#she wants to see Obi-Wan blush every time he looks at Satine

[spectral-musette]

okay okay I originally misread today’s Satine week prompt as “Senate gals” instead of “Senate gala”, so here’s Satine and her besties from the Senate, Padme Amidala and Riyo Chuchi, also looking gala-ready.

[friskynotebook]

You Make It Feel Like Christmas Ch. 5

An Obidala Hallmark Christmas movie rewrite!

CW: age gap, food, grief, injury, concussion

Summary: Padme and the Kenobis take in the Christmas market and share Christmas memories

Also on AO3!

Padme scrunched her nose as she woke, feeling a rough dog tongue licking her face.

“Oh, good morning, Lola,” she giggled, reaching out to pet the puppy. “Good morning, sweetheart. How are you?”

Padme rolled out of bed and dressed, carrying Lola downstairs. Looks like I’m the first one up. Wrapping herself in a blanket scarf she had found in the back of her borrowed closet, she lit a match and started the fireplace.

“Perfect,” she sighed, a smile on her face.

Satisfied with the cozy early morning atmosphere, Padme headed into the kitchen to prepare the coffee as she’d watched Obi-Wan do for the past few days, humming to herself as it brewed.

“Is that coffee I smell?”

Obi-Wan’s voice startled Padme out of her humming. “It is. It’s ready, actually.”

“Lovely,” he replied, watching her pour him a cup. “Thank you, Ami.”

“You’re welcome,” she blushed, pouring her own cup.

“And I see you got a fire started as well.”

“I did,” she nodded. “Cozy, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he agreed. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Leia ran downstairs dressed in a plain green onesie.

“I look like a giant green bean!” Leia wailed. “I’m supposed to be an elf!”

“Oh, Leia,” Padme cooed. “At least you’re a really cute green bean.”

Leia pouted and looked down at her socked feet.

“I think I can help,” Padme said. “I would just need a sewing kit.” She turned towards Obi-Wan, a question in her eyes.

“I think I can find one of those,” he nodded.

##

“Watch your step right there,” Obi-Wan warned Padme, taking her hand and leading her into the dusty old barn.

“Thanks . . . Oh, wow. This is such a beautiful space,” Padme gasped, looking around.

“Oh, thank you,” he demurred. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“It is . . .”

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Satine used to keep her horse out here . . . I’ve been wanting to turn it into an animal hospital for a while now. I’d love it if my clients didn’t have to drive sixty miles to Boulder if their animal needs surgery, you know?”

“That would be great.” Padme walked in comfortable silence with him for a few beats before clearing her throat. “I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about her, about Satine.”

“Oh. Um . . .” Obi-Wan looked down and swallowed. “Well, uh, she passed away a little over three years ago now.” He rubbed his nose, scratched his beard. “Sh-she wasn’t sick for all that long, which is good . . . If anything good could come from that, you know.” He turned away and kept walking.

“I’m so sorry,” Padme murmured. 

“Thank you.”

“But that’s not really what I meant.”

Obi-Wan turned to her, his brow furrowed. “Oh?”

“I actually wanted to hear about what she was like. A memory or something?”

“Alright,” he said, smiling softly. “She would make freshly baked cinnamon bread every weekend for the family. She loved baking . . . We would make sure to spend time together every evening at the end of the day to talk about how things went and to reconnect as a couple. That was very important to us, to do that . . . And she loved Christmas. That was her holiday. She made homemade stockings for the children, handmade ornaments . . .” He swallowed. “She always made sure the children got one present they really wanted and one present she believed would make them better people. And just about every year, the children preferred that present anyway . . . I know this might sound strange, but she had the most wonderful scent. When I woke up in the morning, even before I opened my eyes, I just knew she was there. I knew she was all around me.”

“She sounds like an amazing person,” Padme said, her voice hoarse from disuse. “You must miss her a lot.”

Obi-Wan nodded, unable to speak. He stepped over to a few boxes, starting to dig through them.

“You know,” Padme began. “If you did turn this space into an animal hospital, it would be like you were doing something for Satine, in her memory. Helping animals with this incredible space she loved so much.”

“I’ve honestly never thought of it like that,” he replied. “When you put it like that, it sounds lovely.”

Padme smiled and looked down, letting his praise wash over her.

Obi-Wan pulled a metal tin from a dusty box, smiling at her. “Sewing kit.”

##

“Excited?” Korkie asked his little sister.

“Yep!” Leia beamed, swinging her big brother’s and father’s arms as she walked with them into the Christmas market, showing off her special sparkly elf costume under her jacket.

The family gathered together with the other families as the children gathered on stage for the outdoor Christmas play.

“She’s an elf among green beans,” Obi-Wan murmured to Padme, leaning in close. Padme blushed and opened her mouth to respond when the children interrupted her.

