Girl!AU fic: Struck Speechless
Obi-Wan Girl!Au
Rating: PG
Words: 1,715
Summary: Training a padawan is not the most stress-free of livelihoods. A scene from the lives of newly knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi and ten-year-old Anakin Skywalker.
The Nineteenth Time Anakin Skywalker Struck Obi-Wan Speechless
Obi-Wan opened the fresher door to find her padawan clutching a knife and a bloody palm.
She hurriedly summoned the object with the Force, and Anakin scowled. “Hey, you never let me use my powers to snatch stuff from people. That’s not fair at a-“
“Explain,” Obi-Wan managed to croak, still holding the bloody knife aloft. She hastily lowered it. Oh Force, if the Council could see her now they’d never let her keep Anakin. They probably wouldn’t let anyone keep this crazy padawan, and there went Obi-Wan’s backup plan of having Bant “volunteer” for the duty if something happened to her.
“Explain what?” Anakin asked with shifty eyes. He hid his bloody palm behind his back, as if that would do any good. Obi-Wan dearly hoped this wasn’t normal ten-year-old behavior. When it came time to pick a new padawan, Obi-wan vowed that they would be thirteen with one foot in the door to the Service Corps. Sensible, grateful beings with some degree of maturity. Not ten and picking up the skills of seasoned Knights while gleefully springing themselves into podraces and carving up their own skin for unknown reasons.
…No point getting ahead of herself, anyway. It seemed likely she would need a couple of decades to recover from taking on this padawan.
Obi-Wan drew her hand across her face. “Explain in the living room; I think I need to sit down.”
Anakin followed silently. They sat on the couch together, giving Obi-Wan the chance to rest her somewhat shaky legs. There was a longer silence.
It was a silence that Obi-Wan, as a Master, would be expected to break with a gentle inquiry, when what she really wanted to do was wring Anakin’s foolish neck for nearly giving her a heart attack.
“Perhaps some calming tea,” Obi-wan murmured, standing up to walk over to the kitchen. Then she remembered that her padawan’s strange tendencies toward self-harm were not yet fully explained, and it would be best to keep him in sight. Also, the first aid kit was in the kitchen. (She should probably have remembered that sooner.)
Anakin navigated the droid parts scattered over the living room floor much more easily than she, Obi-Wan noted absently.
There was more silence as she put on the kettle, got the first aid kit out on the table, and motioned for Anakin to give over his palm.
He didn’t budge.
“Anakin, you’re hurt,” she said slowly. “If that cut gets infected, you could get sepsis and die.”
“Wouldn’t the Temple healers save me?” he asked.
Oh, that boy- “Of course they would. And then they’d call the Council up to tell them what a lousy excuse for a Master you have who can’t even protect her padawan inside their own quarters, and if I can’t take care of you when there aren’t any people around how am I supposed to do it when you mishandle a negotiation or crash a speeder or… get kidnapped offworld by an unknown abductor!” Obi-Wan realized her voice was rather loud for a Jedi sworn to release all anger, and stood up from the table to get some of that tea. Calming tea, that’s what she needed. It should be ready by now.
“You’re supposed to take care of me even if I get kidnapped by an unknown person on a different planet?” Anakin asked, confused. “Wouldn’t you just have to get a new padawan after looking for a while?”
Calming tea was not so very calm when it took the shape of a scalding splash of boiling water.
“The only way a Master stops looking for her padawan is if they’re both dead.” Obi-Wan answered him shortly. Honestly, where did the boy get these ideas? “And you, Anakin Skywalker, are not allowed to die. First rule of the joint Kenobi/Skywalker quarters: no dying. Second rule is no cutting yourself open with sharp instruments. Third rule is don’t leave droid parts scattered all over the living room floor where I can trip on them and break my neck. Now, let me see your cut.”
Raising a small child was in many ways similar to negotiating with dangerous criminals. Don’t underestimate (or overestimate) their intelligence. Don’t let yourself be distracted. Provide them with options. Remind them of all those constraining rules you’re not currently making them follow, and then slip in the quite reasonable request.
Anakin handed over his palm, not meeting her eyes.
It was cut just deep enough to bleed, Obi-Wan noted absently. Really, reckless as Anakin could be, she’d never expect him to cause himself harm on purpose. In fact…
“Is this some cultural thing?” Obi-Wan asked, then winced. Smooth, Kenobi. What was Yoda thinking, making her a Knight so quickly? Although Anakin seemed to have an unenviable talent for inspiring blunders on her part.
