Chapter 35
The sand that the ship kicked up as it took off stung his face. But Obi-Wan's mind didn't really catch up to that. He was struggling too much with his inner turmoil - the feeling that something bad was about to happen.
Subconsciously, one of his hands shot up to the collar under his scarf, his fingernails digging under the metal in an attempt to rip the thing off.
A warm hand closed around his and released his fingers from their iron grip. He only now realized he was bleeding - the sticky feeling on his neck and fingers and the smell of iron.
"You shouldn't do this, Obi-Wan," Shmi spoke softly, still holding his hand, "... now you're bleeding."
Obi-Wan squared his jaw in response and fixed her with milky eyes. "It has been since they put it on me," he murmured sharply, earning him a gasp, "What's a few more drops?"
The hand around his tightened. "But there's no need to hurt yourself..."
A hollow laugh escaped his throat. "Is there really not?"
"Obi-Wan, we're worried about you."
He could imagine exactly how Shmi must be looking at him right now - full of pity.
He abruptly withdrew his hand and settled it back on the handle of his crutch. "... I think I need to go for a walk."
"It's getting dark already," Shmi argued immediately, holding him back by the arm as he was about to turn away.
His patience was wearing thin. "You know as well as I do that it makes no difference to me," he bit out.
"And where do you think you're going? You can barely stand on your feet," Shmi hissed back, now also audibly annoyed.
He clenched his teeth, forced a breath out of his nose - and let go of his tension. "Shmi, please," he reasoned with her again, much calmer now, "... I just need this."
The hand on his arm softened a little. "... then let me go with you."
The more dominant part of him didn't want that. But his voice of reason whispered that he should accept the offer.
"… Fine," he breathed, adjusting his scarf so that it mostly covered the collar again.
Without waiting for her to react, he set off. He knew the way to his destination blindly. Leaning on his crutches, he walked forward with the surest step he could muster, listening intently to his surroundings. He heard the wind whistling around the houses, the birds chirping - Shmi walking beside him with quiet steps.
The cobblestones beneath his shoes quickly turned to pebbles and then to uneven, overgrown forest floor. Obi-Wan stopped short, suddenly aware that things might be more difficult than he had previously thought.
"What's wrong?" Shmi asked, having accompanied him in silence until now.
He hated having to admit his problems.
"The path," he admitted quietly, "... I'm afraid the vegetation has taken it over."
Fortunately for him, Shmi didn't rub any more salt in his wound. "Tell me where we're going and I can guide you," she offered instead, "... if you trust me."
Obi-Wan was ashamed of himself but still tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. "It should not be far anymore. Just walk straight ahead until you reach a clearing with a large tree and pond on it."
"Alright," Anakin's mother breathed, gently placing a hand on his arm and leading him slowly forward, whispering little warnings whenever something got in their way.
He knew they had reached their destination when he heard Shmi make a surprised noise next to him. "Oh..."
A shallow grin stretched across his face. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked melancholically, his memories illuminating his otherwise dark surroundings.
Slowly, he released himself from Shmi's grip and limped forward until he could feel the bark of the old tree with his fingers. A few tears pricked at the corners of his eyes but he forced himself to pull himself together.
Not now.
His hand moved further upwards, where it felt the first wooden beams above his head - and the remains of a rope ladder.
"Did you build that?" Shmi murmured, her voice vibrating with astonishment.
Obi-Wan swallowed hard and lowered his hand again. "My father and I built it...," he confirmed, "For a long time, the idea of building a tree house had been nothing more than an old joke between us... until one day, on one of my visits, we just did it," sadness spread through his heart, "... I had always wished somewhere that maybe I could show it to Anakin."
He knew it was unfair – telling her that. But still he could not stop himself.
"I'm sorry…," Obi-Wan quietly added after a moment.
"No," Shmi returned equally stifled, "… don't be."
Her words did nothing to ease the weight that had settled on his heart.
He took a step back from the tree and awkwardly began to kneel down, his prosthetic creaking loudly as he forced the joint to bend. A sharp pain ran through his back, making his breath hitch and forcing him to catch himself with his hands on the floor.
Wordlessly Shmi settled her hands on his shoulders and gently eased his upper body upright, so that he could readjust his leg.
"Thank you," he breathed, once again wishing he could meet her gaze.
Her fingers squeezed him gently before withdrawing again.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to tame his inner turmoil. He was not to succeed.
With shaky hands, he finally felt over the forest floor in front of him until they found what he was searching for.
The stone felt exactly as he remembered it. Over the years, moss had begun to overgrow the surface - trying to hide the aching truth from him.
I definitely need to clean this place… maybe plant some flowers.
His fingers dug into the growth and pulled it out with a tug. Obi-Wan let the greenery fall to the ground regardless - too caught up with what has been hidden underneath.
Delicately - as if it could hurt him, and of course it would - he traced the precisely chiseled notches in the smooth stone.
Renan Ben Kenobi
Siala Kenobi
Loved and Unforgotten
He suddenly felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over him, making him shiver harshly. It became even harder to breathe around the lump in his throat and suddenly he found himself choking, his body shaking so violently that he threatened to fall over.
The tears he had tried to hold in the whole time began to fall mercilessly.
He only noticed that Shmi had sat down next to him when she gently took his hand. "Do you want me to stay or do you need a moment to yourself?" she asked calmly.
It was supposed to be a simple question, but at that moment it made Obi-Wan struggle with his decision.
Sending her away would be the easiest solution - and he could shovel his pain back into himself alone, hiding it from others. Adjust the mask in front of his face.
The last person he had allowed to see his weaknesses had been Satine.
