When We Were Young- Chapter 32- An Obitine Story
They were fabulous, and everyone in the ballroom knew it. The family was graceful when gliding down the main stairs and across the dance floor. They were elegant and poised when they clustered around the throne, and the Duchess' smile was so warm and kind that many politicians smiled back at her.
Satine took a breath, “Friends, fellow Mandalorians, and guests. I am overjoyed to host you tonight alongside my family. It is my great pleasure to introduce them to you, and it’s my honor to welcome everyone I hold dear to my happy home. Thank you.”
Polite clapping echoed through the hall, and the musicians began to play. Satine nodded at her children and they walked up to their chosen partners, who were also making their way towards the throne. There was much excitement in the ballroom, it was bold to open with a waltz, but the Duchess was pleased. Everyone was talking about the children and who they were dancing with.
“You’ve put on quite the show.” Obi-Wan whispered, taking Jynn.
“I certainly have,” Satine agreed, cradling Lyra, “and here come the first parliamentarians.”
They bowed to the Duchess and gave a polite nod to Obi-Wan.
“Your Grace, Master Jedi.”
“Thank you for coming, Your Excellencies,” Satine smiled, “may I introduce Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, the father of my children.”
The men bowed, but didn’t grace the Jedi with a title.
“We were wondering, Your Grace,” one man spoke up, “if we might introduce the committee on updating the line of succession.”
“Of course,” Satine stood, “We’d love to be introduced.”
The Committee on Updating the Line of Succession was twenty people, and Obi-Wan handled them all with proper formality. Satine was quite proud.
“And if I may, Your Excellencies,” the Jedi gestured, “I know Master Yoda has stated he’d like to meet you.”
It was clear from the beginning of the conversation that Master Yoda wished the children to be heirs, and he all but told the committee this.
Jynn reached out to Master Yoda, “Ye ye-”
With a smile, the old Jedi watched with pride as Jynn walked over to him, holding Obi-Wan’s hand of course.
“You’re quite the favorite aren’t you, Master.” Anakin teased, approaching with Padme on his arm.
“Very cute, the child is,” Master Yoda grinned, “named after a former Padawan of mine, as well, she is.”
“We’ll take Lyra if you’d like to dance,” Padme suggested, “we don’t mind little ones.”
Satine grinned and shot a look at Obi-Wan.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, thank you.”
They spun around for three dances and Satine had a wonderful time.
“Everyone is watching us.” Obi-Wan grinned.
Satine winked, “Get used to it, Ben.”
After their dances they went back to schmoozing politicians, it was much less fun. They talked to every party of parliament. Red, orange, yellow, and white. It was quite late when Lyra walked for the first time.
“Ah ah-” the little ejuculated.
She was reaching out her little fist towards her mother and scrambled out of Padme’s arms. Waddling over, she cried again.
“Ah ah!”
Everyone cooed as Satine picked up her youngest, kissing her on the forehead.
“I’m here, Lyra, I’m here.”
By the end of the night, Jynn and Lyra were asleep in their parents’ arms as the guests bid their Duchess goodnight.
“Lovely evening,” Anakin smiled, “we really should do this again.”
Obi-Wan clasped his friend’s hand, “We’ll see you for the welcoming ceremony.”
Finally, when the night was over, Satine took her daughters to the jewel room.
“Pierre?”
The Royal Jewelmaster bowed.
“A success, Your Grace?”
“Most certainly,” Satine took off her tiara, “thank you for your help.”
It was nearly four in the morning when Satine and Obi-Wan were changing the twins back into their pajamas.
“They’re smiling.” Obi-Wan sighed.
“Yes,” Satine agreed, “happy to be in bed.”
Finally, when the Duchess and her Jedi got to bed, they practically collapsed.
“So much talking.” Obi-Wan complained, hand on his head.
“I know,” Satine sighed, “but I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”
Parna and Khaami were kind enough to give Satine and Obi-Wan two extra hours of sleep before waking them up.
“Satine, Master Jedi?”
Obi-Wan groaned, his Duchess swatted him in the face and woke him up.
Khaami snorted, “Parliament has sent a statement to us early, it says the children will join the line of succession once you marry.”
The Duchess froze. Really? Was it that easy?