“In Santa’s workshop far away, Santa’s elves work night and day!” Leia grinned in front of her classmates, clearly excited to be wearing such a pretty costume.

“These little elves make video games!” Santa Quinlan announced.

Leia stepped up front. “And these little elves give dolls their names!”

Padme gave Leia a dazzling smile as Obi-Wan surreptitiously went to rub his eye.

“And Santa packs the gifts in his sleigh and takes it to kids on Christmas Day!” Quinlan finished. “Merry Christmas!”

As the crowd started to disperse, Obi-Wan pulled Padme aside. “Her costume really is amazing. I cannot thank you enough, Ami.”

Padme blushed again. Probably just the cold . . . “Oh, I think I might have overdone it a little bit.”

Leia ran over and lept into her father’s arms. “There she is!” Obi-Wan cried as he lifted her up.

“I had the best costume ever!” Leia declared.

“I don’t think Leia minds,” Obi-Wan teased, grinning at Padme. He turned back to his daughter. “You did! Congratulations!”

“Thank you Daddy!” Leia clung to his neck. ##

Later that evening, the family was walking through the market, twinkling Christmas lights dancing through the crisp winter air as their boots trudged through the snow.

“Who wants hot chocolate?” Obi-Wan asked the children.

“Me!” They all cheered.

“Me too!” Obi-Wan grinned. “Want one?” he asked Padme.

“Oh no,” she replied. “I ate, like, half a turkey.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “We’ll be back. Korkie, help me bring them over?”

“Okay!” Korie said, taking his father’s hand as they walked off.

“Ami!” Mace and Depa came over to Padme, Luke, and Leia.

“Oh hi!” Padme greeted them. “Enjoying the market?”

“It’s wonderful—one of my favorite parts of the season,” Depa replied.

“Listen, Ami, I wanted to talk to you about your car,” Mace said. “We’ve been combing the woods looking for it, and I think we’re finally closing in on it.”

“How have you been feeling?” Depa asked.

“Oh, I . . .” Padme trailed off as she glanced over to where Obi-Wan and Luke went in search of hot chocolate—only to find Obi-Wan going for a polite kiss on the cheek and Siri pulling him in for a more passionate kiss.

Before she even realized what she was feeling, her heart sank. Why do I feel so . . . despondent? He can kiss whoever he wants. He doesn’t owe me anything.

Padme tried to not let her disappointment show on her face. “I’m feeling much better these days,” she replied. “Must be the mountain air.”

Obi-Wan and Korkie returned with the hot chocolates, just in time for the tree lighting.

“Three, two, one!” The crowd chanted, cheering when the Christmas tree in town square was lit up in all its glory.

##

“They are out,” Obi-Wan said as he came into the living room from putting the children to bed. “Must have been all the sugar.”

He sank down on the couch next to Padme. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the market.”

Padme sighed. “Look, Obi-Wan, I have to tell you something. I’m having the time of my life with you and your kids—at least as far as I know—I think I should find another place to stay because . . . I don’t want to be selfish and come between you and Siri.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I saw you and her in the square kissing when you went to get hot chocolate.”

“Oh!” Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, Ami, it’s not like that at all—”

“I get it,” Padme continued. “I mean, I just fell out of the sky like some crazy snowflake with no memory. There’s a whole world here that I’m not a part of, and I get that—”

“It wasn’t a real kiss,” Obi-Wan interrupted.

Padme looked taken aback. “It looked like a real kiss . . .”

“Well it was a kiss, but it was because of the mistletoe,” Obi-Wan explained. “She held a mistletoe over my head and I wanted to give her a kiss on the cheek to be polite, but she, well, went further than I was comfortable with.” He cleared his throat.

Padme frowned. “Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan looked up from his lap. “Hmm?”

“Are you alright?” she repeated. “She forced you into something you didn’t want, only to make it worse by crossing your boundaries even further—and she did it in public in front of Korkie because she knew you wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of him. It couldn’t have been easy for you, Obi-Wan. Are you okay?”

Obi-Wan swallowed, his features softening. If Padme didn’t know better, she’d think he looked touched. “Better now that I’m home in front of the fire,” he smiled.

After a beat, he continued. “We did go on a date, once. But it was so . . . wrong.  It didn’t feel right. She force-fed me some of the most slimy tofu I’d ever had.”

Padme gave him a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I’d never make you eat slimy tofu. Anyone who makes slimy tofu should not be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”

He laughed. “Ami, Christmas has not been the same around here for a few years now, and having you here with us . . . You’ve made it feel special.”

“Really?” Padme asked, her voice soft.

