Becoming Obi-Wan

by Ruth Gifford (telesilla@cyberg8t.com)

Series: Lee Writestuff's Warrior's Heart

Pairing Q/O, O/others, O/Bruck

Rating: NC-17

Warning: barely underage Obi, het sex

Spoilers: Some for TPM, a lot more for the Warrior's Heart Series

Archive: MA, Emu's Bruck Page

Disclaimer: George Lucas owns the characters (even Bruck, I guess, tho Writestuff treats him better, poor bun); Writestuff owns the background around which this story is woven; I own ObiWan's introspection. Isn't it weird that the only one who is making money off this is George? So keep sending Lee the slightly used Qui, and the trussed up Obi-Wan. Since she hasn't asked for him, I'll take Bruck. I have no credit so just send him along and think of it as an act of kindness.

Notes: First and foremost, thank you to Lee for creating a version of Qui, Obi and Bruck that made me want more and for letting me sit and write it. Then she edited it and made it a better story. And my usual thanks go out to one of the bestest beta's ever, Jennifer/Gail. Although this story is woven through almost the entire Warrior's Heart series (and way far before it), I've placed it before after "Birthday Suite" because that's when the end of it takes place.

When it comes to my underage warnings, I do specifically say that Obi is 17 at one point in this story. Also this is not your usual Ruth-type story, whatever that means.

For those who are interested, I actually quoted from: "Rightful Owner," "Crime and Punishment," "Ecstasies," "The Fear Exercises," and "An Accident Waiting."

This is for Lee Writestuff; a small token of appreciation at the hours of reading pleasure you've given so generously.

Yet another tale of the Warrior's Heart series, official order as follows:

"Rightful Owner"
"Crime and Punishment"
"Ecstasies"
"The Anger Exercises"
"The Geometry of Desire"
"But For Grace"
"Give and Take"
"Meditations"
"Master & Apprentice"
"Nomenclature"
"The Fear Exercises"
"Willing Vessels"
"An Accident Waiting"
"Bruck's Turn" (Fic by Pamela)
"The Sweet Science of Bruising"
"From a High Place"
"Artifacts"
"Silk"
"Birthday Suite"
"Becoming Obi-Wan" (Fic by Ruth)
"A Simple Twist of Fate (Not a Songfic)"

Thoughts in */*; telepathy in //.

Summary: Once upon a time a little boy named Ben-Zhao Lars became Obi-Wan Kenobi. Did it happen all at once? And whatever happened to Ben?

"You will take him to the Temple then?" Tsia-Wan Kenobi asked.

"With your permission, and that of his parents, yes we will, Lady Kenobi." Mace Windu wasn't sure how the white haired woman sitting before him made him feel small, but she did. "As House Kenobi has cause to know, he will be well treated there, and allowed to remain in contact with his House."

"And what say you, Daughter?" the matriarch asked the younger woman in the room.

"It is a great honor, Mother, Master Windu. We," her gesture included her silent husband, "will give permission, although we will miss our son."

"Hmpf," the old woman snorted at her daughter's formality. She looked at the boy that sat calmly on the floor.

He looked like he was following the progress of a small spider as it climbed diligently over one of the floor mats, but Mace could see the blank and inward stare that most would think made the child look simple. To a Jedi, the inward stare spoke of someone focusing on the Force inside them.

The tall Jedi Master knelt and waited for the child to become aware of his surroundings again. When he did, the boy looked up at the Jedi, unafraid.

"What do you see, Ben?" Mace asked.

"Big place," the little boy replied. "Obi-Wan. I saw him in the big place."

A rustle beside Mace warned him as the boy's mother knelt next to him and spoke.

"Are you truly to become Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ben-Zhao Lars?" she asked quietly, her voice even more formal. This Mace knew was part of an ancient ritual, dating back over a hundred generations in this family.

The boy nodded and, when his father knelt down as well, Mace withdrew.

"Have they another child, Lady?" he asked the old woman quietly.

"Yes," she replied, "and they will need him now, I think."

Later that afternoon, Mace stood in the House chapel and swore the oaths that would allow him to leave with this child.

