fr they’re doing so well at giving us an obi wan who genuinely wants to do the right thing, but is so debilitated by his fears and trauma that he can’t function nearly as highly as people him expect him to. he’s obi wan. he’s witty and quick and capable and arguably the best jedi of his generation but he can’t reach for his lightsaber first. he can’t talk about the family he couldn’t bury, and the brother he watched get consumed by flames and hate. he doesn’t want the responsibility of his name, or his order, bc if he couldn’t save anakin, how can he be trusted to save anyone else? he sees anakin in the desert. he almost collapses when he feels vader. he can’t fight him and hasn’t tried to fight in years and practically lets himself get caught. he hasn’t touched the force in a decade. he’s in pain, but he wants to be strong. for leia. for luke. they need him, but he doesn’t want them to. the galaxy needs him, but he cant. not yet.
After watching episode 3 of Kenobi, I rewatched The Phantom Menace and I am feeling a certain way about things.
Little Anakin is so cute. He’s so sweet and genuine and he has such generosity of spirit. I understand why Qui-Gon believed in him. Of course he would think there’s no way this boy could grow up to be so violent, to drag someone he loved across a burning fire. How could he?
I see Obi-Wan with an arm around Anakin and turning to Anakin and promising him, promising him that he will be a Jedi. The weight of that promise being that Obi-Wan will stand with him and guide him and teach him so that he can become the best version of himself, the one that he dreams he can be. Obi-Wan promises to love him.
Before Obi-Wan makes that promise, we’re shown the seeds of Vader. They are small. Those seeds are so small. They are so tiny they haven’t even started to break from their shell. But they are there. And someone has to recognize them. Someone has to point them out and look at them and ask what they will grow into and ask if it’s really a good idea to water and fertilize the good sprouts when the bad seeds could grow along with them. Maybe it would be better to let fate take its course. Maybe on their own, the bad seeds won’t grow so large. Maybe they won’t even grow at all.
When the Council shines a light on those seeds, Qui-Gon disregards them because he sees how great the good sprout could grow. He says look at this beautiful plant I have nurtured, let me do the same for another. He’s not finished nurturing the first plant.
When the Council asks Anakin to take a look at those seeds, examine them, study them to see what they truly are, he refuses. When they ask if he is prepared to dig them out, because he is the only one who can dig them out, he refuses. He glares at them when they step back.
But the sprout is so good and full and has so much potential. There is time, he will grow, and he can learn to examine the bad seeds within. He can learn to see them for what they are and root them out so that they don’t strangle the good growth. He will not choose to let them grow. They have faith.
Qui-Gon asks his first plant to share with the new one, to guide him, to let him grow, to nurture him. And he does. Obi-Wan does all of that for Anakin and more. He allows them to become intertwined and supports Anakin as he grows but Anakin does not grow to stand on his own. Because ten years later he still refuses to examine the bad seeds and dig them out, they have grown beneath the dirt and strangle the roots of that sweet and genuine boy who helped those strangers in need. His good stems are struggling because of it.
The bad seeds breach the surface and Anakin pushes them back under the soil. He doesn’t snip them. He doesn’t pull them out by the roots. He doesn’t even dig into the dirt to study them. He buries them so that Obi-Wan won’t see. So that he won’t have to see.
They continue to grow together anyway. Until the bad seeds breach the soil again and Obi-Wan has to snip the stems because Anakin won’t do it himself. He didn’t snip them deep enough. They grew back. And now that little boy who had such generosity and so much love to give to others is dragging the man who promised to love him across a blazing fire.
Surprise! I wrote this quick fic yesterday and finished it this morning. It has references to Episode 3 of Obi-Wan Kenobi so be careful if you’re trying to avoid spoilers :)
Obi-Wan:can I have some help? any advice? Master? Yoda? someone? anyone in the Force at all? Anakin hallucination: hey Obi-Wan: Obi-Wan: Obi-Wan: that one is on me, I should have known better than to ask for help
Okay I said this in a reply elsewhere, but I’m going to give it its own post also
So yes, there are absolutely some Holocaust parallels what with ordinary people hiding Jedi in hidden rooms and a freedom trail out of empire controlled space (also slavery underground railroad parallels) but can we not just make this into a Jedi as victims thing, and remember that the episode also showed how much the Jedi were *still* holding onto their faith, decorating the room with symbols of their faith, and writing proverbs on the walls?
That they still tried to find hope that they would get through this and again be able to practice freely? Please don’t just say that the parallels of Jedi to Jews is that of being victims. There’s more to it than that.