“Really. And you are a part of this family—I mean, part of this world, here in Salida,” he quickly corrected himself. “I know you’re part of another world and we’ll figure out where that is but until we do . . . What I’m trying to say is we’d love to have you stay here with us.”

She beamed at him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Can you bring me water? I’m thirsty!” Leia called.

Padme raised her head. “Duty calls?”

Obi-Wan stood, a wry grin on his face. “Duty calls.”

No-pressure tags: @saradika @obiknights @justsaysomethingjayj @cypanache @alabama-metal-man @vic3456 @darlingamidala @celestial-alignment @your-dose-of-obidala @written-musings @fearless-too-and-stubborn

[duxhess-kryzewan]

I love your jinn!universe so much!!! If you're still doing prompts, might I suggest the Skywalkers and Ahsoka meeting Jinn for the first time?

- Genetics -

Jinn was one part Obi-Wan and two parts Satine.

It was the first thing that went through Ahsoka's mind within moments of meeting her. Even at the tender age of three she had exhibited many traits of her parents.

They hadn't kept her hidden, per say. But even with the Galaxy at relative peace Satine and Obi-Wan had their reservations about sharing their daughter with the world. After all, the Jedi Order and Mandalore have had a terse relationship in the past, and the looming concern that their daughters birth would cause significant backlash was ever present in their minds.

So Jinn was kept out of the public eye, with a majority of her time spent with Satine in Sundari Palace. Even Anakin, Obi-Wans most trusted friend hadn't been allowed to see her until now, a fact that her master was a tad bitter about, but much more understanding as a father himself.

Ahsoka on the other hand was a bit more patient with the couple, though that resolve was beginning to wear thin, and she was grateful they had finally granted them permission to meet Jinn.

She watches as Satine runs her fingers through her daughters hair, a thick mane of auburn that burned brightly against her pale complexion, a trait that comes directly from her mother. Her eyes - a stunning blue - could belong to either of her parents, but something tells her the color comes from Satine too.

Jinn toddles over to Padme, whom she had immediately taken a liking too, and extends her arms. Out of the corner of her eye she watches as Obi-Wans gaze momentarily leaves his daughter and settles on Satine, and he looks at her with such adoration that Ahsoka feels like she's intruding on a private moment.

"She's awfully quiet for a toddler." Anakin comments as he watches his wife dote on the girl.

Obi-Wan smiles and moves across the room to stand beside Satine, "Always has been."

Ahsoka watches as Satine brushes the backs of her fingers against Obi-Wans, a subtle show of affection that she's sure she wasn't supposed to see.

"I was actually a bit concerned," Satine begins, "Because of how little she was speaking. Turned out she just picks and chooses when she'll do so."

"Stark contrast to her mother, who has no issue speaking her mind." Obi-Wan says with a smug grin.

Satine glares at him, but there's a hint of a smile playing at her lips and Ahsoka knows she's much more amused than annoyed.

"The patience of her parents." Padme comments with a tender grin, and she couldn't help but mentally agree.

Obi-Wans hand settles on Satine's hip, a ghost of a touch that Ahsoka is sure they wouldn't have been bold enough to do in front of an audience years ago. She supposes the presence of their daughter had changed that.

"Is she-," Ahsoka begins to say, but pauses, considering her words, "Has she exhibited any signs that she's force sensitive?"

Something flashes across Satine's face, a brief emotion that Ahsoka isn't quite able to place. Relief, perhaps?

"Not that we've seen," Obi-Wan answers, and Ahsoka can see his grip on Satine's waist tighten ever so slightly, "At this point she likely would have shown signs."

She wonders if Obi-Wan was disappointed or elated by his daughters lack of force sensitivity. Relieved, she would imagine, the last thing he would have ever wanted was for the order to try and take her. Not that Satine would ever have allowed it. That much Ahsoka is sure of.

"She's beautiful." She finds herself saying, eyes suddenly unable to leave Jinn. She had every bit of her mothers delicate features and steady demeanor. Hair color aside, she was practically the spitting image of Satine.

Obi-Wan looks down at Satine and grins, "She gets it from her mother."

Satine blushes profusely, and she can see she's hardly able to bite back a smile at his words.

Ahsoka feels a warmth spread through her at the sight. Padme and Anakin aside, she rarely bares witness to someone looking at another person with such love and adoration. She knows without a doubt that the love Obi-Wan and Satine share for each other, and subsequently their daughter, is something she hopes she'll be lucky enough to have.

Her attention turns back to Jinn, who had decided to break her ongoing silence and giggle at Anakin, and she's suddenly certain that there isn't a little girl in the galaxy as loved as her.

