Brothers Beyond Blood

Let's say, for argument's sake, that Anakin and Obi-wan have a more brotherly relationship than the usual father/son one portrayed. How would this have come about? I've always thought them more like brothers more than anything, so here's my take on how they came to be that way.

I'd also like to add that this post is short, not in my normal writing style and also, it is the only fan fic so far in which I write Obi-wan and his speech pattern as that of the actor who plays him and how he is portrayed in the movie. Ewan is a great guy, really. But he can be a little stiff. And girls, no matter how cute he is, remember, he's not really Obi- wan Kenobi.

Obi-wan Kenobi, recently appointed Jedi Knight and new master to a padawan learner, awoke with a headache. Groaning in aggravation, as it was only five in the morning, he rolled off his bed and landed hard on the floor. Ignoring the throbbing in his knees, Obi-wan climbed sleepily to his feet and stumbled toward the fresher.

What had woken him up?

Even in his days as a padawan, Obi-wan had always slept as late as he could in the mornings. It would usually be eight or so before he even considered opening his eyes. The sun would creep into his bedroom, tugging at his eyelids. And Master Qui-gon would have to-


The pounding in his head replaced momentarily by the ache in his heart, Obi- wan glared into the mirror as he washed his bearded face.

Three months. Three months since the fateful battle on Naboo and the loss of his dearest friend and master. He should be over it by now. Obi-wan knew that. When a Jedi was killed, his or her death was mourned, but accepted, and then, for the best, they all moved on.

The galaxy did not stop for a single individual.

But still the loss tore at Kenobi. He sighed, accepting that his appearance as well as his heart would remain in a shambled condition this morning and abandoned the fresher for the bedroom to find something to wear.

Dressed properly at least, the Jedi Knight made his way from the little bedroom that had once been his master and into the kitchen quarters.

There, he found he was not the only one to rise with the sun that morning.


The young Jedi padawan and former slave looked up from his seat at the kitchen table and smiled his master a warm good morning.

"Hey, Master Obi-wan. Sir."

"What are you doing up this early?"

The little blond boy's smile faded for a moment, the small spark of fear appearing in his eyes Obi-wan had soon learned meant he feared being aggressively reprimanded. Anakin's face seemed to say, 'Please, don't hurt me!' Seeing this, Obi-wan sighed and took a seat across from his padawan. This would have to change.

"Ummm . . . thinking." Anakin finally made out, when the master was no longer standing and imposing such a dangerous figure.

"I see. About what?" That's right, Obi-wan. Try and get to know the boy. Force knows you've both been secluded enough since Qui-gon's death. Better to form a bond.

"Promise not the get mad?"

Obi-wan cocked an eyebrow and stared at his young charge. "Why would I get mad?" The boy didn't answer, just looked away. That was not a good sign. It meant that whether or not Anakin had done something bad, he refused to take responsibility for it and look his master in the eye. "Tell me, Anakin."

"I . . . " the boy shrugged hopelessly and finally looked back at his master, if somewhat hesitantly. "I was thinking of Master Qui-gon, sir. I miss him."


There it was again. A deep wound in his heart. A place where part of him had been ripped away, and nothing could fill it. But it was also a barrier between him and young Skywalker. A part of Obi-wan hated Anakin for the gap the boy had made between student and former master.

But that gap had already been there, from all the missions they had been on and the recent events, from Obi-wan's leaving the Order to Qui-gon's near turn to the Darkside.

Young Skywalker was not to blame. It was not right for Obi-wan to be jealous of him. How could Anakin know of these things any way? Kenobi allowed himself to sigh and push the emotions away.

"I know you do, Anakin. But as a Jedi, you must learn to accept his death."

Anakin looked helplessly up at Obi-wan, those big blue eyes looking for love, for comfort, for friendship. All the things Obi-wan didn't know how to give or how to show. The boy gave his own sigh and looked away. "I know, master, sir. But it's so hard." He paused, watching out the window for a moment and Obi-wan thought the conversation had ended. Then a little voice from the other end of the table asked, "You miss him too, don't you?"

First lesson of the day, Obi-wan decided, would be how to not breach other people's shields. But he found himself answering, "Yes." He rose from the table, intending to leave it at that and tell the boy to go meditate.

But once again, Anakin surprised him. "He's the only father I've ever known. He was so . . . so good and so . . . kind."

And that struck a cord in Kenobi's heart. Yes, Qui-gon had been good and kind. He had been caring and understanding and always had known what was the right thing to do, even if it meant bending the rules of the Order. Kenobi sighed. Master Jinn, having found a young Obi-wan feeling as Anakin was now, would have sat down and talked, not pushed the feelings aside and left it at that.

So, Kenobi gave in and sat back down at the table, hoping that whatever it was he was supposed to say to Anakin would come to him, because he lacked the know-how of even how to begin discussing this.

"Yes, he was. And he cared for you very much, Anakin."

There was resentment there, in that statement, and as much as Obi-wan tried to choke it down, he was almost sure Anakin had heard it. But if he had, young Skywalker didn't acknowledge it.

But he did smile softly, with all those golden Anakin charms. "For you too, Master Obi-wan. I saw it in the way he looked at you. You were like his son."

Oh, it hurt. Force, it hurt. Make it stop, Obi-wan thought. Send these emotions away. What right did the boy have to bring these things up; to give light to a room, a place Obi-wan had locked away in the darkest places of his heart?