Anyway back to my fic about all the Jedi who left their marks on the Wall now and have a whole lot of feelings about how they were not just doing it for themselves, but for all the other Jedi who might see it, and the ones who would never get the chance to.
girl help im experiencing shrimp emotions about the Jedi refugee bunker messages
It’s–these are the barest handful of survivors of a galaxy-wide genocide, and none of them will ever see another of their kind again. So they carve their names into the walls, just in case. Maybe one of your friends is still alive and you’ll never see each other again, will not, cannot, but the Force is with you still and maybe someday they’ll see your name and know you got this far. Maybe someday you’ll see theirs.
But then it’s not just the names, it’s–the sigils. The blessings. The Jedi maxims.
A smuggling ring that evacuates what should have been the next generation. These Force-sensitive children who will never, for their own safety, be raised among their own kind. Will not. Cannot.
Separate the lock from the key. Scatter the survivors, never in the same place, so that only one (one of these Jedi who take strength in connections, who were nevermeant to be alone) can be lost at a time. In case there’s an after. In case someday, somewhere, for someone, there’s an after.
The Archives were seared from existence. Surviving Jedi temples and outposts and scattered texts are reduced to rubble every day whenever they’re found and it would be madness to send a child looking anyway. So how do you pass on what little remains? How do you tell these frightened children who should have been Jedi what they had the right to know? How do you give them the culture that could have been theirs?
Scratches on concrete. No way to give them long messages, no time to try. This is the only chance you will ever have to tell them something, to make sure the core of who the Jedi were survive, to try to help them understand. To preserve.
What do you pass on?
Proverbs. Meditation mantras that double as survival advice. The sigil of your Order, all the comfort your kind have left. (The base of what will someday become the rebel starbird, rising from ashes, but they don’t know that yet, half of them will die before they see it.)
What do you pass on? Only what’s most important. Only what cannot ever be lost.
The Force will be with you always. Only when your eyes are closed can you truly see the Way. For light and life.
Since we haven’t started the @jedijune prompts yet, I thought I’d just do a bit of a teaser for what I have planned.
A lot of my Jedi content this month will focus on their relationship with younglings, and there’s not better way to start things off than to remind you all that Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi actually spoils kids a lot and always have.
There’s just so much softness and love and fondness here, and it’s beautiful.
+ Bonus: Yes, he spoiled Anakin too, just a bit <3
IMPERIALSTARDESTROYERS as depicted in STARWARS misc. media The Empire Strikes Back (1980) | Thrawn: Treason (2019) | Star Wars Visions (2021) Lop & Ōcho | Jedi: Fallen Order (2019) | Darth Vader (2015) Issue #9 | Tarkin (2014) | Star Wars: Rebels - 4.07 Kindred (2017) | Rogue One (2016) | Star Wars (2015) Issue #22 | Aftermath: Life Debt (2016) | Star Wars Squadrons (2020) Release Trailer | Return of the Jedi (1983) | Star Wars (2015) Issue #8 | Star Wars: Rebels - 1.14 Fire Across the Galaxy (2015) | Choices of One (2011) | Darth Vader (2017) Issue #16 | TESB: From a Certain Point of View (2020) The Final Order | Rogue One(2016)
[id: expanding brain meme that goes “Thinking Leia is feral because she’s Anakin’s daughter” > “Thinking Leia is feral because she’s PADME’S daughter” > “Realizing Leia is feral because there’s an entire TCW episode where the plot is that Padme calls Bail and says “BAIL MEET ME AT THE DOCKS BRING GUNS” and he just fucking does it because he’s insane”]
“Are you my real father?” hit like a truck because Leia Organa is tremendously powerful in the Force, some part of her remembers her mother, just vaguely, but she does. “She was beautiful, kind, but sad,” Leia says in Return of the Jedi. She remembers that day on Polis Massa in some way, just brief, fleeting memories, but she does.
“Sometimes when I look at Luma, I see her mother’s face. We all miss her very much.“ rings with so much truth in the Force that Leia, with her ability to see into people, to know when they’re lying, to read them like an open book, knows that’s true.
Somehow, he knew her mother. From there, it’s not a big leap to, “Are you my real father?”, it’s a reasonable conclusion, if the wrong one.
But some part of her feels it, too. Because some part of her must remember him as well, Obi-Wan was there that day, even if she may not knowingly recognize him.
If Leia remembers her mother, she likely remembers Obi-Wan, too.