"I, Master Mace Windu of the Order of the Jedi, do promise House Kenobi that the Jedi shall raise this child. We shall be as his mother and father and House, and we will teach him the Way of the Force and the Path of the Light."

"This do we hear, nor fail to remember," Lady Kenobi replied. "On thee, Son of my Daughter, I bestow a new name, that the memory of the first Jedi Kenobi not be forgotten. Ben-Zhao Lars, thou art now Obi-Wan Kenobi, ninetieth Initiate of House Kenobi. Bear the name with all due respect and humility, and learn thou the Way of the Force and the Path of the Light."

"I will, Me-Ma," the boy said from his place in Mace's arms. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. That's me now."

From Obi-Wan's Journal (age 20)

I was born Ben-Zhao Lars, but I must confess that I barely remember ever being called that. Sometimes in dreams it comes to me as I recall the screen painted with soft-colored rilth flowers that stood next to my childhood bed. There are also nights when my mind's time sense sends me back to the House chapel, with its incense and golden statues. I usually laugh when I wake up. My Master's lover holding the boy who would not supplant him, but would someday settle into the same arms he so loved at that time.

If I find myself in a contemplative frame of mind when I wake from dreams of being Ben, or being told I no longer was Ben, I sit and brood a while. How much of me, I wonder, is Ben? Is any of me Ben? My parents call me Obi-Wan and even my brother stopped calling me Ben before I received letters and not voice tapes from him. My House trust fund is in the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi, which could be awkward if it weren't for the fact that I'm the first Obi-Wan in two generations and the last one died on a mission as a Padawan.

Temple history tells me that there have been many times when there were two (and at one point three) Obi-Wans in the Order at the same time. How strange, I wonder what they all called each other? And if House rank mattered at all to them. Probably not, as we Jedi are not encouraged to remain aware of who we were before we became part of the Order. My name, alas, will not allow me to forget.

"Obi-Wan?" the fish girl asked, mangling the pronunciation a bit. "That's a hard name."

"What's yours?" Obi-Wan asked curiously. He liked this girl with her simple straightforward attitude.

"Bant. Just Bant."

That is easy," he replied. "But don't you have a House name? I mean, my full name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Not all people come from worlds with Houses, Obi-Wan," Master Drusha replied, "and there are many different naming practices on different worlds. Your name is actually unusual here as it is not your birth name."

"It's not?" a dark skinned little girl asked.

"No," Obi-Wan replied. "Before I came to the Temple last year my name was Ben-Zhao Lars. But every Kenobi that comes to the temple is named Obi-Wan. That's what Momma told me."

"Obi-Wan," the dark girl tried and shook her head. "Ow."

What?" Bant asked.

"Ow. It hurts just to say his name. Can I just call you Ow?"

"What am I supposed to call you?" Obi-Wan asked politely.

"Tianna," she replied. "Tianna Iolan, but everyone in my family is an Iolan."

"That's hard too, you know," Obi-Wan said seriously. "Can I call you Ti?"

"Watch where you're going Oafy-Wan!"

"You gonna eat that last piece of bread, Obi-Wan?"

"Are you sure sneaking in here is a good idea, Ow?"

"Obi-Wan, stop mooning over him, it's not good for you. Masters choose for their own reasons and he lost a Padawan to the Dark.

"Obi-Wan, he may not want another padawan ever again.

"Obi-Wan?! Are you listening to me?"

"I Qui-Gon Jinn, jedi Master Third Degree, do take as my Padawan Learner Ben-Zhao Lars, also known as Obi-Wan Kenobi, ninetieth initiate of House Kenobi . . ."

"I Obi-Wan Kenobi, born Ben-Zhao Lars, ninetieth initiate of House Kenobi, accept Qui-Gon Jinn as my Master . . ."

From Obi-Wan's Journal (age 20)

It seemed so gradual as an Initiate and even in my first years as a Padawan. I lost more and more of Ben's memories and became more and more Obi-Wan. Few people even knew I'd ever had another name. It did not bother me much. There would be odd times however, when, hovering on the edge of waking, I longed to be called Ben and yearned to be that carefree child, whose visions were merely dreams and who did not have to strive so hard at being Obi-Wan.