His beautiful angel whom he had failed so miserably.
"... please stay," it tumbled out of him ever so quietly.
"Of course," Shmi whispered, "Is it okay for you if I hug you?"
Still fighting to get his breath under control, he gave a hesitant nod. His body still involuntarily tensed up as her arms looped around him, pulling him against her side.
"Sometimes I wonder if I ever made the right decision...," he finally blurted out, his hand clenching on the gravestone, "... if it's fair that so many have already had to go - and I'm still sitting here."
"None of what happened is your fault, Obi-Wan."
He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, hiding the evidence carved into his face. "... I think your son sees it differently."
"Anakin is a man of his own decisions - and only his own. You taught him with the best of intentions, but how he applied his knowledge in the end was entirely up to him... all I can say is that as his mother, I couldn't have asked for a better mentor for him."
The words that should have been soothing instead tugged at his heart, making it feel like someone was trying to rip it out.
"...Then why couldn't he trust me, Shmi? ...why did he feel like I was his worst enemy when I should have been his brother?"
He let the question hang between them, pulling out of her embrace and proceeded with pushing himself awkwardly to his feet. The splint around his back had begun to pinch uncomfortably and Obi-Wan grimaced as he placed one of his hands against the throbbing spot, though it did nothing to ease his discomfort.
He wished he could reach the Force. With his other hand, he hastily wiped the remnants of tears from his face.
A rustling beside him told him that Shmi was also getting up. A moment later, his crutches were held out to him.
Obi-Wan released his hand from his back and intended to take the crutches, but Shmi held them tightly.
"Promise me one thing Obi-Wan...," she whispered sharply, "Promise me you'll stop blaming yourself for everything."
With a jerk, he pulled the crutches towards him and looked up briefly at the sky, which offered him nothing but blackness. "I can't do that," he replied, finally turning his head in her direction, "You know that too."
"Very well," Shmi conceded, "But I won't stop trying."
Obi-Wan did not try to give her a smile. "I don't expect you to."
They made their way back together in silence, each of them lost in thought. Only when they climbed the steps of the house did Shmi speak again.
"...I could take care of it, you know," she offered.
Frowning, Obi-Wan stopped. "Take care of what?"
Her hesitation told him that she was unsure. "The grave...," she finally murmured, "Only if you want to, of course... but I can imagine how hard it must be for you."
She could never imagine.
He shook his head. "I can't ask you to do that."
"Please, Obi-Wan. You gave us the farm and we are so eternally grateful for it... Let us at least give you something back."
"You're already doing so much by letting me stay here," he pressed his lips together, "...this is more than enough."
"This is your home..."
"This is not my home," Obi-Wan snapped abruptly, interrupting her, "... At least it hasn't been for some time."
For a moment, he was glad that he couldn't see anything. The memories that lingered in this place - they were too much to bear. When he had realized on his arrival that Cliegg and Shmi had not changed anything in the house, it had triggered something indescribable.
It left a burning sensation - a longing. The desire for something he would never have again.
The realization that he had made this decision at a young age and now had to live with the consequences.
Obi-Wan had fought to become a Jedi - and had turned his back on his real family.
Maybe they would still be alive if you hadn't left, whispered the dark voice in his head.
"Can we maybe talk tomorrow...?" he rubbed his temples, "I'm - I'm tired."
"Of course," Shmi responded and it was everything Obi-Wan needed to almost flee to his room.
He sat down heavily on the bed, disposing his crutches at the end of it before running a shaky hand over his too short hair. His fingers clenched around the short strands, trying to pull on it but finally finding nothing to latch onto.
Letting out a frustrated growl, Obi-Wan dropped his hand and stared daggers into the darkness instead, his eyes beginning to sting again.
It felt like only yesterday that he had been sitting here with his father. Or how his mother had sat smiling in the chair at his desk, the sunlight bathing her blonde hair in a golden hue.
The longer he thought about it, the more he realized how much his memory of his parents was threatening to fade. He had taken a photo of them with him after they had died - but now it was useless to him.
Besides, he had had to leave it behind in the temple - along with many other things that meant something to him.
Absently, Obi-Wan finally loosened the clasps of his prosthetic and slowly detached it from his stump, wincing as the cool evening air touched the irritated skin.
He deposited his leg on the floor beside the bed before lying down, his head landing heavily on the pillow. His back pinched uncomfortably and he would have liked to remove the back brace as well but he knew that he was not allowed to.
Even though he knew he would find no rest, he eventually closed his eyes, letting himself be dragged under.
This time it wasn't a nightmare that haunted him, but a memory.
The Force was gone, but he still felt the dark presence that had settled over the room. His arms jerked in the restraints, his shoulders aching from the strain.
A cynical voice spoke to him - no, not just any voice, the Chancellor. The Chancellor was there, threatening him.
He wants Anakin .
Obi-Wan shivered involuntarily, fear making itself known.
Obi-Wan licked his chapped and bloodied lips. "If it's him you want... then why am I here?"
"Because it is you who stands in my way."
He had given a snippy reply and that was all it took. Suddenly he found himself hanging from his neck, desperately struggling to breathe.
The pieces clicked together like a puzzle.
The Force. Someone was choking him with the Force. Palpatine.
Palpatine was using the Force.
Palpatine is the Sith Lord .
Obi-Wan shot up with a scream that died on his lips. Still caught in shock, he realized too late that he was falling, having moved so much that he had rolled out of bed.
With a loud crack, his shoulder collided with the hard wooden floor and at the same moment he felt the pop as his shoulder joint gave way. The pain barely registered, as terror began to settle deep inside him.
Palpatine is the Sith Lord.