[gffa]

IF YOU STRIP CONTEXT OF THE REST OF THE SHOW--HELL, EVEN OF THE REST OF THIS EPISODE--FROM THIS SCENE, I can see how we should be siding entirely with Ahsoka, especially on the heels of the walkabout arc and her conflict with being drawn back towards the Jedi and the Jedi Order. Her points aren’t wrong, in the sense that she’s right that Obi-Wan is playing politics with this, but she’s stripping context and consequence out from the choice he faces and that’s specifically why he says, “That’s not fair.” and even Ahsoka herself says, “I’m not trying to be.” Her accusation is not fair. Because, let’s say that Obi-Wan did exactly what Ahsoka said--that he prioritized the people of Mandalore over saving the Chancellor.  We’re setting aside that this was a manipulation on Palpatine’s part and that Mandalore is a trap, only what we can see from Obi-Wan’s point of view and his motivations, his good faith assumptions on why rescuing the Chancellor is important. If they chose Mandalore over Coruscant, what would happen is: - They would be drawn into yet another war because they had broken a treaty, when they’re already stretched to the breaking point for this first war. - The Chancellor may be the one in trouble, but what does Ahsoka think will happen if the Chancellor dies or is ransomed back?  The Republic would be in chaos, the war effort is already balanced precariously, and none of them know that the Separatists aren’t the real threat.  Whatever good reasons many of the Separatists may have, they murder, enslave, and oppress the worlds they attack.  If the Republic loses the war, that’s what happens to every world in the Republic. - The Jedi might be more popular with people if they saved Mandalore, but would it really benefit the galaxy as a whole, given a good faith assumption on what these characters would know?  (There is no right answer to this question, of course.) Ahsoka is very nearly arguing for popularity over doing the more important thing, because this isn’t a situation where there aren’t consequences.  Mandalore needs their help, but so too does Coruscant and it’s not just about the Chancellor, it’s about the Republic as a whole.  And it even comes down to--why are politics bad?  I get that Ahsoka means that choosing your actions based on politics is a calculated sort of thing, but why is that bad?  Because Star Wars: Propaganda basically posited that that was the problem, that the Jedi didn’t play enough politics, that’s why their image was so bad. Ahsoka’s case for Mandalore could be argued to be the same thing--you want to win back the public’s faith, then you have to take this path.  That right there is politics, too. EVERYTHING IN THIS WAR IS POLITICS.  NOTHING CAN ESCAPE IT.  BECAUSE POLITICS IS EVERYTHING LIKE WE ARE LIVING IN A WORLD THAT HAS DEMONSTRATED THAT TO US VERY CLEARLY.  AND WE SHOULD ALL LEAN INTO POLITICS, RATHER THAN SEPARATING OURSELVES FROM THEM. If politics were inherently bad, we wouldn’t see characters like Padme Amidala, Bail Organa, and Mon Mothma--or, hell, even Leia Organa herself--as heroes.  Because politics are important!  You don’t have to be (and shouldn’t be) a full-time politician for politics to still be important.  That working within a system to help better it and be able to reach more people is a good thing. Further, this doesn’t come without context of earlier in the episode, Obi-Wan is specifically shown to be incredibly desiring of helping people--he basically caves to Anakin’s strategy based on Anakin’s argument that they can help people sooner:

That is right there in this very same episode.  Obi-Wan agrees to a reckless strategy specifically when Anakin points out that it can help people sooner. Obi-Wan Kenobi is not someone who doesn’t want to help people, that’s his whole thing! Further context, which isn’t specifically related to this particular issue, but does give context to Obi-Wan Kenobi as a character is everything with Bo-Katan seething over whether Satine even meant anything to him.  She did.  And she still does.  But he cannot allow his feelings to cloud his judgement--and that is something that is key to being a Jedi.

It reminds me of George Lucas’ commentary on attachment: “But [Anakin] has become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padme and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation. And it feeds into fear of losing things, which feeds into greed, wanting to keep things, wanting to keep his possessions and things that he should be letting go of. His fear of losing her turns to anger at losing her, which ultimately turns to revenge in wiping out the village.“  –George Lucas, Attack of the Clones commentary “He turns into Darth Vader because he gets attached to things. He can’t let go of his mother; he can’t let go of his girlfriend. He can’t let go of things.”  –George Lucas, Time Magazine interview (2002) The thing about Obi-Wan/Satine is that it was pretty clearly created to be a foil to Anakin/Padme (and, boyyyyyyyyy, is that abundantly clear in the scene with Bo-Katan where Anakin is STARING at Obi-Wan as he says this, as we all know Revenge of the Sith is looming riiiiiiiiight over our heads), where Obi-Wan and Satine do make the right choices about the vows they’ve taken to other aspects of their lives.  That they are balanced in a way that Anakin and Padme are not. Dave Filoni says it himself in the commentary for the Bad Batch arc, in this very season: “I mean, even Obi-Wan was in love with someone.  That’s not abnormal.  It’s very normal.  What you choose to do and how you choose to have a relationship, what you sacrifice, then that becomes a bigger deal when he’s made an oath to the Jedi Order to be selfless, to put everyone else ahead of himself.”  --Dave Filoni Obi-Wan’s feelings for Satine are very much a parallel and contrast for Anakin’s feelings for Padme, and we know exactly how that’s going to turn out for Anakin, because Revenge of the Sith looms incredibly large over this entire episode and this entire arc. ”He’s made an oath to put everyone else ahead of himself.” is something Obi-Wan has done and continues to uphold, so accusing him of politics is like--what does Obi-Wan gain by playing politics then?  He’s putting other people ahead of himself, so playing politics must be for that reason, too. Furthering this context, especially in tying it to what it means to be a Jedi, is commentary from “The Lawless”:

