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He and Qui-Gon never talk about it.
Obi-Wan is 16 when he spends 8 and a half months of his life in practical isolation while Qui-Gon finishes their mission. Obi-Wan fights the urge to claw his way out of his skin as his belly expands, distorts beyond his recognition. He craves home. Craves the time before it became evident just how far Qui-Gon would go to follow the will of the force.
The force can’t possibly have ordained this .
He births the babe as he is bid by his master. It's awful and bloody and nothing will ever be the same again. Obi-Wan sobs for hours in the midwife's birthing suite as his body works against his mind. He can feel himself tearing as Qui-Gon’s spawn tears its way out of him. The moment he enters the world, he knows the boy will be an alpha.
He can't know that. The boy won't present until late into his teens, but Obi-Wan knows . He can see him forming, can catch a glimpse of the man he will become.
The midwife severs the umbilical cord, wipes him down, and hands him off to his father . Qui-Gon cradles the child, holding him gently, like he’s something precious. Obi-Wan loathes him, hates them both . Qui-Gon has never looked at him like that, has never looked at Obi-Wan like he's someone worth protecting.
“He needs to eat,” Qui-Gon says. His eyes are focused on Obi-Wan now.
“Get the fuck away from me,” Obi-Wan grinds out, his arms coming up to shield his engorged chest.
“He needs to eat, Obi-Wan. He'll die if he doesn't.” Qui-Gon says it like it’s simple, like Obi-Wan is the one being difficult.
“Then feed him yourself!” Obi-Wan rages.
Qui-Gon ignores him. He pries Obi-Wan’s arms apart and presses the babe to his chest, until Obi-Wan finally gives out. Obi-Wan sobs, but raises his arms to cradle the child. The baby mouths against him for a few moments before he latches. Obi-Wan hiccups a wince. It’s a strange sensation. He doesn't look at the child. He can't.
Qui-Gon, however, can't take his eyes off him. He speaks gently to the child as he nurses. Obi-Wan closes his eyes and lets his mind drift from his body. He waits until the baby releases him to hand him over.
“You need to rest,” the midwife says quietly. Obi-Wan had forgotten she was there. He nods, closes his eyes, and prays for death.
…
“Where's the child?” Obi-Wan asks. He’s back on his feet, dressed to return to the temple.
“Do you care?” Qui-Gon says. Obi-Wan wants to tear out his throat for having the audacity to ask. When has he ever been interested in what Obi-Wan cared about?
“I suppose I don't,” he says, and he walks away. He only needs to survive Qui-Gon until he becomes a knight. Then, he’ll never have to speak to him again.
…
Obi-Wan is 25 when Qui-Gon brings him a boy that shines like the sun, so bright it's almost blinding.
“This is Anakin,” Qui-Gon says, and the fondness in his voice stops Obi-Wan cold.
No.
It can’t be.
Obi-Wan doesn't remember talking to the council. The entire time, he feels like he's going to puke. He can’t look at the child. He won’t. Qui-Gon couldn’t be this cruel—
Of course, he could. There was a time he thought Qui-Gon would never harm him. He was proven wrong then too.
“Obi-Wan?” Mace is touching his arm. The others have cleared out of the council chamber and there's concern etched onto his face. “Everything will be all right. We'll sort this out,” he promises.
Sort it out? There's no sorting this out. That boy—that boy is—
…
Qui-Gon is dead.
Obi-Wan wants to believe it's justice, but, in reality, it's just one more thing.
“So, I stay with you now?”
Obi-Wan finally looks at him. Clear blue eyes, a cherubic face, and golden blonde tresses. Obi-Wan sees none of himself. Maybe it's not true. ‘ This is not my son ,’ he thinks. He thinks it over and over again until he can almost believe it's true.
“Yes,” he says, “you're going to stay with me.”
And Obi-Wan tries. He falls short. There are days when he can be an active and present master and days where he falls apart. He keeps it from Anakin as best he can, passes him off to Quin while he tries to pull himself back together.
And Anakin…Anakin flourishes. Sure, some days are harder than others. Anakin grows tall and broad. He’s every bit a pre-presentation alpha. Some days, Obi-Wan’s not sure who he's looking at—startles at the boy’s the man's presence.
“Master?” Anakin says, but there’s worry in his voice. His brows are furrowed, his pretty face twisted in concern. “Master, are you okay? Cody says you haven’t been like yourself all day.”
It’s the anniversary. Obi-Wan hasn’t been able to think about anything other than the worst moment of his life all day.
“Oh,” he says softly. “I’m afraid I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather, dear heart. I’ll give my apologies to Cody in the morning, but thank you for checking on me.” He grants his former padawan a shaky smile.
“Obi-Wan, you never get sick,” Anakin says, all in a rush. He presses the back of his flesh hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot, but what do I know? How could you tell I had a fever when I was little?”
Obi-Wan can’t help but laugh. “It’s not a fever, padawan, but your concern truly moves me. It seems you learned something from me after all.”
Anakin scowls at him. “Don’t try to distract me, master. How long have you been sick? Cody made it sound like it was only today, but I know you. You’ve probably been sick for weeks!”
This boy , Obi-Wan thinks. This man, he should say. Anakin has still yet to present but Obi-Wan has always known. He’s an alpha through and through. Protective of the meager little pack Obi-Wan has somehow found himself a part of.
“Really, Anakin, it’s just a stomach bug. A little queasiness. I promise I’m okay. Just a rough day.”
Anakin doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t push.
Obi-Wan is grateful. How would he even begin to explain?
