anakin!!!"

Obi-Wan rushed forward, and the floor cracked under his feet...

*

He woke up and lay motionlessly in dim light. It took him a few seconds to recall who, where and why he was. He could still smell that foul smoke in the sterile air of the cabin, and his throat was sore as if he had actually cried out... Obi-Wan sighed and scrambled up. He was supposed to sleep, to rest, not to stalk the alleys of an old nightmare. The dream did not come back for a while and he let himself relax. Loosen the grip a bit. How foolish of him.

He pulled himself together - automatically, just like he parried lightsabre thrusts in the dream. Rest time was over.

Padmé was already waiting for him in the cockpit. A fair amount of make-up turned her into a middle-class, middle-aged woman everyone would pass by, but deep dark shades on her face were not a part of the disguise. Her eyes seemed as dusty as the great Tatooinean plains. Her hands clenched over the crib were so thin...

"You did not sleep," Obi-Wan whispered with a mild reproach.

"And you look like hell," she replied with a smile and straightened herself. "Our captain says the speeder is ready."

"Then let us go. We must cross the ridge before dawn."

They went down the ramp to a thing proudly called landspeeder. It was certainly older than the Queen; it could be older than the Jedi Knight. Beside the speeder they looked suspiciously clean, but it would change in a few minutes. Obi-Wan hoped they would be saved from some dust and heat inside the cabin. It was the only transport they had managed to purchase this quickly, and every minute spent in the city meant danger, danger, danger...

The ship's captain, their captain, saluted when they took off and could not see him, then he sealed the door.

"Here end friendly lands," murmured Padmé. She breathed in hot dry air and remembered how faithful Panaka resisted taking his Queen to this miserable planet. To this miserable planet where she had met her fate... Not now. She checked on the package carefully settled in the back seat. If they could know that time. If only.

Kenobi watched the road, or rather their course marked on the navigator's map: there were not many real roads on Tatooine. He watched the road, fighting an entire bouquet of feelings, irritation being the best of them. His home world. It sounded way better than it looked. He had never suffered from homesickness like some other Jedi students, he had never dreamed of discovering his home world, and when he landed on Tatooine for the very first time all he wanted was to get out. And yet he was doomed to come and come back. He smiled and pursed his already cracked lips. Welcome damn home.

The small speeder crossed the range of low rocky mountains when the first lights of dawn licked the sky. Their further course was laid through a ragged sandy plain. It dodged about, rounding canyons and precipices, almost doubling the straight way's length. They decided to lose some time but to win in security: no one would help them out of some crackle. They did not talk: the breath of the Desert dried their throats and the words themselves. The monotonous landscape blurred in the hot air, reminding them of a race in Mos Espa a long time ago...

Padmé concentrated on her precious package. Obi-Wan shot her a sidelong glance. No wonder most men grew overprotective around her, so young, so beautiful, so gentle... So fragile - that's what they thought of Padmé Naberrie. They were wrong. It was her will that led them here across the whole Galaxy, through Imperial control posts, through the chaos - and against their best friends' wishes. It was her strength that held them all from despair. It was her word against Organa's that settled the cause and saved his honor. Young Bail Organa was a man - a gentleman - too, after all... Obi-Wan shook his head. Must be some effect of the Desert, that crusty timelessness creeping slowly into your veins, making you feel as old as these dunes. Nothing else.

The dunes parted, and the battered vehicle slipped down into another valley - only there was a small moisture farm in this one. Obi-Wan hit the brakes. The speeder stopped in a thick cloud of dust, a few feet from the perimeter.

Welcome home.

*

They watched them coming, three silhouettes in the doorframe. Obi-Wan blinked, his step faltered. He had learned a lot about Tatooine and his family back in the Temple. He had won several battles over his own memory, over his right to know... He came prepared for everything this planet could throw at him. Everything but this. He stopped at the threshold and looked in her sea-green, sea-deep eyes.

She was small, not taller than Padmé, very slight, very old; she looked like the next breath of wind could blow her away. She smiled at him, raised her translucent hand and wiped some dust off his face.

"You are so tall, Ben."

Stene Kenobi Lars. His mother. A force stronger than the Force itself.

*

"Like hell we do!"