“Satine,” Obi-Wan drawled out the syllables of her name, clearly smiling, “will you marry me.”
The Duchess sighed, “Why don’t you propose when you’re awake and you’ve eaten.”
Obi-Wan groaned and Satine kissed his head.
“Ladies,” she turned, “what shall I wear for my engagement day?”
Khaami snorted.
Your favorite ensemble,” Parna suggested, “maybe the salmon pink one?”
“You’re right,” Satine agreed, sitting up, “I’ll save the extravagance for the wedding.”
The Duchess and her ladies went into the closet to investigate, and when they came out, Obi-Wan was gone.
“Likey to prepare.” Khaami remarked.
Satine giggled, “I’m excited.”
“You should be,” Parna grinned, picking up a hair brush, “you’re going to be proposed to today.”
It happened that night, and Satine was anxious all during the day. Towards the afternoon she thought her Jedi wasn’t going to propose at all, but then Korkie came to get her.
“Lady Mother,” he was trying not to smile, “please come with me.”
All of a sudden Satine was nervous.
“Let me fix my hair.”
“Lady Mother,” Korkie grinned, “you’re fine.”
They walked out to the garden and into the maze.
“Korkie, what-”
The secret center of the maze looked lovely. There were pale blue silks tied between the trees and bunches of lilies stuffed into the hedges. There was a small picnic blanket on the ground with a bunch of food. The Duchess was so distracted she didn’t even notice Korkie leave.
“Dex’s diner,” Satine laughed, “Ben, you really know how to create a romantic evening.”
“Don’t I?” Obi-Wan asked, coming out from behind a tree.
“Hiding, were you?” the Duchess teased.
Obi-Wan winked, “I wanted to know what my lady thought.”
Satine walked up to her Jedi and kissed him on the cheek.
“I love it.”
“Come,” Obi-Wan took Satine’s hand, “sit.”
It was nice to have a romantic evening with her Jedi, they hadn’t really had a dedicated time to themselves since the battle was over, and now that the Separatists had lost their biggest leaders, the end of the war was in sight.
“Satine,” Obi-Wan looked up suddenly, “dance with me.”
The Duchess smiled and held out her hand, she didn’t need to be told twice. They twirled around the garden a couple of times before Obi-Wan stopped, kissed the Duchess’ hand, and got down on one knee.
“Satine Kryze,” the Jedi’s eyes softened, “you’ve made my life a joy to live. You’ve brought me six wonderful children, with three more to come, and I couldn’t imagine a better end to my days than spending them with you and our family.”
Obi-Wan reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. Satine gasped, it was a simple silver band with two gems next to each other. One, a purple tourmaline and the other a lapis lazuli stone. The Duchess of Mandalore choked up.
“Satine,” Obi-Wan’s voice pronounced her name like an enchantment, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes, Obi-Wan Ben Kenobi,” Satine sighed, “I’ll marry you.”
The Jedi kissed his Duchess and it felt like the stars were raining glitter down on them. When the couple separated, the noticed cheering from the balcony. They turned, all six children were waving.
“Are those binoculars?” Satine asked, horrified.
“I told them they could watch our performance.” Obi-Wan admitted.
“Ben,” the Duchess huffed, “you must be very proud of yourself.”
“I am,” the Jedi straightened, “I have a fiancee.”
The press went wild when the engagement was announced, of course, it was just after the update to the line of succession had been publicly known. A wedding date was set for three months later, which definitely shocked the press, but excitement overruled surprise and all was well.
Satine was telling Hera all about it during her sonogram.
“Really,” the nurse asked, “cheering in the press room?”
“Yes,” the Duchess giggled, “this wedding has all the gossip columns excited.”
“Naturally,” Hera agreed, “how are you feeling?”
“A little big for fourteen weeks.” Satine confessed.
“Triplets,”the nurse reminded, “how’s your sleep?”
Satine laughed, “Once I find a good position I sleep like the dead.”
“Good,” Hera smiled, “I don’t see any problems, but we’ll do another one in a month, then you’ll get to see them.”
Obi-Wan came with Satine that time to see the triplets, and Hera was thrilled.
“Finally,” she huffed, “responsibility will be taken.”
The Jedi looked uncomfortable, the Duchess snorted. Hera seemed unbothered.
“This will be cold.” she warned.