….
Standing across from Anakin on Mustafar—it's the first time he sees himself reflected. Anakin’s eyes are gold but Obi-Wan sees himself in their shape. In the cut of Anakin’s cheeks. The purse of his lips.
Anakin is screaming, madness clear in his gaze as he raves about peace, freedom, and security like he has any idea what those words mean.
Obi-Wan raises his saber.
He knows. He can admit it now. This boy was forced upon him like a curse. Like a plague. This boy who took everything.
“I knew you would be the death of me,” he snarls, and he’s furious there are tears in his eyes. Anakin has taken so much. He doesn’t deserve Obi-Wan’s tears. “After you tore your way out of me, I knew.”
Anakin's brow furrows, confusion spilling out into the force. It’s the first thing that’s penetrated his rage since Obi-Wan arrived on Mustafar. Obi-Wan sees it in a gaze that mirrors his own.
“A parasite!” He shouts, “a parasite that took the end of my childhood, my adulthood, my family . All you've ever known how to do is take !”
Anakin is shaking his head and the confusion is replaced with blinding hot fury .
“ Liar !” He screams, and Obi-Wan nearly buckles as Anakin’s saber slams into his own. They dance, avoiding lava and each other as they both go for the kill—
“Liar? All I've ever done is be honest with you. I hoped. I prayed that it wasn't you, but I can no longer deny—”
“Stop fucking talking —”
Anakin is crying now, tears glimmering down his cheeks. I
“But I always knew! You destroyed me when you were born, and look at you now! Absolutely ruinous —”
“Stop it!” Anakin screams.
“And I loved you anyway!” Obi-Wan gasps. “After everything you took from me, I loved you. Even now, after all the horror you've wrought, I love you still. Is this a mother's curse?”
“ Enough !” Anakin wails, and Obi-Wan isn't surprised to be thrown. He isn't surprised when his tunic catches fire, and his skin burns. He isn't surprised to see Anakin standing over him, bleeding nothing but rage into the force.
Obi-Wan will die like his people.
There is peace in the force.
“Do it,” he croaks and the fire is spreading. Up his torso. Down his legs. “Put me out of my misery.”
The fire is fading.
Or maybe that's him. Maybe peace has finally come.
“You will answer for this,” he hears Anakin say.
‘I have said all there is to say, ’ Obi-Wan thinks. He closes his eyes.
….
He is alone when he wakes. He’s lying in a bed in an unfamiliar room. There are bandages covering his arms, his torso, his legs. He can smell bacta.
“Welcome back, your grace.” Not as alone as he thought then. A medical droid rolls closer to the bed. “All is well in the Empire. The Emperor has ensured your safety. You should return to sleep.”
The Empire.
Anakin has delivered him to Palpatine after all. He feels a prick at his neck, and darkness swallows him again.
…
When he wakes again, the bandages are gone. Someone has dressed him in rich fabrics.
Anakin is standing near the window, looking out into the distance. He's dressed richly in dark fabrics embroidered with golden threads. There's a golden circlet on his head, nestled in his curls like it’s always been there.
“Get up,” he commands. “The ceremony's in two hours, and they haven't even done your hair.”
“Anakin—”
“Do as I say, mother .” It's snarled at him, Anakin's lip curling, baring almost sharpened teeth.
Obi-Wan takes a breath. “Shmi Skywalker was your mother, Anakin. I only birthed you.”
Anakin turns sharply. “And then you killed her! Is that why you left her to die? So you could have me all to yourself?” Anakin shakes his head. “No, then you wouldn't have left me a slave.”
“Qui-Gon—”
“Don't talk about him! You let him take me! You left me! That was you, mother . If you’d had the chance, you would've left me again. Left me to die.”
Obi-Wan cannot argue. He knows it’s true.
“See how I didn't leave you? But it's okay, mother . I'll make sure you can never leave me again.” Anakin burns with promise in the force. Obi-Wan knows his fate is sealed.
…
He doesn't realize what's happening until they place the veil on his head.
Your grace, the servants said. Palpatine is dead, they whisper. Killed by the apprentice, he’d groomed for so long.
If Anakin is the Emperor–
No.
No no no no.
There are people staring. The hall is full of people. Disgraced senators, captured Jedi clapped in force-suppressing chains, and Emipire loyalists all watching with trepidation as Obi-Wan is marched down the aisle by clone soldiers. He can’t feel them, each soldier a strange void in the force. He wonders if one of them is Cody. The hall is silent, almost as if everyone present knows they are witnessing something unholy. A tragedy.
Obi-Wan isn’t to speak at all. The officiant and Anakin do all the talking as Obi-Wan’s life is signed away.
“I do. He does,” Anakin says when asked before kissing Obi-Waempin soundly.
There is no applause, only horror.
…
Obi-Wan is pregnant within a month of their nuptials. A sign of the Emperor's strength and fertility. A sign of rebirth for their burgeoning Empire.
Obi-Wan is standing at the windowsill, looking out at the land down below, when he feels a presence at his back.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, but Qui-Gon has never been one to listen to anyone but the force.
“Obi-Wan,” he says, and his voice serene. “I see what the force was telling me. I see it clearly now.” He eyes Obi-Wan’s middle expectantly.
“You didn’t before?” Obi-Wan’s hand finds his stomach, covering it protectively.
“I saw enough. And now it is clear. You’ve done as you were meant to do.” Qui-Gon’s glowing form fades away, leaving Obi-Wan adrift.
This can’t be what the force wanted.
And yet it is what is.