During the year when I fought with Bruck for the attention of any Master who looked our way, and certainly for the attention of one Master Qui-Gon Jinn, there were days I actively loathed the name that made me so desperate. Not to mention that it provided my enemy with such a ridiculous nickname for me.

Strangely enough I did not chose to return to Dannora on being assigned to Bandomeer. I knew that I always had a home, but I also knew somehow, as I was far from proficient in reading the time paths my dreams showed me, that the Force and the Jedi were not done with me. I was right, and on exchanging vows with my Master, I took another step away from Ben-Zhao.

"May I ask a question, My Master?"

"Yes Padawan?

Obi-Wan smiled at his Master and settled down on their couch. "Why wasn't your name changed when you became a Jedi? Does your House not have that tradition?"

Qui-Gon sighed very faintly and looked at the lean form of his young padawan. Obi-Wan had a way of asking him difficult questions without knowing that they were difficult questions. And his wording . . . In the past few years, Qui-Gon had often thought of his padawan as being an old Master in a boy's body, so formal was he.

"You know of my House, Padawan?"

"Yes Master, I looked it up."

"And?"

"House Jinn," Obi-Wan replied instantly in the a dry voice of a teaching tape, "is one of the great Dannoran ranching Houses and is situated northeast of the great Danjii steppe country. The House is famous for its breeding stock, and the grapes grown on the edges of the steppes, which the House makes into several noted varietals." He glanced at his Master. "There's a lot more."

"But none of the important things that only another Dannoran would know. Obi-Wan, House Kenobi is one of the Ruling Houses. Your grandmother sits on the Narai-hai and the Narai-ji House Jinn . . . well, they're on the Narai-hai, but never on the Narai-ji. They have great wealth, in fact, they may be wealthier than your own House, but they lack status. It has ever been so."

Qui-Gon could hear the distancing formality in his voice, and realized that Obi-Wan did not necessarily speak like a Naraita. It was just that the boy had grown up in a Dannoran Great House. He was a son of entitlement and that sense of place gave him his seriousness, his utterly polished and superb accent, and his overwhelming need to succeed the high expectations placed on him with his name.

"You keep saying 'they,'" Obi-Wan said softly.

Qui-Gon nodded. "The Jinn do not leave home to become Jedi. They don't leave the House to become anything. Their House motto is: 'From the Land, the House.'" He shrugged slightly before continuing.

"When I was chosen during a Search, I was allowed to go; the House knew well enough of what happens when Force-sensitives are left untrained. When Master Yoda took me as his Padawan, my father, who was Head of the House, asked me if I would stay with the Jedi or return to the House. It was made clear to me then that if I stayed here, at the Temple, I would be cut off. But I couldn't imagine wanting anything more than to learn from Yoda and become a Jedi Knight. I chose to remain at the Temple.

"Shortly after I was knighted, I was called back to Dannora. The Council gave its permission because, as I discovered later, this was part of the bargain between the Jedi and House Jinn. I had to come before my father, learn of my place and privileges, and then formally renounce any right and claims I had with or over, House Jinn. This was truly serious, Obi-Wan. I was the oldest child and my father was not a young man."

"Yet you left," Obi-wan said, eyes wide. "How could your House, your own father ask that decision of you? Even my children, if I ever have any, will take my place in the succession, and will be raised in my House."

"Unlike your own house, the Jinn are not so far from their roots in the warrior caste that they feel comfortable with a warrior of their own blood in their midst, whether a Jedi or no. And House built on the riches of land needs caretakers who live on that land." He gave a faintly bitter half snort. "Check ancient history and you'll see the Jinn as part of the most conservative of parties, and among the purists every time.

"During my time at the House after my knighting, I was ritually ignored by all but select tutors and teaching droids. They taught me the House lore, history and ritual, so that, by immersing myself in our culture, I could see the full magnitude of what I was giving up. Then I was asked to renounce or accept my place in the House. When I renounced all rights and titles, I was called to witness my brother's oath-taking as Heir to the House. My father was . . . disappointed, and angry. My family has not communicated with me once since then. I honestly believe no one there knows anything of me. I wonder what they'd think of my being the Master to a Kenobi?"

