"The Beginning"
Note: This is written with the assumption that Qui-Gon is Liam Neeson's age (46) in TPM and I'm placing Obi-Wan's age at 21 just to make my story work better. (Meaning Qui-gon is 25 when Obi-Wan is born.) I'm also listening to rumors and pretty much B-S-ing details altogether. It has no impact on anything, but is a short, fun story inspired by several fics I've recently read. I'm really just quessing on his birthname and saying they change it just so that Owen can fit in someplace later. And I just chose a planet. Anywho, I know details are off, but whatever. Go figure. (The Sailor Moon 8x5.5 spiral strikes again!! Ha ha!!)
By 'Lia Jovis
Prequel and Old Republic Era
Very minor TPM spoilers contained within. Not to much to worry about.
Summary: About 21 years before TPM, Qui-Gon Jinn meets a very talented young boy.
Disclaimer: Gods! They are all gods and I can control them!!::insert evil laughter::: You know Mo, you were right- I do like being a god! However, George Lucas gets all the *real* credit and money, and no one can
control *that* god. (Sorry, Aradia. I'll stop it, promise.. Well, I'll be good. Or try to. =D)
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The old, dilapedated speeder flew across the vast deserts of Tantooine under the sweltering twin suns. It slowed as it approached the moisture farm which was the only settlement around. It stopped in front of the entrance to the underground dwelling and the dark cloaked figure stepped out as a man exited the building.
The farmer was not quite as tall as the visitor, but tall enough for a human with rugged, weathered features and a dark tan from working in the desert suns. The visitor pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing dark brown hair growing out of a short cut and rugged features that made him appear older than his 25 years.
"You're the Jedi?" the farmer asked a little roughly.
"Yes. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn," the visitor started but was cut off when the farmer turned to reenter his house.
"Follow me."
Qui-Gon obeyed, entering the dwelling and experiencing an abrupt drop in tmeperature. He followed the farmer down into the "courtyard", which was actually a deep pit in the desert where the house had been built into the sides. The farmer, Alan Lars, entered a doorway across the yard, calling out simply, "He's here."
Qui-Gon stood in the entrance, not sure if he should follow Lars into the back room. A woman came out of the room at the end of the hall just as her husband brushed past her. Her red-brown hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck and she, like her husband, had a tanned, weathered look about her. What struck Qui-Gon, however, was the very calm, very resigned and sad look in her eyes. Through the Force, he could feel that she was immensely sad, but determined not to lose her composure. She had made peace with what would happen, as opposed to her very angry husband. Now she simply stated, "You're here for my son."
Qui-Gon nodded, and told her his name. She nodded back. "I remember you. You were here before; with the other Jedi."
Qui-Gon nodded once again, not sure of how to go about this. He and his master had been here only four months earlier, testing the child's midi-chlorian count. It had been astronomical for a two-month old. However, the Council had decided not to remove the boy immediately because he was too young to leave his mother. It had beena chance encounter. Tantooine was a Hutt world, that did not even acknowledge the Republic's presence. Their ship had crashed very near the Lars' farm and Qui-Gon and his master had stayed with them until their ship was repaired. A month or so after leaving Tantooine, Qui-Gon had underwent the Trials and become a Jedi Knight. His first real mission was to return and take the infant from his parents to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Not the most pleasant thing he had done so far.
Now Mrs. Lars cast her eyes down, took a deep breath and then met Qui-Gon's gaze. "He'll be all right?"
Qui-Gon frowned, not entirely sure of the question. It had about a million undertones. "Yes. He will be raised as a Jedi and-"
She cut him off. "Become a protector of the galaxy. I've been told this before." She hesitated and crossed her arms in front of her, looking at the floor. "He's our only child. he's all we have and we aren't sure if I can bear more children. That's why Alan is being so brusque. He can't do anything about this." Looking back into Qui-Gon's eyes, she said, "So what I mean is, will he be safe? Taken care of? ... What will happen to him?"
Qui-Gon smiled gently. This was a question he could answer. "He'll be perfectly safe, Mrs. Lars. Force sensitive children, such as yours, live at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where they learn and grow in the Force, and are uninfluenced by the outside. This keeps them from being influenced in the wrong way and later turning to the Dark Side. Then when they are ready, a Jedi Knight will choose a child as their Padawan; an apprentice to teach the ways of the Force. Once they've learned all that they can from their masters, they rake the Trials and become Jedi Knights."
She nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer, and began making her way down the hall. "He's in here. You can come."
