Chapter Twenty-Three: W
W is for Wonders
When Elanor hears voices growing louder and senses two people approaching, she wonders what is going on.
One of the people is Obi-Wan. He is calm, but does not react to her questioning probe along the bond, and most strangely of all is returning midday. Normally, he's out by morning and returns home only by evening, unless he's going shopping. But today is not one of those days.
She lingers over that for a mere second though. She enjoys the rare days he stays home with her, and she doesn't complain. It is selfish of her, perhaps, but her love for him overpowers such reproachful thoughts most of the time.
The other person confuses her even more. He is young, she senses, and seems familiar. . . But she has never felt that presence or sensed that mind before and so she doesn't understand why he seems familiar. . .
Opening her eyes, she rises to her feet in one fluid moment. Over eighteen years have passed since she first met Obi-Wan, and she has attained many of the markers of a true Jedi Knight as the years have gone by – along with further breaking in pieces one of the most important Jedi rules concerning attachment as she fell deeper and deeper in love with Obi-Wan.
But she doesn't regret it. Not for a minute, or even a second.
Obi-Wan is her lover, her soulmate, her other half. She wouldn't trade anything in the universe for him, and there is nothing in the universe she wouldn't do to save him, to spare him from injury, to protect him from pain.
She knows that he feels similarly for her, and his protective instinct is even stronger than hers. He has become more relaxed as time has passed, but he will never fully stop feeling anxiety about her.
She still doesn't mind though. It is a small price to pay to feel his love and be able to return it.
When the door opens, she waits for a moment, reaching out with the Force to question him yet again, not sure if he wants her to reveal herself or not. He merely sends back a calm reassurance and encouragement, so she sighs and slips through the door silently.
The young man Obi-Wan brought back jumps at the sight of her. He can't be more than twenty, and he has sandy blonde hair and pale blue eyes. . .
With a shock, she realizes that he looks almost exactly like Anakin Skywalker.
And then Obi-Wan is beside her, his arm slipping around her waist. She instinctively tilts her head to lean against his shoulder, but does not speak, waiting for him to open the introductions.
He tells her the young man's name then: Luke Skywalker.
She blinks. So this is the child Obi-Wan watched over for all of these years; this is the one he has worried over; this is the one Master Yoda handed to him as his duty. This is Luke Skywalker.
This is . . . Anakin's son.
She senses Obi-Wan's gentle smile when the realization clicks, and then he introduces her to Luke.
Luke merely gives her a curious expression before returning his attention to the protocol droid at his side, which is sadly mangled. But she can sense his burning curiosity under the surface; obviously, Obi-Wan has succeeded in making many of the locals think him a bizarre – and very much solitary – hermit.
Obi-Wan chuckles softly in her ear when he senses her thoughts, reminding her under his breath that in many ways he is a bizarre hermit.
She rolls her eyes at him and flits back to the kitchen. Luke's curiosity is tempered only by one thing – and that's hunger. She remembers how hungry her fellow male crèche mates where they were growing up, and she knows that Luke is probably just as bad.
Besides, it gives her an excuse to get out of the place and wrap her mind around the realization that Luke is Anakin's son.
Obi-Wan merely frowns before returning his attention to Luke.
Once alone, she leans against the wall. Out of all the Jedi, she never expected Anakin Skywalker to break the Jedi Code so . . . so . . . Well, no Jedi has ever gone that far and still remained a Jedi.
Of course, Anakin Skywalker is no longer a Jedi – not even quite human, actually – but Luke must have been conceived before Order 66, when he still was.
She sighs, and turns her mind over that fact. Actually, it is not as hard as she thought to accept the fact that Anakin fell in love, married, and had a kid. He always was impulsive and compassionate, sometimes even more so than Obi-Wan. Once he let something in his heart and mind, he never let it go.
Obi-Wan is, perhaps, the best and worst example.
Before Order 66, Anakin never stopped protecting him. Now, Vader never stops hunting him.
It worries her, that fact. Not because she knows that if Obi-Wan gets caught so will she, but due to the fact that she knows Vader will torture him until he has nothing left to give, to surrender, to lose.
And, quite unfortunately, she is a very good weapon against Obi-Wan.
She knows that anyone merely has to threaten her seriously, and Obi-Wan will comply. He will protect her to the last drop of his blood, the last breath from his lungs, the last beat of his heart, from anyone and everyone. Especially Vader.
When she returns with food and drinks, Obi-Wan is watching some hologram recording. As she puts the tray down by Luke, who immediately goes for it, she turns her attention to the hologram – and nearly jumps.
The woman in that hologram looks almost exactly like Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo.
Obi-Wan gives her a sad smile as she crosses the room and sits next to him. He pulls her close to his chest, his arms encircling her waist, so that his mouth is near her ear, as she settles against him, still stunned.
He whispers to her that now she knows the truth.
