Obi-Wan Kenobi had grown accustomed to his solitary life on Tatooine, watching over the boy from afar. He kept his interactions with the small family limited, for their safety of course. And because Owen clearly continued to blame him for Anakin’s death. However, he was grateful for their willingness to supply him with moisture from their farm. He never told the Lars family what he was using so much of it for, and they never asked. Much of his time was spent listening for rumors at some of the local dives and meditating in solitude. Part of his meditation ritual was spent tending to his private crop. He watered his plants with care, checked their leaves for signs of damage or growth, and murmured to the softly, almost absent-mindedly. This process grounded him, and he was grateful for it.
Of course, he also enjoyed the harvest. As the years passed and he settled into his routine on the sandy planet, Obi-Wan grew to find some small amount of peace as he learned how to use the Marcan herb. At first, he simply smoked it, like anyone else would. He found the sensation relaxing. Were the Jedi Order still around, he would not possibly have allowed himself to indulge. But as the years passed and the boy grew older and continued to live in safety, Obi-Wan felt that he could relax. A little.
One evening, as Obi-Wan was lighting up, he was startled by someone walking into his home.
“I hope you don’t mind that I let mys — oh!” It was Beru Lars. Obi-Wan froze for a second, instantly panicking. What would she think?
“I’m terribly sorry, Beru, I completely forgot that you were coming by today. Please do come in,” Obi-Wan stuttered as he went about trying to put his paraphernalia away and clearing some counter space for the bottles Beru brought. He avoided eye contact for far too long, but when he looked up, he was surprised.
The corners of Beru’s eyes crinkled with a deep smile. Obi-Wan was struck by the sincerity in her expression. Wordlessly, she placed the bottles on the space Obi-Wan had cleared and began to leave. Before exiting the doorway, she turned back to him. “You know, Ben,” she said, smirking now, “It’s been a while, but I did have my own time experimenting with that particular herb, back in my restaurant days. Have fun tonight. Don’t eat too much!”
Obi-Wan could only stare in stunned silence. Before Beru was completely out of earshot, he managed to gather a small amount of his composure and call after her. “You know, you’re more than welcome, if you ever, that is, if you’d like to — ” He was cut off by an unexpected giggle. He tried to remember if he’d ever heard Beru giggle before.
“Thanks, Ben. I’ll let you know. For now, I’ve got to get back to the boys.”
Obi-Wan mentally kicked himself as he watched her retreat. Was he this awkward in the heyday of the Jedi Order? Perhaps solitude did not agree with him as he thought it did. He sighed and returned to the kitchen, picking up his pipe and deciding to put the bottles away in the morning.
~~~
Two weeks later, Obi-Wan was meditating when he heard a knock at the door. He glanced up to see Beru waving at him through the window. The awkwardness of the last time he saw her crept back into the center of his bones, and he jumped up, maybe a little too fast, to answer the door. He helped her bring the bottles in.
“Not partaking tonight, are we?”
Obi-Wan blushed because he thought he was being teased, and he prepared to be apologetic for that previous night again. Beru kept speaking before Obi-Wan could respond.
“That’s a shame. Because I brought these.” She was holding up a container of cookies.
Obi-Wan surprised himself with his laughter. He invited her to sit as he retrieved some herb and rolling papers. He felt extremely formal at first, internally ridiculing himself for having any sense of formality during a smoke session of all things. But as the night went on, he relaxed, and their conversation flowed. She asked him questions about his plants, and he was surprised about how much she knew. He asked her questions about her restaurant days, and a fast friendship was born.
That night, as he watched to make sure she made it safely to her home, Obi-Wan felt less alone on the sandy planet.
~~~
They never had a conversation about it, but their meetings became a regular occurrence. Beru would come delivering moisture and baked goods, and Obi-Wan produced the herb and environment. Mondays were Moisture & Macan Herb days. Obi-Wan felt himself becoming Ben.
Some days their conversations were light-hearted and superficial. Beru talked about behind-the-scenes adventures in the food service industry as Ben listened on in surprise and sometimes disgust. Ben talked about the glory days of the Jedi Order as though they were fairytales from another life. Other days, their conversations were saturated in regrets from the past. Beru talked about her forgotten dreams as a restaurateur and her occasional disappointment in settling down. Ben talked about Satine, and though he never said his name, hinted at his regrets about Anakin. Some days their conversations were full of laughter, and some days they were full of tears.