It was all worth it when the triplets appeared on screen however, Obi-Wan burst into tears.
“Ben-”
“This is the first time I’ve been with them since before birth.” he choked.
“Oh, Obi,” Satine kissed his knuckles, “it’s alright, look at them some more.”
“Two boys and a girl.” Hera confirmed.
Satine smiled, her Jedi wiped his eyes.
“I still don’t see any issues,” the nurse added, “all healthy.”
Obi-Wan sighed.
“Names,” the Duchess told her fiance, “names are what we should be thinking about.”
That night as the parents shared the happy news with their children, Khaami ushered the Duchess away with an important call.
“Hera’s dead.”
Satine was aghast, “What?”
“They found her at home,” Khaami’s eyes moistened, “with the death watch symbol carved into her head.”
The Duchess choked out a sob and her lady wrapped her arms around her.
“Why?” Satine asked, tears streaming down her face.
“I don’t know,” Khaami answered, “but the police are looking into it.”
“Satine-”
“They killed her, Obi,” the Duchess turned, “they killed Hera.”
The Jedi’s eyes went wide.
“No, oh, Satine, I’m so sorry.”
It was at the vigil they held at the palace that Korkie suggested they name the baby after her.
“I like that,” the Duchess smiled sadly, a hand on her stomach, “I like that.”
The next couple of months went by as Satine planned the biggest event of her life. She had many dress fittings, menu meetings, guest list organizing, and so much more. As the day approached, Satine found herself slightly nervous.
“Can you believe it,” Obi-Wan asked, “tomorrow?”
“I know,” the Duchess smiled, “we’re getting married.”
“Darling,” the Jedi rolled over, “is that apprehension I sense?”
“No,” Satine sighed, “just nerves.”
“Aw,” Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around his fiancee, “you’ll be great.”
The Duchess turned to look at her Jedi.
“Promise you won’t leave me at the altar?” she asked, half kidding.
“Satine,” Obi-Wan kissed her, “tomorrow is the most exciting day of my life.”
“Sleep well, then,” Satine grinned, “because tomorrow we’ll actually be married.”
The morning of the wedding could only be described as chaotic. Everyone was running all over, servants and the royal family, with news, outfits, jewels, and more news.
“The guests are arriving,” Parna huffed, “and your children have gone out to greet them.”
“All of them?” Satine asked.
“Not me, Lady Mother,” Korkie smiled, poking his head in, “we’re going to make an entrance.”
“We certainly are.” the Duchess agreed.
Satine was wearing yellow, the traditional color for Mandalorian weddings, and she looked fabulous. Wearing a crown of lilies to match the embroidered flowers on her loose bodice, Satine fluffed out her skirts and took Korkie’s arm.
Obi-Wan was standing at the altar, grinning at Satine as she approached. Anakin was behind him, clearly happy for his master. As they walked down the aisle, Satine’s smile grew. She was finally marrying her Jedi Knight. After all these years.
Korkie placed his mother’s hand in his father’s, then stood off to the side with the rest of his siblings. A Mandalorian Archbishop officiated the wedding, and both Satine and Obi-Wan repeated after him, vowing to protect and shield each other from harm in sickness and health.
“And now, the rings.”
Ahsoka was very pleased to be the ring bearer at the wedding, and she performed her job beautifully, with a little flourish at the end.
Obi-Wan took Satine’s ring.
“Satine, I’m overjoyed to be marrying you,” he began, “you and the children are the lights of my life, and I’m honored to be doing right by you and spending the rest of my life by your side.”
Satine smiled down at the ring as it slipped on her finger.
“Obi-Wan,” the Duchess grinned, “this is what I’ve always wanted, so I want to thank you for making my dreams come true-”
“Aw.”
The crowd giggled at Ahoska’s reaction.
“I love you, Obi.”
“You may kiss the bride.”
The Jedi did, then he picked her up bridal style and spun her around. Everyone cheered, and after a second kiss on the Jaru Cathedral steps, the roar got even louder.
“This is magical,” Satine giggled as they climbed into their carriage.
“It certainly is.” Obi-Wan agreed.
The children followed behind in a carriage of their own, waving at the public just like their parents.
“Is this what it’s like,” Obi-Wan asked, “your entire life?”