Qui-Gon felt sorry for the parents, but at the same time knew that a child with this kind of power needed to be brought to the Temple. He was sure that it had not been an accident that they had crashed here months before. Qui-Gon followed her into the room at the end of the hall and found himself in a nursery. A crib was set up in a corner and Alan Lars was laying his son back in it. He have Qui-Gon a glare and went to leave but stopped in the doorway. "Promise me something," he said, his voice rough with unshed tears.
Qui-gon nodded, surprised, and the farmer continued. "Watch over him. Take care of my boy." Then he left, ignoring his wife's calls. She murmured an apology as Qui-Gon was left wondering at the farmer's behavior and request. Before he could think anything, or acknowledge her apology, the baby started crying. His mother hurried to the crib, picking him up and cradeling him in her arms, pressing him closely to her. The six-month old continued crying, as if he knew that she was upset. She rested her chin on his head covered with the same light red-brown hair as his mother's, and turned to face Qui-Gon. "He's always been very perceptive." She sniffed, stiffling a sob. "He seems to know how we feel," she murmured, not surprising Qui-Gon in the least. She picked up a satchel on the floor by the bed with her son's things in it and Qui-Gon quickly took the bag from her. She sniffed back another tear, and asked him achingly, "Is it all right if I carry him out?"
Qui-Gon nodded, his heart going out to this brave woman who was losing her only child at just six months. Chances were she would never see him again and they both knew it. The boy continued to wail as she held him tightly, crying silently against him and carrying him out to the speeder.
Outside, she stood holding her baby to her and Qui-Gon put the bag in the speeder. Then they stood facing one another. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she pulled her son away from her enough to look at him, apparently memorizing his features. His mother brushed a finger along his cheek and the infant sniffed, instantly calming. He stopped squirming and looked back at her with a smart, solemn look as though he knew what was happening and what she was thinking. Tears filled her eyes as Qui-Gon watched the look exchanged between mother and son. A tear escaped and trailed its way down her face and the boy frowned, as if confused by her behavior. She smiled at him sweetly through her tears. Qui-Gon put a hand on her shoulder, feeling sorry for her. "He will be a great Jedi," he muttered, trying to lend comfort but as he said it he sensed that he was right. Even in the four months since he had last been here, Qui-Gon could tell that the infant had grown significantly stronger in the Force. "He's a very special boy."
She nodded, never taking her eyes off her son. She shifted him in her arms so that she cradeled him, supporting his head with her elbow. Reaching out, she touched his cheek again. "You hear that, my son?" she asked in a whisper. "You will be a great Jedi and make us proud. You are special, Ben. My baby boy... I love you," she leaned forward and kissed his forehead gently. She walked away from Qui-Gon then, rocking him gently and humming a quiet tune. Qui-Gon watched her from where he stood; she was singing softly and her baby yawned widely, snuggling deeper into her arms. Tears over-flowed and she stopped mid-word and walked back to Qui-gon. She hugged him to her once more and then held him out to Qui-gon who took him gently. The mother looked at her son one last time and then fled into the house, not looking back and leaving Qui-Gon holding a confused six-month old.
Qui-Gon looked at the baby. The Council had already chosen a new name for him- Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan was another form of Ben, and Kenobi was his mother's maiden name; the side of his family with the latent, undiscovered Jedi powers that had somehow manifested themselves in this infant.
he would no longer be Ben Lars, a moisture farmer's son, but Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi.
The baby looked back at Qui-Gon and suddenly burst into terrified tears, twisting himself around in this strange man's arms and reaching for his mother; screaming for her. Qui-gon didn't have much experience with children, especially ones this young, but a sudden protective urge flared up in him. He felt a strange, unexplainable connection with this tiny being. He didn't know why. He had brought children to the Temple before and never once felt anything like this. He knew then that he *would* watch over the boy, despite whatever excuses he could come up for why he shouldn't. The baby's flailing arm hit Qui-Gon, bringing him back to the present with a start. He reached out through the Force to soothe Obi-Wan, at the same time repositioning the squirming boy the way his mother had.
Obi-wan slowly calmed down and lay still in Qui-Gon's arms, looking back up at him with very wise, very solemn wide green-blue eyes, framed by red-brown eyelashes. They looked at one another for a long time; Jedi and infant, and Qui-Gon again felt that strange connection to him, right now overpowered by a surprising overprotectiveness and an urge to protect him.
Obi-Wan finally moved first, reaching out a tiny fist and grasping Qui-Gon's robe. He reached over to release the robe and Obi-Wan quickly grasped his finger with his other small, chubby fist. Qui-Gon gave a slight smile and Obi-Wan laughed gleefully, waving the fist holding his cloak and grinning broadly. Qui-Gon laughed as well, and something told him that this was just the beginning of a long friendship.
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