"Lady Kenobi told me, when you first chose me as your Padawan, that you were a man of a House with strong principles."

"Your grandmother is known for her tact."

Obi-Wan nodded. "She and Mother also said that you are welcome in our House and will be treated with the respect the Kenobi owe such a teacher. Now that you've told me this, I think they'd make you family if Grandmother didn't worry about annoying the Jinn." He made a face, the first sign of boyishness he'd displayed during the careful conversation. "I'm glad I don't ever have to deal with House politics."

"And are you glad to be the Obi-Wan of your generation? I have long thought that to put such on emphasis on the name causes a lack of emphasis on the one who holds it."

"I think I've pretty much gotten over that, my Master." A small smile of self-deprecation. "I barely remember being Ben and going through the name change. Did you know that Master Windu was part of the Search that found me?"

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"No, no, Obi-Wan. You keep turning before you've shifted your weight onto the correct foot. If I were to get into that position, like this, where would you strike?"

"That's kind of hard Master, I see so many places you are vulnerable. I would probably try for a disarming blow, or even power the saber down and conk you on the head with it."

"Remember Obi-Wan, you must see yourself as the enemy sees you."

Obi-Wan stared at the bodies in front of himself and his master. Three toughs: two Human, and one Wookie, all of whom had come toward them with every intention of dealing out death. And instead, death had been dealt to them, here on a hot, muggy street on Ribanna. Obi-Wan had killed the Wookie as the assassin had attempted to stab his Master through the ribs.

"You have done well, my Padawan," Qui-Gon now said in great formality.

"But I killed, my Master." Obi-Wan tried to curb his queasy stomach as his Master led him back to their temporary dwelling. "He died because I sliced his head off with my saber." He gulped in the cooler air of their rooms and tried to ignore the pounding headache that threatened.

"And you will do so again, Padawan. Sometimes we have no choice."

"But that doesn't make it right!"

"Nothing ever makes it right. Not doing it tomorrow or having it happen ten years from now. "

"I think I'm gonna be . . ."

Steady hands guided him, just in the nick of time, to the 'fresher. As he emptied his stomach, he was pathetically grateful for the warm bulk of Qui-Gon behind him, silent but understanding.

"It never gets easier?" he asked when he had finally finished and Qui-Gon had pulled him into his Master's lap.

"No, but your control over your stomach eventually gets better." Qui-Gon held him close for a long moment. "Oh Padawan, I wish I could have protected you from this. I truly do, my Obi-Wan."

She was lean and still soft in all the right places. She was beautiful, with tight blue curly hair and milk white skin and otherworldly mist grey eyes. And she was a knight, easily seven years older than he was. Obi-Wan didn't mind the age difference as long as Tehethla didn't. He could tell that she thought him attractive and interesting and didn't mind his lack of knowledge in matters of love.

He was tentative at first, not wishing to hurt her, but it soon became clear that he could tell where she liked to be touched and how much pressure he should apply. Obi-Wan liked seeing the paths of energy mapped out across her white skin, each nexus a place to touch or lick or nibble. Without even thinking that he'd once considered the act to be a little weird, he happily buried his face between her legs and tasted her sharp, sweet taste.

She came twice from that alone and he was just as pleased to be urged upward and to feel her hand on him, fondling him intimately before she guided his cock inside her and they both sighed happily.

"Oh yes, that's it," she murmured a little hoarsely as he began to thrust gently inside her. "Oh that's good, now just a bit harder."

"Oh gods," he mumbled, sinking into her heat and wet warmth and never wanting to leave. "So good, so beautiful . . ."

"Harder, don't you want more?"

"Yesss, oh yess" he hissed and began to plunge into her, feeling her energy spiral upwards and outwards, her shields brushing against his.

"Oh yes!" she yelled. "That's what I want . . . need . . . oh Goddess . . . yes more now . . . OH OBI-WAN!!!"

Later as she drifted toward sleep, Obi-Wan smiled to himself. 17 years old and virgin no more.

"Sometimes, Obi-Wan, you seem more solemn than most old men I've met. Would it hurt so much to act your age now and then, Padawan?