She murmurs her question: Twins?
He nods subtly, so subtly that Luke, who is staring at them now, doesn't notice. No doubt the boy has never thought a crazy old hermit would be one to show so much affection.
She sighs. The rest of the conversation passes quickly, almost too quickly, and ends with Luke agreeing to drive them to Mos Eisley to find passage on a ship to Alderaan with the R2 unit. She knows that Obi-Wan wants Luke to come with them, but the boy is stubborn – he doesn't want change to happen even though he secretly has yearned for it all his life.
Luke is outside loading the droids when Obi-Wan suddenly stumbles, his eyes going wide and his face going blank.
She is by his side immediately, steadying him. He has never done this before, and while he has aged over the years, he has never lost the fluid grace of the Jedi warrior he once was.
The second her hands make contact with his shoulders, he blinks and returns to normal. His reflexes have his arms around her in a flash, hugging her tightly to him and his heartbeat speeds up and his breathing grows ragged with emotion.
It is almost like a good-bye. Too much like a good-bye.
She shifts nervously under his recollecting gaze, as if he is attempting to memorize her every feature so he will never forget. As if . . . As if he doesn't think he will ever see her again.
She questions what is wrong.
He shakes his head slowly, and tells her quite suddenly that she isn't going.
To say she is startled is an understatement. She hasn't left Tatooine – hasn't left his side – in so long that she doesn't really remember life without him, without his steady presence, his gentle mind.
He repeats the statement firmly, catching hold of her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye.
She starts to protest. She doesn't want him to leave; she doesn't want to separate from him.
He shakes his head again, quickly and sternly. He won't let her go.
He leans forward and gently kisses her on the forehead, and then on the lips. She wraps her arms around her neck and kisses him back, suddenly afraid yet unsure why.
He whispers that he loves her, that he will always love her, by her ear.
And then he is gone.
For a long moment, she just stands there, turning the whole thing over in her mind. She is numb, she is deaf, she is mute. Obi-Wan was everything to her.
Wait – was?
What is wrong with her? Why is she using everything in the past tense?
Frantically, she reaches for the bond – and sighs in relief. It is intact. He is alive.
And then, as she crosses to the window and watches the landspeeder cruise away, Elanor wonders what in the name of the Force made Obi-Wan Kenobi make her stay behind.
W is for Wishes
As Luke drives the speeder away, Obi-Wan Kenobi wishes that he didn't have to do this to Elanor.
Although he has always been strong in the Unifying Force, relying more on the future than the present, through his years with her he has learned to live in the moment. He has clung to every precious second of his time with her – holding her, kissing her, loving her – because there was a little voice inside of him that whispered that there would be no happy ending, no fairytale closure for them.
This is for many reasons.
For one, they are both Jedi, bound to the Order they once served and bound to their sense of duty and what must be done.
For another, they are powerless to fight the will of the Force, the path of destiny, the whims of fate. The Force has decreed that it is time for them to separate, and so separate they shall.
And . . . And he is a bit of a coward. He doesn't want her to come, knowing that her heart will be shattered. He also doesn't Vader to realize she is alive and start hunting her as well. He wants her to be safe.
Because that little voice has suddenly grown into the power of a vision he can't fight.
He knows that he will not return to Elanor after this. He knows that he and Vader will meet, somehow, somewhere, and that he will not survive that confrontation. Luke will; Leia will; but he will not. He will die to give them the chance they need to escape.
The vision was brief but potent. It was a rare occurrence, for he hasn't had such a vision in years – not since when he was a Padawan, during his last mission to Naboo. But the clarity and truth of the visions haven't changed.
Even if he did have the will to fight it, he knows it will come true no matter what.
And he'd rather it come true away from her than right in front of her.
In that, he knows he is a coward. He doesn't want to have Elanor see him die. He doesn't want to feel the agony that will shatter her heart; he doesn't want to see the pain that will make her lovely eyes dim and never light up again; he doesn't want to crush her spirit with the lingering image of his death.
He knows that she can't escape it. They are tied together; they are two halves of one soul. She will feel his death. But at least she won't see it.
Because he knows that if she saw it, the raw pain in her heart and spirit might be enough to override her Jedi training – might be enough to provoke her to fly into a rage-filled vengeance like Qui-Gon did . . . and avenge him herself.
But if she does – whether or not she succeeds, and she very well might – she will have taken the ultimate step to the dark side, and then there will be nothing that will be able to save her – except, perhaps, death.
He would already be dead then, but he doesn't her to suffer that fate because of him. She has suffered more than enough because of him, and the Clone Wars, and Order 66.
That is his only comfort.
But it is still not enough comfort.
And that is why, as the speeder cruises farther and farther away and his bond with Elanor progressively shrinks, Obi-Wan Kenobi wishes with all of his heart that he didn't have to do this, to make this choice – and to break her heart.