”And in that moment, that critical moment, he cannot seize on his anger and his hatred for Maul.  Though that’s probably there, deep within, he can’t seize on it or Maul will win, he knows that.  I think we learned a lot about Obi-Wan and what it means to be a true Jedi, which is what I see Obi-Wan as.“ –Dave Filoni, on “The Lawless” All of this is important to understand that, when Obi-Wan Kenobi talks about the choices one makes, about not letting his feelings cloud his judgement, he’s coming from a place of established narrative reliability. We want to side with Ahsoka, because her hurt is so genuine and valid.  Because she sees a problem with the way the galaxy views the Jedi and we know that the Jedi’s doom is soon upon them.  (And this is where I get wary of the show’s narrative potentially trying to say, “Well, they’re kind of responsible for their own genocide because they just weren’t nice enough to people and only helped so many people, that they should have done more and more and more.” because, no, fuck that idea for real, the Jedi are not responsible for their own genocide, certainly not based on anything in the canon!)  She wants to fix this problem and she’s coming at it with a choice that she thinks would restore faith in them. The problem is that the Jedi are being asked to make choices between what’s popular and what they see as doing more good for more people.  And there’s a great line from the Age of Republic - Padme Amidala comic that ties into these themes as well:

“But trying to serve the greater good doesn’t exactly make you popular.”  (Oh, hey, look!  More politics!) On first blush, the idea of helping the people of Mandalore over saving the Chancellor seems like the right thing to do because we know Palpatine is Sidious, we know that it leads to ROTS, we know that ROTS leads to the Empire, especially when Ahsoka ties it to the Jedi Order becoming unpopular with the galaxy.  But Obi-Wan points out that she’s not being fair.  He points out that the Republic is on the line.  I’m pointing out that everything is politics, one decision over the other isn’t less political just because it’s more intimate.  And it doesn’t come without context.  It’s not just the Chancellor, it’s bigger than that. And serving that greater good--as Obi-Wan genuinely sees it--doesn’t always make them popular. And still even further, this isn’t entirely about the Jedi Order’s politics, but it’s about Ahsoka’s own hurt at how the Jedi had to play politics with her, too.  She’s still hurt that they expelled her--though, as always, context shows that she gave them absolutely nothing to work with, she immediately distrusted them before they even heard anything, she refused to even send them a message, she attacked clones on her way out, she was seen colluding with a known Separatist war criminal, she was found with incredibly damning evidence, and still wouldn’t actually talk to them or ask them directly to trust her, and ultimately none of her own actions saved her, it was a Jedi who saved her--that this doesn’t negate that they made mistakes as well, they should have visited her in the jail, they were playing politics and it doesn’t matter to Ahsoka that their hands were forced--and that’s driving her conversation with Obi-Wan, especially as someone who is part of the Council that she feels betrayed her. And Obi-Wan’s coming at this from the point of view that she let her emotions cloud her judgement over what happened, that she reacted blindly rather than trusting them in the critical moment (and the theme of trust was allll over that arc), and she’s still coming from this from a place of emotion, but that he respects her choices in the end and he obviously still cares very much about her.