One day, Beru leaned back and said, “You know, you can do more than smoke it, right?”
Ben simply stared in response.
That day, Beru taught Ben about all the ways Marcan herb (and leftovers from smoking) can be used in cooking. He was consistently astounded by the intellectual depths of his friend. The next time they met, he tried to share some of his cooking with Beru.
Beru said, “You’ll get there with practice,” before politely leaving the rest of the wafer on her plate.
~~~
This ritual occurred so frequently that Ben lost track of how long they’d been meeting. It felt like this had been a constant in his life for many years. Beru no longer knocked before entering. She simply let herself in, and if Ben was out for one reason or another, she would make herself at home and wait.
One night they were laughing particularly hard at the small objects Ben was zooming around the room with the Force when their reverie was interrupted by Ben’s door being kicked in. In an instant, Ben was on his feet, lightsaber in hand, weapon pointed at the intruder. He immediately retracted his saber when he saw that this intruder was none other than Owen Lars.
Owen’s face was purple and contorted with rage. “So is this where you’ve been going?” he screamed at Beru. “Consorting with this-this-this JEDI!”
“Consorting?!” Beru stepped in between her husband and Ben as Ben fell back. “Now what in the hell has gotten into your head, Owen Lars?”
“You want to step out on this marriage? FINE! But at least have the decency to stay away from this destructive maniac who is directly responsible for my stepbrother’s DEATH!”
The silence hung thick and heavy in the air before it was broken by the sound of both Beru and Ben’s laughter. Owen somehow turned a deeper shade of purple. For a moment, Ben feared that the man would pass out.
“Step out… on this marriage…?” Beru managed to choke out between giggles.
“I’m too high for this shit,” Ben said, stepping out through the back door. “I’ll let you handle this, Ber.”
Beru led Owen to the middle of the room, showing him the herb scattered on the table. Ben heard her start explaining what they were doing as he walked several feet away from the building, chuckling to himself. He wondered what Satine would think of this. He could hear the volume of the conversation rise and fall, but the one phrase he heard clearly was “ALLOW me? Oh, I’ll tell you ONE thing, mister…” Ben chose to move a few feet farther.
After some time, Ben realized it was quiet and returned to his home. He found Beru, but no Owen. “What did you do with the body?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow and failing to hide a smirk.
Beru lit a cigarette. “You don’t want to know.”
Ben wondered if this was the last time he would get to see his friend. The following Monday, he was overjoyed at the usual sound of her opening the door.
~~~
Time passed. Owen became more accepting of Ben’s friendship with Beru. Ben became grayer. Luke became taller. There were times when the boy reminded Ben so much of his father. In these times, Ben hoped that there was plenty of Padme in the boy as well. Ben refocused on his crop. Part of him thought that he might actually get to live his days out in this way, tending to his plants, smoking with his friend. He didn’t think that would be so bad. He almost started to believe it until the day that Luke brought two very familiar droids to Ben’s home.
“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The name rang in his ears. Now, after all this time, it almost felt foreign to him. But that was him. That was his name. And he remembered why he was here. He looked at the boy before him and knew that from this moment on, the thought of living out his life on this sandy, desolate planet, was just a fantasy.
~~~
When Luke later told him about how he found his aunt and uncle’s bodies, Obi-Wan mourned internally. He knew that the boy had no idea how close Obi-Wan was to his aunt, and there was no time to explain it, even if he wanted to. He poured his energy into training the boy, knowing that he was the best hope for the galaxy and the future.
On the Millenium Falcon, Obi-Wan found a moment of peace in the cockpit as that scoundrel Han Solo piloted the ship. He shifted as he felt something strange in his pocket. He pulled out the foreign object and found that it was the pipe he was smoking on the day that Beru walked in on him. He was startled when Han said, “Don’t tell me you’re secretly holdin, old man.”
“Holding what?” Luke yelled from the back.
“Don’t WORRY about it!” Han replied, rolling his eyes.
Obi-Wan reached into that same pocket and pulled out a small bag with a little bit of his best strain in it. Putting a finger to his lips with his other hand, he gave the pipe and baggie to the young pilot.
“Hey thanks,” Han said, the crooked grin spreading on his face, “You’re all right.” He roughly pocketed the gift, glancing behind him to make sure Luke wasn’t snooping.
Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes. He settled into the back of his seat, trying to ignore the shaking Falcon. He focused on his faith, and knew that his friend was now one with the Force.
