I’ve been to a galaxy far far away today! The SW fan exhibition ‘Outpost One’ in Dassow, Germany. THIS comes very close to a true Star Wars experience! So much heart and love and detail went into it. And it’s still expanding! My love for the original trilogy was fueled again!
All I could think about during Vader’s first face-off with Obi Wan was the jedi rule “if a jedi ignites their lightsaber, they must be ready to take a life.” And when Vader first lights his saber and reveals himself, Obi-Wan seemed to seriously think about it—like we can SEE the gears turning in his head—and he chooses to run instead. We know Obi-Wan’s rusty, we know he hasn’t fought in years, we know he has reason to fear him, but after all this time, he did not ignite that lightsaber until he was no longer in Vader’s line of sight. He wasn’t ready to take Anakin’s life on Mustafar, he isn’t ready now, and he never, ever will be.
One can take what is freely given, and nothing in what Obi-Wan says implies that things were otherwise. In fact, he’s being directly and explicitly paralleled with Leia in that scene, so unless you think the show is also condemning the Organas for taking in Leia (it’s not), then it’s also not condemning the Jedi for taking in Obi-Wan (or any other Jedi). Thinking on what could have been, the people they could have known and called family is wistful, certainly, but it doesn’t mean that they would ever trade their adoptive families for it or that they think their adoptive families were wrong for taking them in.
Imagine missing the explicit parallels being drawn in that scene that hard.
Look, here’s the thing about adoption:
Sometimes the biological family is simply not equipped to raise their child. There can be any number of reasons why, a question of substance misuse, domestic abuse, one partner not being in the picture, dire financial straights, disability of the child, or the parents just not being willing to raise the child themselves. Whatever the case is, even if it’s for completely selfish reasons, on some level the parents recognize, “I am not the right person for this child. They deserve better than me.” And so they give the child to someone else who iscapable of raising and providing for that child.
And yeah, it’s sad. It’s often tragic. It’s not ideal. Adoptees do sometimes wonder about the “what if’s“. (But sometimes they don’t; my husband is one of them. Aside from wanting to know their medical history so he can know his, it’s not something that ever really bothers him at all.) But the sad mystery does not negate the happiness and love that that child found with their new family.
That’s what adoption and found family is about. Smaller incomplete pieces coming together to form a whole.
Obi-Wan sometimes wonders about his birth family, true. But he was also immeasurablyhappy to be adopted by the Order, and considers them his “true” family, regardless of what blood says. As did pretty much all the Jedi in the Order.
Theyare an adopted family, even if they don’t follow the traditional nuclear model.
You stirred at a sound of rustling. It was a strange way of waking. For after so long, you were used to being stirred by wandering hands and the dimness of the light’s morning setting, that bathed your quarters in a soft yellow glow. It was a colder way of waking that left you wanting.
And at the sight of Obi Wan is shrugging on his first robes, it’s chill grew. Your chest grew heavy and tension gathered in your shoulders. Every weight you felt, that of the world, the galaxy, this situation, shifted with you as laid on your side to watch your lover leave.
“Is it time already?” Your words came out horse, riddled with the leftovers of sleep and haunted by the blissed-out ghost of your voice from the night before. Obi Wan already slipped his arms through the sleeves as you asked. When he pivoted his stance to face you, you caught a glimmer in his blue eyes.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Pity,” you murmured, turning to rest on your back and face the cold, lonely ceiling. “Felt like there were things we could continue.”
“For both our sakes, I don’t think we should.”
“Careful,” you warned, flicking your gaze back over to Obi Wan. “You’re starting to sound more and more like the collective Council.”
“There are rules, Y/N.”
You nodded bitterly and returned your eyes to the ceiling. The moment you did, you heard Obi Wan’s boot clomp against the floor of your room. It took your every ounce of willpower to keep from watching him as he walked out your door. You simply stayed still, listening for the hiss that would come with the opening entrance and his dulled footfalls.
When the sound of the door never sounded, you turned your head and saw him. Obi Wan stood at your bedside, paces away from the exit, paces away from leaving. He was yours, for a few seconds longer. You reached out a lazy hand in the hopes he would take, prove that he was truly yours. That he would stay.
“There are feelings too, Obi,” you countered softly. “Unless there isn’t?”
“No, there are,” he whispered. Obi Wan took your extended hand and a trembling breath slipped past your lips.
Almost as if he heard the shaking in your throat, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, incidentally letting you fall closer into his warmth. His bright blue eyes drank in your features and you were thrust back into similar mornings. Mornings of pillow talk and careful caresses before someone’s comm chimed, tore down the peace you built in the peaceful hours of dawn.
“Then we continue.”
“Then we continue,” he replied, but his lips faltered down into a frown. “But you must know that my allegiances to-”
“The Republic,” you interrupted, giving his hand a soft squeeze. You and Obi Wan had talked so many times about this before, what would happen if what you had fell apart. “As are mine, as are all the Jedi.”
“Yes, but my allegiances to you will endure, whether we continue or not. Know that.”
As he spoke, Obi Wan leaned in closer, until his face was tantalizing few inches from your own. His warmth both put you at ease and stole your breath away. When you felt it soak into the sheets of your bed and to your exposed skin beneath, you also became suddenly aware of how vulnerable you were. But as Obi Wan’s free hand moved to cup your face, you knew he would not exploit that fact; he would protect you, always.
“I know now,” you replied once you found your breath again.
A soft silence settled between you then. Obi Wan’s hands remained on you: his left gave yours a gentle squeeze while the right traced your jawline. He drew you in and pressed the lightest of kisses to the corner of your mouth. You smiled when Obi Wan pulled away before you tugged his lips back to yours. He relented, kissed you harder than the last time.
His beard tickled your chin and coaxed your smile to widen. You felt his own mouth mirror your expression. At the sensation, you titled your head back and studied Obi Wan’s expression. How rare it was to see him smile. You leaned back and savored the sight.
“I’ll see you at today’s meeting?” Obi Wan asked, his tone low in a whisper. You merely nodded in response and he leaned forwards once more, pressed yet another kiss to your forehead.
He stood up then, gave your hand a last squeeze, and headed towards the door of your chambers. Watching Obi Wan leave was never easy. Even in those slow mornings of wandering hands, you always felt a pang of loss when he walked away. But then, that morning, with the tingling feeling of his lips on your yours and your skin lingering, it was lessened.
Though, as always, Obi Wan left with a part of your heart in his.
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