Author's Note: This is a Ben Kenobi vignette circling around his thoughts and emotions during Star Wars (1). I feel that Obi-Wan is one of the more tragic characters in the series and I couldn't resist exploring his personality more. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. That universe belongs to George Lucas.
I can still remember.
That is the thing that most haunts me, I think. To forget would leave me free, but to remember keeps those I lost alive. I won't forget. Too much has happened, to me and to my world. It has shrunken now, my universe. It revolves around a planet of sun and sand and a child I have guarded for near on twenty years.
How the mighty have fallen.
I would have thought that once, when I was young and full of life. Still too idealistic to see the truth even though my connection with the unifying force was very strong. Now, I only see what needs to be done. My life will have meant nothing if I cannot complete this last task. I will have been a failure in every respect and that thought cripples me, though I am loathe to admit it. I've had many long years to think about the past, it is always with me, just over my shoulder in a world that no longer remembers like I do. Even for me it is hard to believe the events of my life. Where did everything start? Where will it end? Master Yoda might have been able to answer these questions but the Force tells me I have seen the last the venerable Master. This truth doesn't pain me. I am old and tired and full of regret. Yoda would understand. I wish only now for peace.
A peace he can bring.
I kept my promise to Padmé . It was the only thing I could give her in the wee hours of the morning on misty Dagobah. She had lost so much and would lose more before the end but she held to my promise like a lifeline. I could see it in her eyes. She believed me and so, as I had done once before, I fulfilled a promise I wasn't sure about. I did it because everything else had fallen apart. I did it because I saw in him my chance for whatever small redemption he might be able to give me. It's selfish, yes, but I can not meet my Master with this guilt on my heart. I will do what I must, as I have always done, and hope that it will be enough.
It never is.
It's odd, really. I look at him and I see his father as clear as day. Not in everything, but in those rare moments when I feel a tingling along the Force, untrained but with the raw power that I once felt in Anakin. It is odd and a little daunting. My mistakes with Anakin led to ruin. I cannot make them again. I will not.
I thought, back then, that I could do it. Train Anakin as Qui-Gon or Yoda could have, but I was wrong. I wasn't ready, I see that now, though part of me wants to believe that it was destiny that brought him to me. That I was meant to teach Anakin. But then again, to believe that means to believe that Qui-Gon was meant to die and that I…
I was meant to fail.
Perhaps it is so. I will never know in any case. I go on, I survive, as I always have. I live but the scars on my heart still bleed.
When will it end? This cycle of death and destruction and feeble hope.
I wish for it soon.
I have seen too much. Proud cites falling into dust, the end of an age of nobility and integrity and the rise of something infinitely darker. One man should not have to bear so much but it is my task and no one else. My punishment is to live where others have died, the sufferer of a lonely fate.
I sometimes wonder about that. Of all the Jedi, only Yoda and I remain. I can still see their faces and remember their deaths but the Force no longer resonates with their presence. It is tragic and heartbreaking to dwell on. The proud Jedi, gone and nearly forgotten, along with their works of wonder and magic. The times when we thrived are some of my best memories.
I miss them.
But with the time I have left, there might yet be a pathway in the dark.
If I tread carefully.
I close my eyes.
"Please help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."
May the Force save me, I can still remember.