All of that is underlining the conversation and one of the things that makes it such a hellishly complicated scene here in “Old Friends Not Forgotten” is that both of them are pretty narratively reliable. They’re both coming from a place of deep care and a desire to help people. They’re both coming from a place wanting to do what’s best for people. Which is why I love that I think Ahsoka genuinely loves the Jedi Order and why she says, “people who truly need us”.  It furthers my feeling of how I think, had Order 66 not happened, she may have come back to the Jedi eventually, if this difference could be resolved, but at the very least she certainly never hated them.  This is all coming from a place of love for the Jedi, for her family.  Even if she’s on a different path, even if ultimately she’ll say, “I’m no Jedi.” in Rebels, that’s about what she’s willing to do, what lines she's willing to cross, that a Jedi wouldn’t, and that it doesn’t mean they’re not still her family and that she wants good things for and with them. And why I love that she may not be being fair here, she may be stripping context and consequence out of the choice she wants to make, she may be letting emotion cloud her judgement, but she’s still so incredibly valuable and I do think they should have listened to her more.  The Jedi’s genocide is not on them, the murder of an entire people can never be on the victims, but I do think Obi-Wan has so much weight on his shoulders that he has trouble seeing the forest for the trees.  And that’s not a horrible thing, especially because Ahsoka’s shoving the trees aside here. But that there was no right answer here.  Mandalore is a trap.  Mandalore is going to fall to the Empire anyway.   Coruscant is a trap.  Coruscant is going to fall to the Empire anyway.   It doesn’t matter if they choose Mandalore or Coruscant.  Order 66 is already set to be triggered any minute now, nothing can stop that.  Them being more popular wouldn’t have saved them from it, not in a galaxy where the Republic general public was apathetic enough to not stand up against the Separatist themselves, instead allowed a clone army to be commissioned and the Jedi to be drafted into the war.  They wouldn’t stand up for themselves against the Separatists, they weren’t going to stand up for the genocide of a tiny religious culture, either.  It doesn’t even matter if the Jedi fought in the war or not--fight and be killed.  Don’t fight and they’ll be like Mandalore and be forced into it anyway or killed. That the Jedi were forced to make shitty choices in situations where there weren’t any right answers and get blamed for not having magical answers to problems that they cannot possible solve. What really brought that home to me was the way the scene ended--when Anakin offered an actual reasonable, viable solution (something that most people don’t offer the Jedi when saying what they should or shouldn’t do, they’re rarely given actual, workable options) where they could do both, Obi-Wan pretty readily jumped on it.

This shows that of course the Jedi want to help, whenever and wherever they can.  Not going to Mandalore isn’t that they don’t care or that they don’t want to help, but that there are two tire fires put in front of them and they didn’t see a reasonable way to do both, and Coruscant, as the capital of the Republic, which is the only body that can possibly stand between the Separatists and the enslavement/oppression/murder of thousands of worlds, must be protected. (Just look what happens when the Republic and the Jedi fall--the Empire inflicted atrocity after atrocity on the galaxy, which says to me that the Jedi were right in that the Republic had to be defended because it was all that stood between the galaxy and a lot of really evil things happening.) Ultimately, the only thing that the Jedi could really do that mattered is that they helped save people--people like Hera Syndulla--and they did do that.  And the accusation that they’re not trying to help people is not a fair one.  Even when it comes from a place of deep care.  And that’s why this scene was ouchy in such a good way, it really was an amazing episode to watch!

[duchess-of-mandalore]

A Working Plan

Two months on the run have led to this: a dilapidated inn without electricity, a snowstorm raging outside, and one tiny bed.

Satine Kryze is determined to make the best of it, no matter how skeptical her Jedi protectors are.

An exercise to see if I could actually write something with zero angst! 

Also read on Ao3

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The wind whistles through the cracks in the unsealed window. Frost climbs up the inside of the transparisteel and a few stray flakes flutter inside. Satine swallows a comment that her father definitely would have said wasn't ladylike. She knows that she should be grateful that they weren't outside in this weather, but the dilapidated inn they'd found on the outskirts of town doesn't seem much better at the moment. No electricity. No heat. No running water—there was nothing she wouldn't give for a hot shower right now—and one tiny bed in the center of the room. Master Jinn walks passed her and sheds his cloak, which is soaked from the blizzard they'd been caught in. Satine catches a smell and turns her head away. She likes Master Jinn. He had been a welcome and comforting presence during the last two months on the run, but there wasn't anything she wouldn't give for a shower for him right now too. She probably can't talk. She certainly doesn't smell like a bed of roses. Qui-Gon hangs the cloak by the door, looks at the bed as if considering it for the first time, and then looks back at her. "Do you have a preference for a side, Duchess?" A preference? Yes, please. Her soft, fluffy bed on Kalevala, if you don't mind. "Right, I suppose." Qui-Gon gestures to the bed, not a hint of embarrassment or discomfort. She's glad for it. No need to make this situation more awkward than it already is. Satine hangs up her own wet cloak and then crawls in fully clothed. She looks at the giant Jedi skeptically, wondering how on earth this was going work. She resigns herself to a tight squeeze, but the bed is short even for her. It would never fit him. Qui-Gon crawls beneath the covers and settles next to her. She angles herself on the edge of the mattress to give him as much space as possible, and by lying on his side and pulling his knees up slightly, he just manages to get his giant frame on the bed. This could actually work, she thinks. She relaxes into the bed, already grateful for the combined heat. If the room got any colder than it already was, at least they wouldn't freeze to death.