“Not really,” Satine put her head on the Jedi’s shoulder, “public occasions are rare.”
Obi-Wan kissed Satine’s head, “Now at least we’re together.”
There was a celebratory feast back at the castle aftwards.
“Oh my God, Satine,” Quinlan embraced her, “I can finally call you Mrs. Kenobi.”
“Kryze-Kenobi,” the Duchess corrected, “we decided to hyphenate.”
“How fancy,” Anakin smiled, hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “but speaking of fancy, let’s celebrate!”
Obi-Wan sighed, “Anakin-”
“Master Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka huffed, appearing on his other side, “you’re married now, to Momdalore!”
“I know,” the Jedi gave Satine the side eye, “I’m very lucky.”
The Duchess sat with her friend Padme for the celebration.
“Ten weeks left for me,” she told her friend, “what about you?”
“Eight,” Padme practically squealed, “I made Anakin build the cribs himself.”
Satine laughed.
“Do you wanna see the video?”
“Of course.”
It was hilarious and a very typical Anakin scene. He started without reading the directions and Padme had to help him.
“That’s certainly something.” Satine snorted.
“It is,” Padme agreed, “have you picked out a girl’s name yet?”
The Duchess smiled sadly, “We might name her after Hera.”
“Aw.”
“Although,” Satine grinned, “we’re currently discussing my husband’s title ceremony.”
“Ooh,” Padme clutched her chest, “Duke Consort?”
“Duke Consort.”
“He and Anakin are leaving the order officially, what,” Padme paused, “tomorrow?”
“I know,” Satine wiped her eyes, “I feel so fortunate.”
“So do I.”
Master Yoda let both the Jedi go with honorable distinction, happy that people he cared about had found happiness and their place in the world. It was a quick goodbye party, and then it was back to business.
“A title,” Obi-Wan whined, “I suppose it’s necessary.”
“It is.”
The former Jedi sighed, “Alright, what is it?”
“Duke Consort of Mandalore.”
Obi-Wan smiled and kissed his wife, “Sounds perfect.”
The ceremony was held a week later, and Satine confessed to her husband that walking was getting annoying.
“But don’t worry,” she told him, “Korkie, Tyra, Tristan, and Mara will be holding the heaviest things.”
It was done in the fashion of an ancient monarchy. Satine knighted her husband, which he confessed later was ironic, then crowned him, gave him a robe, and a scepter. Then Satine sat down on her throne with her husband next to her.
“The Duchess and Duke Consort of Mandalore!”
The crowd of nobles clapped politely before bowing or curtsying to their monarch’s husband.
“This is quite official now,” Obi-Wan smiled in relief when the ceremony was over, “and all that’s left are the triplets.”
“And of course their welcoming ceremony,” Satine grinned, “I’m excited to raise these ones with you.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes melted, “So am I.”
Things settled as the weeks went by, and a month later, Satine was in the hospital wing with her new nurse.
“You will likely deliver soon,” she told the Duchess, “and you stated you wanted an operation beforehand, correct?”
“Yes,” Satine nodded, “one with medicine this time.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the nurse nodded, “let’s plan for a week from now, as triplets generally come early, we want to be ready when they come out.”
One night while Satine was welcoming Korkie’s old nurse and the apprentice nannies, Obi-Wan got a call from Anakin.
“It’s happening,” he told his wife, “and Anakin is so anxious.”
“I bet,” Satine nodded, “tell him not to worry, Coruscant is known for its doctors.”
Once the nannies were adjusted and the older children were in their own personal rooms, the new ones that had been built, Satine went to bed, thinking of Padme.
“Obi-Wan?”
The former Jedi rolled over towards Satine’s voice, but he was still dead asleep.
“Obi-Wan.”
He grunted, clearly having heard her.
“Obi-Wan, it’s happening.”
“I know.”
“No, Ben,” Satine shook her husband, “I’m supposed to have an operation, but they’re coming earlier than anyone expected.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes popped open.
“Babies?”
“Yes!” the Duchess screeched, tired of repeating herself.
“It’s probably their connection to the Skywalker twins,” Obi-Wan calmly got up, “let’s get you to the med ward.”
They began operating on Satine within the hour, and it was a very quick procedure, faster than what the Duchess had expected. Soon, she was holding the two boys, while Obi-Wan held Hera.