Anakin still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I just wanted you to be my sister,” he whispered softly.
And now she wanted to hug him. She contented herself with a hair-ruffle, as there was a table in between them. Although…
“Is this traditionally a surprise on the part of the adoptee?” Obi-Wan asked wryly, inviting him to smile.
Anakin flushed, but kept his eyes on the table.
There was a long and somewhat guilty silence, as often happened when Anakin was reluctant to admit a mistake.
“You know, from a certain point of view, I’m already your sister,” Obi-Wan said at last. Finally, the child was looking at her again.
“Because of Qui-Gon?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan repressed a wince.
“Perhaps in part. But all Jedi are brothers and sisters of the same Temple, Anakin. It’s the only family most have us have ever known. You might have come to us later, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong.”
Anakin didn’t seem to agree fully with this statement. “So Ferus Olin is my brother,” he said flatly.
Obi-Wan repressed a smile. “Yes.”
“And Master Yoda is my brother.”
Obi-wan had to try even harder not to giggle. “Well,” she admitted, “I do tend to think of him as a rather wise and eccentric old uncle, but I imagine I would have the same regard for him if we were blood relatives.”
Anakin stared at her, and through the bond she could feel him re-interpreting and reorganizing what he could recall of her interactions with Master Yoda. There was surprise, and a little amusement, and she sent him the impression of a memory that had been formed when she was very young- barely four- of Yoda holding her hands with his own small claws and peering deep into her mind with smiling eyes.
For a moment she thought he might laugh. Then he looked away again, and bit his lip. “Maybe he does want to be your family,” he acknowledged. “But most of the Masters didn’t want me to be trained at all. They definitely don’t want to be my family. If it’s only from a “certain point of view” then it doesn’t really count- it’s not the same thing as being the actual truth. The truth doesn’t change just because someone different tells it!”
Obi-wan blinked, and took a moment to release her anger. This seemed to be one lesson Anakin was determined not to get. “And when, as in this case, ‘a certain point of view’ means ‘Obi-Wan’s point of view,’ does it still not really count?”
Anakin paused before opening his mouth this time. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin, I do respect your point of view as well. But you must understand that the Jedi are my family, the only family I have ever known, and- from my point of view- you are already part of it.”
“But see, I don’t get it!” Anakin said. “Because you can say Master Windu’s your brother, but you don’t really feel it. And if he were really your brother, it- he’d be your brother.”
Obi-Wan reflected that there could be more than one reason for this sudden offer of kinship. “Like I said, I respect your point of view as well. If you’d feel more comfortable with our relationship if I was acknowledged as your sister in a way you understand more easily, I would be honored to be part of your family.”
Anakin blinked. “Really? Just like that?”
“…Well, I’m keeping my last name,” Obi-wan said, suddenly wary. “And you’re not allowed to fight honor-duels if someone insults me. Or arrange my marriage. Or… well, maybe you should lay out a list of expectations that would traditionally accompany adoption as you know it, because every society does it differently. But legally, it shouldn’t be a problem- if I die, you get all my stuff anyway; I don’t have all that much. And once you’re no longer a minor under Republic law, padawans are traditionally listed as next-of-kin for Medical purposes: the Order still hasn’t been able to convince anyone to introduce legislation acknowledging clan-group structure by the various non-Jedi medical facili-“
“You’re not allowed to die,” Anakin said firmly. “It’s a rule, remember. You made a list of rules.“
“I made a list of rules for you,” Obi-Wan corrected smugly. “See that’s the thing about little brothers and padawans: the older, wiser person gets to create the sensible rules, and the younger person gets to follow them.”
There was a pause. “That’s not funny,” Anakin said softly.
Obi-Wan blanked, unsure what to say in response. Had she pinged Anakin’s sense of unfairness? His lingering memories of slavery? His-
“You are not allowed to die,” Anakin said again.
Oh. Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan winced. “Yes, that was in rather poor taste, wasn’t it.” She sighed, and stood up again to get Anakin some blue milk, which he took for the apology it was. (In some ways, Anakin was very clever.) “Just- know that I’m still the Master and you’re still the Padawan, and I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you, all right?”
Anakin was quiet.
“When I’m old enough,” Anakin whispered into the mug, after a few minutes of mutual silent sipping, “I’ll be able to protect you, too. I’ll be strong enough to stop you from dying.”
Hopefully she wouldn’t need it, Obi-Wan thought wryly. Still, there were worse goals in life.