There's a soft knock on the door. It squeaks as it opens, and then Obi-Wan's voice filters in along with the dim light from the hallway. "Master?" Qui-Gon turns toward the door. "What is it, Obi-Wan?" Satine raises an eyebrow as Obi-Wan shuffles in, awkwardly rubbing a hand on the back of his head. "The innkeeper . . . she, uh, she kicked me out of my room." "What did you do?" Satine asks incredulously. "Nothing!" Obi-Wan shoots back with a glare. "She said that there was a last-minute guest who needed a place." "We already paid!" Satine couldn't stop the shrillness in her voice. "I told her that! Well, I tried to tell her that." "What did you say?" Qui-Gon says gently. "I said—" Obi-Wan lets out a series of hesitant grunts and snorts. Satine smirks in amusement. "Close, padawan," Qui-Gon responds. His dry tone doesn't quite cover his amusement. "You told her 'we already ate the room'." "Oh." It's dark but Satine assumes Obi-Wan is blushing. "Well, how do you say 'we paid for' it?" The squeals and grunts come from her this time, and she makes sure to inhale where Obi-Wan gave a huff. Two pairs of eyes turn to her. She shrugs. "I had a poly-sci tutor who was an Ugnaught at the university on Coruscant." Qui-Gon smirks at her, clearly impressed.

Obi-Wan crosses his arms. "Anyway, she said every other room is full and that we could leave if she didn't like it, but . . ." He gestures to the blowing snow streaking across the window. "She knew we wouldn't take her up on that offer." Qui-Gon's voice is resigned, clearly thinking through their options. There didn't seem to be any. No other rooms but this one. No other bed except . . . "It's alright, Master," Obi-Wan says, quickly. "I'll just sleep on the floor." Satine furrows her brow. He couldn't be serious. He'd freeze in the middle of the night with only his wet cloak to cover him. "Are you certain? Perhaps I could sleep on the floor and you . . ." he stops, as if put off by his own idea. "Though no, probably not." Satine realizes what he was going to say and tenses, trying to shake the image of herself and the young Jedi together in bed, as close as she and Qui-Gon are now. This situation is innocent; she doubts that situation would feel the same. "It's fine, Master," Obi-Wan's voice catches, and she knows the same image is in his mind. "I—I'll be fine for the night." "If you're sure." Qui-Gon sounds hesitant, but also willing to take his apprentice up on the offer. Satine raises an eyebrow at him. "You can't be serious." Qui-Gon looks back. He always seems a little surprised when she talks back to him. Perhaps it's her tone, as her father liked to say. But she can't help it when people make bad decisions. "Would you like to propose an alternative, Duchess?" Obi-Wan is already stretching out on the floor. In some ways, Satine finds the Jedi to be downright ascetic, but Obi-Wan's tendencies tended toward masochistic. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, yes, I would," she says. She sits up in order to look down at the boy on the floor, who looks, she thinks, positively pathetic. "Padawan Kenobi, you are free to join us up here." Obi-Wan's eyes meet hers, wide and shocked, as if he simply can't fathom what she's saying. "I think we'll all be more comfortable together." She uses a low and patient voice, the ones she reserves for simpletons and clueless politicians. "You must be joking," the infernal boy says. She wonders if he can see her raised eyebrow in the dark. "I don't joke." He looks at his master, clearly unable to make this decision for himself. Qui-Gon seems as shocked as he when he shrugs and says, "You heard the duchess." As Obi-Wan stands, Satine moves as far to the side of the bed as possible. Qui-Gon shifts closer to her, bending his knees toward the ceiling so that his feet don't hang off the edge. Obi-Wan looks like he wants the floor to swallow him up, but he lifts the covers and slides next to Qui-Gon. It's not enough room and as Qui-Gon shifts again to try to give him more room, Satine finds she has no more bed to give. With an "oof!" she finds herself sprawled on the cold floor. "Are you alright, Duchess?" "I knew this wouldn't work," Obi-Wan whines. But from her now experienced vantage point, she knows that anyone of them sleeping on the cold, hard ground isn't an option. She picks herself back up. "Yes," she says stubbornly. "It will." It is how she approaches all problems to be solved: dogged determination and an occasion refusal to acknowledge doubts from other people. Well, if it works . . . She climbs in once more. She wraps her arm over Master Jinn's torso in order to stabilize herself. Obi-Wan teeters on his side, then flings his arm over hers in a similar position. He grabs her arm, but she sees his eyes go wide and then pulls his hand away awkwardly. It's supremely uncomfortable, but it will work. "See?" she says. "What did I say?" The bed groans under their collective weight. "We're going to break this thing." "Nonsense, padawan, you worry too much." The squeaks even out and then cease. She's practically lying on Master Jinn's chest and by necessity, Obi-Wan is doing the same. She'll sleep better knowing that the apprentice Jedi isn't freezing to death on the floor; she doesn't know if she can say the same for his master, who seems like he's trying not to breathe too hard lest he cause one of them to fall off the bed again. Still, they'll all make it through the night, unconventional as this solution is. So, problem solved. Almost. There is still one particular matter she can't rectify. "You both smell like the backside of a bantha." "Well," Obi-Wan says, "at least we're in good company." Qui-Gon snorts. Satine smacks Obi-Wan upside his head, which is close enough to hers that she can see the smile in his eyes. She grins back.