“They’re quite small,” the doctor informed Satine, “they will need to gain weight at their checkups.”
“How often are these checkups?” Obi-Wan asked.
“For the first week, every other day,” the doctor explained, “and then every other month if they get stronger.”
Satine nodded, “We ordered a lot of formula.”
“Good,” the doctor smiled, “and now I suggest rest for Your Grace, and the triplets.”
The nurses rolled in three bassinets decorated with ribbons and little initials.
“Aw,” Satine grinned, “Ben look.”
“They’re adorable,” Obi-Wan agreed, “and I’ll make the phone calls to those who need to be informed.”
“Thank you, darling,” Satine smiled, handing Jacen to a nurse, “we’ll rest.”
A second nurse and the doctor put the remaining twins to bed and the Duchess kissed her husband.
“Sleep well.” Obi-Wan grinned.
Heavily drugged, Satine slept until the morning, waking up in the hospital wing to her nurses.
“Where are the triplets?” were her first words of the day.
“In the nursery with their nannies,” the nurse answered, “no complications. For you or the babies.”
The Duchess was relieved, “That’s good to hear.”
The doors opened and Obi-Wan brought the children in. Jynn and Lyra, who had begun speaking about four months ago, both were struck with a fit of giggles upon seeing the babies, who were being wheeled in by the nannies.
“Baby!” Lyra pointed.
“Babies!” Jynn corrected.
Everyone laughed.
“This is Jacen,” Satine gestured to the littlest redhead, “the blonde is Sylvian-”
“Ooh.”
“And your youngest sister is Hera.”
“Aw.”
“She looks like me.” Mara clapped.
“And Sylvian is my mini body double.” Tristan added.
“But Jacen though,” Tyra grinned, “he looks like you and Dad, Korkie.”
“He does,” Obi-Wan shook his head, “so many children.”
The babies were passed around before they got fussy, and then it was eating time. Korkie was very happy to see his old nurse as well, and Satine thanked her, for everything she’d done for the family.
“I’m pleased to, Your Grace,” the old woman smiled, “and I’m pleased at your happy ending.”
“So are we,” Obi-Wan smiled, “and once Satine’s ready, the Prime Minister will be coming.”
“Ah, yes,” Satine sighed, “and have you heard from Anakin?”
Obi-Wan nodded, but Tyra beat him to it.
“Luke and Leia,” she clapped, “they were also born yesterday.”
“Wow,” Satine sighed, “would you call that the force, Ben?”
“Most definitely.” Obi-Wan answered.
Later that day, after Satine’s nap, Prime Minister Djarin came with a bouquet of lilies.
“Thank you, Jaru,” the Duchess smiled, “I assume the public knows?”
“They're ecstatic,” the Prime Minister responded, “and how are you?”
“Well,” Satine sighed, “the children are healthy and the drugs are wearing off.”
“That’s good,”Jaru smiled, setting down the flowers, “I will inform the Ruling Council that you are resting today.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” the Duchess smiled, “that is something I really appreciate.”
Satine rested for the next day and a half, then, she went back to the business of governing.
“The criminals responsible for Nurse Hera’s death have pleaded guilty.”
“Good,” the Duchess nodded, “her family will have closure.”
“And the welcoming ceremony? When should that be?”
“A little longer than the traditional two weeks,” Satine decided, “the triplets need to grow a little more.”
Pencils scratched notepads.
“I’ll schedule it, Your Grace.”
“Now the ceremony’s menu.”
Then came the guest list, what the royal family would wear, and how to pay the Mandalorian Archbishops.
“Satine?”
It was Waldie who called, catching up with the Duchess in the hallway.
“Congratulations on the safe delivery.”
“Thank you,” Satine smiled, “I don’t remember much of it.”
“I hope it’s not too much to ask,” Waldie fiddled, “but now that there are more royal daughters, I think we should hire more seamstresses.”
“Ah,” Satine nodded, “perhaps one or two of the ones formerly in our service for the ball gowns, it’s a helpful suggestion, thank you Waldie.”
In the next two weeks, two more seamstresses were hired and welcoming outfits for the triplets were made. Everyone else in the family wore what they had to the ball presentation, and they made quite the spectacle all in white.
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