"Yes! That's the trick to countering that move. Oh, well done indeed, Obi-Wan"

"Thank . . . you . . .Master." He was breathless from the work, yet Qui-Gon's praise made him feel as if he could go three or four more rounds.

"Oh! Always swore you had a mouth to die for, but . . . oh stars above, Obi-Wan! So good . . . so hot . . . so good . . ."

"Confer on you the rank and title of Senior Padawan, the council does, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"I knew you'd make Senior soon, Kenobi!" A sly sweet smile. "Wanna come up to my place to celebrate. I like what I've seen in the changing rooms, Obi-Wan. Does it get even bigger?"

"While I understand that you have no curfew and that you naturally wish to be with your friends in the evening, you need to learn more about controlling your response to certain substances, Padawan. Sometime intoxicants can be a diplomat's friend, but they are more often his enemy. Obi-Wan, don't look so hurt, this isn't anything unusual for a padawan your age to have to deal with."

"Obi-Wan, it's so good to see you and your Master! You haven't been home in years!"

"Blame me for that, Lady Lars. I keep him too busy."

"Nonsense, Master Qui-Gon. We know that being a Jedi involves a great deal of work and training. I hope Obi-Wan is proving a good student."

"He is a credit to his name, Lady."

"Good. Now Obi-Wan, you'll need to be at the reception for Beru tomorrow. As your brother's Second, you'll need to spend some time getting to know her."

"I don't think that will be too difficult Mo . . . Lady."

Later:

"Is it hard to come back, Padawan?"

"Not really. I really like seeing Owen and the family. It's just . . . Well, I wonder Master."

"Wonder what, Padawan?"

"If I had stayed Ben, this would have been my life. Being Second to my brother and probably ending up as manager to one of the big Kenobi concerns. I'd have to marry a girl from one of the Houses in our "circle" and I'd live to support my family and my House."

"Would that be so onerous?"

"No I guess not. This is just another way of seeing how far I've come from being Ben-Zhao."

"Padawan, I for one have so many reasons to be grateful to Mace for discovering you, and grateful to your House for their ability to let you go and still leave you with a place to come home to."

But that's just it, master. Home is where you are, not this place where I can't even call my mother "Mother.

"Oh I appreciate it Master. I just hope it doesn't . . . open old scars."

"Not at all, Obi-Wan, not at all."

"This one's a fine specimen himself. Why don't you sell him?"

"The offer was made but this one's not for sale. I've grown rather attached to him. However someone like him wouldn't be amiss. What stock do you have?"

Later:

"You should know, Padawan, that I wanted very badly to kill that slaver for humiliating you as he did. Then I realized that my treatment of you during this mission has not been very much superior to it, and I'm not at all certain--"

"Master, you were--"

"Let me finish, Padawan. I'm not at all certain that most of what I did to you was necessary. I thought it would be best if we maintained our roles throughout the mission, even in private, but now that seems somewhat extreme to me. I know it was very hard on you--I was very hard on you--and I want you to know that your conduct was quite extraordinary throughout. I doubt many others would have held up as you did, especially not tonight.

"You have made me proud, Padawan, and you made me ashamed of myself. I aoplogize for hurting you and I know I have. You must know that you mean a good deal to me, not just as my padawan, but as my friend. I am sorry, Obi-Wan."

"We both did what we had to, Master. No one's to blame. I'm glad it's over though."

"And I, Padawan.

"Obi-Wan, when MalDurzi was . . . touching you, what were you thinking? You were so calm."

"I was doing the third Meditation, Master. There is no passion, there is serenity."

"I was impressed by your control."

"Thank you, Master."

From Obi-Wan's Journal (age 20)

I think that the only thing that saved my sanity and enabled me to endure my Master's distance and harshness during our mission to the Outer Rim for the Sentient's Rights Subcommittee was the fact that he never used my name in public. It was always "boy this" and "you that." If he'd called me Obi-Wan I would have cried or flung myself at him or tried to escape.

Here, on the way back, I can muse about how much I want him (o, master mine, if you only knew how much you disturb your student's rest), how much I wish he'd been shoving his fingers in me, and most of all the tiny kindness regarding my name, which I didn't notice at the time.