"I am not asking for myself," Obi-Wan said, a cold steely edge lining his words this time. He got used to the new attitude towards the Jedi. He could tolerate Bail Organa's insults. But he was not going to fight with his own brother, and Owen would not go for a battle of wits. His 'no' was as plain and hard as the sandy frying pan his house stood on.

They were alone in the room. Stene and Beru, Owen's wife, took Padmé to the inner yard and were now serving 'famous Epa ice tea'. Obi-Wan could only hope the women did not hear their... conversation. He saw Beru's eyes shine from within when the crib was opened. Only it would take more than his own and Beru's efforts combined to convince this stubborn brother of his...

"Who do you think you are, coming here like this?" hissed Owen. "Where have you been all these years, Kenobi? Or was it too small a place for a Jedi to bother? Where have you been when those Tusken bastards killed our father? When we had to live on Epa weed for months to keep this sodding farm? Ah, damn, and now you come trying to involve my family in some bloody affair of yours? It stinks, Jedi."

It cut deep, deeper than Owen could imagine, but Obi-Wan did not flinch from it. The Jedi revere the truth.

"I did not know any of those," he said quietly. "I have only learned about my family half a year ago." Owen snorted giving him his best 'I don't buy this crap' look. "And if I dare come here and ask something from you now, it's because I trust you with their lives."

Owen sneered, and then they heard it, a woman laughing. The sound, simple, clear and beautiful, rang in the air. It was not Padmé; Obi-Wan still remembered her laughter though he doubted he would ever hear it again. It was Beru. Owen's face fell.

"Gods, she hasn't laughed like that for ages..." She cannot bear a child, I know. "How dare you, you..." Owen turned away. "That baby of yours, is he... Has he got that Jedi thing in him?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Yes."

"No," his brother shook his head violently, "we can't do it." Not another one.

"I see."

"You and the lady, you may stay here for a night. The lands are dangerous in the dark."

"Thank you."

Force be blessed, he did not need to explain anything to Padmé. She read it all on his pale face.

"Shall we leave now?"

Beru bit her lip, Stene clasped her hands, and Owen glared at them all, his face being bright red with anger and just a little - with shame.

"No, we shall stay. For a night."

"Oh, that's right," said Stene with a strange gleam in her young eyes. "Come, dear, there's a nice little room for you..."

*

When night fell in the desert a few hours later, the Lars farm was very quiet. Beru and Owen slept in their, so cold tonight, bed. Padmé slept behind a makeshift screen in the nice little room. Even little Luke slept sweetly in his crib. Happy soul, he had no ruined hopes to spoil his dreams. Only Obi-Wan Kenobi sat in his comfortable chair, staring at a small night-light. He has told himself he was trying to find some other way out of this dead-end.

Afraid, afraid, come on, admit it, you are simply afraid to sleep here.

A way out would not show up. He spent hours meditating, days pondering on it before coming up with this brilliant idea. There was no plan B. He's been thinking of it tonight until his head threatened to blow, yet he hadn't found that other way. All his roads led here, to his family house. If only he hadn't screwed it up. If only...

"Why aren't you sleeping, son?"

"I can't."

He smiled despite of himself. Her mere presence seemed to light the room. Stene bent over the crib, admiring little sleeping beauty. Obi-Wan tried to erase that silly grin from his face - and failed.

"The boy has got it," he whispered. "He attracts women like a magnet."

His mother smiled back. "He's a very special boy."

Obi-Wan wondered what she saw in Luke. From a certain point of view they all were nothing but fragile sparks of living light in night eternal. Perhaps some sparks shone brighter...

"He will see better times."

If there will be better times, Obi-Wan thought. If there will be anything worth to see.

"He is meant for good, they just have to see."

"I am sorry. I should not have..."

His mother stepped back from the crib and shook her head, just like her younger son.

"Ben, look at me," she said solemnly and he obeyed, surprised. "I am only an old woman. I know only what I see, and that's very little. But from all I see, I am proud of you, son of mine."

His mother was proud of him. And he did not retort that there was nothing to be proud of. He did not recall all his faults and mistakes. Instead, for the first time in many days, he relaxed and had an absurdly good feeling about this venture. His universe had contracted to the size of soothingly cool palm on his forehead...

"Sleep now, stubborn one."

He was asleep before she left the room. He had no dreams that night.

~

TBC in Part Two...