Kenobi swallowed hard. "Anakin, Master Qui-gon was a very caring man . . . "

What more could he say? There was so much to say about his former master, his friend. But there were not words. And even if there were, this hurt. This hurt far too much. Obi-wan wasn't used to caring so much it hurt him inside.

But Anakin seemed to know what to say. He just sat there with a dreamy look on his face and kept talking, as if he was alone with nothing but the memories. "He loved you so much, Master. I don't think I've ever seen a father who loved his son more than Master Qui-gon loved you. I wish I could have had a father who cared about me that way."

I wish, I wish, I wish. The boy had nothing but wishes. I wish I could be free. I wish I could one day be a Jedi. I wish I had had a father. Simple things, really. All things he should have had, things no being should be without, a father and their freedom. And what of being a Jedi? Obi-wan would do what he could to see to it Anakin became a Jedi; the boy deserved it.

Qui-gon had already taken care of freeing the boy, and of being a father. Anakin just didn't know it. Obi-wan decided he needed to know it. As much as it might hurt Kenobi.

"Anakin . . . Master Qui-gon loved you too. Don't ever doubt it. I know, because I saw it." Remembering his own attitude toward the innocent boy back then, only three months before, Obi-wan winced. "And I'm sorry," he added, "it made me a little . . . well, maybe a little jealous. But he did love you like a son."

Obi-wan didn't think he would have regretted saying something like that, as much as it hurt him, because it needed to be said. But he did when tears filled Anakin's eyes and the boy began to sniff sadly.

Completely ignorant of what to do, Obi-wan sat there is surprise and let the boy rub away the tears with the back of his hand.

There was a silence hanging between them, but neither was quite ready to fill the emptiness. Kenobi felt much safer by not speaking at all, should his voice would give him away, so he sat and simply watched Skywalker stare out the window as he thought his child's thoughts.

It was a few minutes before Anakin could speak again, and when he did, his voice was soft and sad. As if Obi-wan hadn't had enough surprises for one morning, one day even, the padawan cleared his throat and asked, "Does that make us brothers? Because Master Qui-gon loved us both like sons?"

Did it? Was that what it meant?

Obi-wan thought of the family he had left when just a babe, never knowing his blood brothers and sisters. Or had he been an only child? Never to know. But then, he didn't really care. And yet . . .

"Yes. In a way," Obi-wan admitted, "it does."

"Wow." Anakin's teary-eyed face lit with a smile, and Obi-wan, seeing it, felt better than he had all morning. Maybe, in truth, than he had for three months. "I always wanted a brother."

Despite the smile threatening to break onto his face, Obi-wan knew here he had to be firm. Some things, no matter how wonderful, could not allowed to get out of hand. "But Anakin, I am always your master first. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Still, the smile remained, undying.

"Good." Was all Obi-wan was able to get out. Why did such a simple thing, something so easy to give to a child, make Obi-wan feel so good, so warm inside? And why was it he felt it here, giving something the Order forbid, his love, to a child, when he had never before felt it on all the righteous missions he had gone on with his master?

Questions for later, Kenobi supposed.



Anakin hesitated, squirming in his seat, but his curiosity, and maybe even his newly awoken trust in his brother won out, and Skywalker found himself asking the question anyway. "On day, when it doesn't hurt you so much to talk about Master Qui-gon, . . . will you tell me about him? So, that way, I'll know what he was like? The way you did?"

That was simple enough to agree to. Though that day may never come. "Yes, Anakin. One day."

The boy smiled that shining smile again, touching Obi-wan's heart with light. "Thanks! Then, I can tell you about my mom! And it'll be like you had a mother then too!"

How, Obi-wan wondered amidst the battle to control the tears threatening to rise, had he ever been jealous of this boy? This child so full of light and love and giving? Anakin was truly amazing. For he had done the one thing not even Qui-gon had been able to do.

He had won Obi-wan's heart.

"That . . . that would be nice, Anakin. I never knew my real mother. All Jedi children are taken and brought into the Order at a very young age. We never know our blood parents or brothers and sisters."

"But that's so sad! Then you never have a family!"

Yes, it was. Obi-wan had never thought so before, but now he realized just how sad, how heartbreaking it might be, to have never known a family, or to have been very close to them and then taken away. At last, he sympathized with Skywalker's loss.

"The Jedi," he told Anakin, as well as himself, "are my family. And yours too, now."

But Skywalker was not to be put out. He continued to smile brightly and nodded to show he understood. "And we can be each other's family. Right, Master Obi-wan? Brothers."

"Yes," Obi-wan allowed himself a small grin. It was a special occasion, after all. "Brothers."

"And I'll make you proud of me one day! I promise." Anakin told his master triumphantly, hopping down from his chair and making for the door. "I'm going to go practice meditating right now! I'll make you proud."

And then Kenobi was alone in the kitchen.

'One day' was today, Obi-wan thought. He was already proud.

Hoping to keep the tears at bay, the Jedi Master rose from the table and walked to the door of sitting room and watched with a loving smile as his padawan learner settled into meditation. The Force reached out a touched him, approving of the words spoken between he and Skywalker.

Anakin had not filled the spot in Kenobi's heart left open and bleeding from Qui-gon's death, but he had become a light in the Jedi's life. A light he had thought had burned out on Naboo and left him alone in this cold, empty galaxy.

He had a brother . . .

Looking at Anakin now, how could he ever have known this boy would one day be the death of him?