No, Obi-Wan is not Ben-Zhao, who would be working for one of House Kenobi's concerns and looking for a proper bride. Neither, however, is Obi-Wan a slave.

"Oafy-Wan, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Explain yourself, Obi-Wan!"

"I have little to say, Master. I, I was angry and I used the Force to shove Bruck away, into the wall. I acted foolishly and in anger, without thought.

They stayed that way for long moments, stupefied, rocking a little together without realizing it. Finally, it was too much for Qui-Gon and he groaned and ground against his lover. "Obi-Wan . . . Please."

From Obi-Wan's Journal (age 20) Ben is gone now. He faded into the mist, banished by the power of a name spoken at the right time. And now I can never be him or he me. Ben would never have killed. Ben wouldn't have been able to handle the mission to the Outer Rim. And Ben wouldn't have become the lover of Qui-Gon Jinn.

He calls me "Love" a lot, and I like it. But when, that one morning, he called me Obi-Wan, and then came as close as he possibly could to begging for more of what I was doing to him, I truly became Obi-Wan. The Name does not make me who I am; his love, our love, makes me who I am. And he loves Obi-Wan, the Jedi.

"Kenobi! Haven't you got a nickname shorter than three syllables that doesn't mean 'pale'? 'Obi-Wan' is too much to yell when I come."

"My birthname is Ben. Will that do?"

"Serenity, Obi-Wan. Passion at one end and serenity at the other. Bring them both together in the moment."

"Yes! Fuck me, Ben. C'mon, please . . . All I've been able to think about . . . Ahhh!"

From Obi-Wan's Journal (age 23)

Having worried about my names for so long, it was such a relief t stop thinking about it. Qui made me Obi-Wan, in a very real way, and he calls out my name in passion and in friendliness, in comfort and in correction. Can I separate myself from who I am and assign each piece a name? This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Padawan, and that is Ben-Zhao Lars, devoted member of House Kenobi. No, that never really worked unless I was feeling really sorry for myself. And now, when I am as far as possible from feeling sorry for myself, Ben is back and has a place in this life too.

Yesterday was my birthday. My two lovers fucked me into a damp dishrag of a Padawan, and I still shiver in stunned amazement when I think about them. Two lovers, two beautiful lovers, and they each love me enough to share me. Me, Obi-Wan . . .

No they don't both love Obi-Wan. Qui loves Obi-Wan, Bruck loves Ben. But are Ben and Obi-Wan so different? This strikes me as a somewhat silly question. I mean, I am myself and the name means nothing really. Oh yes the Kenobi name honors an extremely distant relative and I intend to do all I can to live up to it. The Lars name is my close family and I know they love me. But really, I don't change in any way when I think of myself as Ben instead of Obi-Wan. Or do I? Qui once said that I act too old for my age. I guess I do, the result of early impression and my need to live up to my Master's reputation will do that to a person.

I think it's mostly a matter of how I see myself age-wise and sexually. Obi-Wan is discreet with his lover; no embarrassing public displays of affection, no gossip told to friends. In short, Obi-Wan is mature about love, too mature for his age.

Now Ben, on the other hand, not only engages in plenty of exuberant public displays of affection, but he also tends to feel before he thinks. Obi-Wan would not be caught dead in a sex club, Ben's been to one twice and would go more often if he and his lover could afford it. Gods, Ben got fucked in an alleyway outside a club last night. Obi-Wan would have died of a bad case of nerves and embarrassment.

Then again Obi-Wan likes to tell his lover about Ben's adventures. And Qui likes it too, when I told him about the alleyway and how Bruck shoved me up against his door so he could blow me, it damn well pushed him right over the edge. And am I mistaken, or do Qui's eyes show more than a hint of interest when hearing my sordid stories about Bruck and Ben?

Ben and Obi-Wan. Two different names. Two different parts of a whole. Both of them me, and, now, neither of them able to live without the other. I suppose everyone has some way to deal with the disparate parts of themselves. Maybe I truly am lucky. I have a name for both.

I have become Obi-Wan. I have been Ben all along.

END