Chapter Text
Prologue 1.2
The baby in the cradle would not cry. Sure, when he had been welcomed to this world, the little boy did utter a pitiful wail, but to Rey it seemed like he did it out of sheer politeness to the flustered healer, that had him in her arms. A sign that he was alive and well and in all sense of the word - a perfectly normal child. If Force ghosts could snort, Rey would've right then and there.
Now the tiny Kenobi baby had his arms outstretched towards her shimmering form - a silent plea, Rey neared his bed and loomed over the tiny form. Instead of being scared however, Obi-Wan Kenobi tried to grasp one of her fingers with all the curiosity typical of a newborn Sentient.
"I am sorry, young one," Rey silently whispered to the newborn, "but I cannot give you neither the warmth nor comfort you crave. You will find, I'm afraid, those simple things lacking throughout your life, oh little Jedi," here, the ghost relented and caressed the tiny face - a bare whisper of a touch.
Obi - Wan had stilled by now and his blue eyes searched hers, "However remember this carefully," Rey swirled her fingers in front of the scrunched up nose, "you are strong and wise Obi - Wan Kenobi! You shall brave the hardships, life throws your way and throughout the pain you shall find your strength. The Force has picked you, my tiny companion, to bear a heavy burden, but do not lose heart, oh Master of my Master - as long as I am here, Force willing, you shall never have to face the Universe alone." Not this time , she vowed.
The baby cooed back at the ghost in the empty room; his mother had succumbed to exhaustion, before even having the chance to hold her child. Right now, Mrs. Kenobi's life force was barely a flickering spark somewhere several walls over. Rey was certain that her tiny companion could feel the wavering pulse of his mother's life signature and to distract the infant, she had opted to appear and allowed him to see her.
She is thirty three right now, proud and fierce - a Jedi Master in her own right - a whimsy of the Force - she is a part of now - until this very night, she would've silently guard the Kenobi's household as a child of five - the ceilings too tall and the light of the windows too far out of her reach. But Obi-Wan needed her to be older now and so she was. And what does time matter to a ghost really?
It had been three hours since she first stood vigil over the cradle and for the first time it occurred to Rey, that in her life she'd never learned a lullaby or a gentle song of any kind. Sure, Poe would tune in a radio from time to time. The loud beats and shrill voices, he called music, would fill all the nooks and crannies of the ships he piloted, a constant in the ever changing times.
She thought, Finn might've liked memorizing a lullaby, if he ever had had the chance. But he, much like her, had to put survival first and so the idea had never really crossed his mind.
Instead she chased the silence with stories. Told the child about her Master, the new Jedi Order, vast seas and the countless stars. She spun the tale of his own adventures as a Jedi and of her inability to speak for so long with anyone, back when she was young, scavenging for scraps in the giant remains of the metal beasts, that had met their end under the unforgiving sun of Jakku.
Some things are better left unspoken though, so the Jedi avoided plaguing the infant's dreams with red crystals and man made stars, Rey would keep to herself the end of the story for now.
And so Obi-Wan Kenobi greeted his first dawn. His only company - a ghost of a stranger, not yet born.
And the Future silently began to shift.