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- Chapter 28- An Obitine Story (almost content warning?)

Satine was overjoyed and terrified when she heard the news. She was sitting in a meeting with the Ruling Council when Obi-Wan called.

“Satine?”

The Duchess stood and excused herself.

“Mara and Tristan are safe,” Obi-Wan began calmly, “and-”

“Korkie?”

“They were holding him on a different planet, a Separatist World.”

Satine dropped the comm.

“Your Grace?”

“Parna,” Satine turned, “tell the Ruling Council that Tristan Wren and Mara Supreis have been saved.”

There were tears of joy from Ursa Wren, and congratulations for the safety of Parna’s niece.

“And the Duke of Sundari?”

Satine hadn’t realized she’d been staring at the wall, so she picked up her broken comm and returned to the council chamber.

“My apologies, Your Grace.” Count Awuad offered.

It was evident on her face then, Korkie had not been rescued.

“My,” Satine swallowed, “my Korkie, they’re holding him on a Seperatist world.”

“Where?” The Duchess let her eyes fall to the comm in her hand.

“Oh, Satine,” Ursa stood, “I’m so sorry.” 

“If Mandalore’s heir is not returned alive-”

“Silence,” Satine bellowed, “he will be.”

“Your Grace,” Countess Bralor continued, “you will likely need to produce an heir.”

Satine would’ve told them then and there, if Parna had not interjected and offered to fix her comm.

“Yes, thank you, Parna.”

“It would benefit Dooku if the Duke dies,” Countess Saxon ventured, “you have-”

“I could never marry the Count after this.” Satine countered.

“We should think about possible suitors,” Countess Eldar advised, “and the engagement should be officially broken off.”

“I agree.” Prime Minister Djarin added, as if Satine would disagree with the notion.

“We’ll set up a press conference, when the Duke of Sundari has been returned,” Satine decided, “in the meantime, I think we should all keep an eye on the news.”

“The-”

“Breaking,” Count Awuad’s comm beeped, “the mystery Sith Lord has been found!”

Countess Bralor raised an eyebrow. So did Satine.

“If the Jedi have their hands full,” Count Mudhorn frowned, “then what do we do about the Duke?”

“Perhaps if we help Death Watch, they will help us.” Satine suggested.

After the meeting, Satine was on her way to find Parna when Countess Bralor and Countess Saxon stopped her.

“A word, please, Your Grace?”

“Of course.”

A Countess walked on either side of the Duchess, looping their arms through hers.

“We have heard a rumor that may interest you,” Countess Bralor began, “it is about the line of succession.”

“Oh?”

“The Vizsla Clan and many in the underworld believe,” Countess Saxon interjected, “that you have children, and that they were the four teenagers taken by Darth Maul.”

Satine opened her mouth to defend herself.

“We are neither agreeing nor denying this rumor,” Countess Bralor continued, “but it is very dangerous.”

“I agree,” Satine nodded, “are there any other pieces to this rumor?”

“Some say,” Countess Saxon added, “that their father is none other than Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The Duchess gasped at that.

“This rumor has much credence to it,” Countess Bralor frowned, “there are no adoption records for Tristan Wren, Mara Supreis doesn’t have her adoptive father’s coloring, and the Duke-”

“Ridiculous.” Satine growled.

“We are only warning you, Duchess,” Countess Saxon held up her hands, “times have changed since Queen Mara’s time.”

Satine nodded, “Thank you.”

Parna had fixed her comm, and the first call Satine made on it was to her sister.

“How can I help?” Bo-Katan asked.

“It’s you I’m worried about,” Satine frowned, “and these rumors.”

“You need evidence,” the warrior advised, “and I need a win.”

“What kind of a win?” the Duchess asked.

“You could always try to find out where Korkie is being hidden,” Satine offered, “prove your an opponent to worry about.”

“That’s a you problem-”

“Bo-”

“No,” the Lady shook her head, “I could never win that.”

“The Vizslas have criminal connections in the underworld, they’ve been spreading this rumor,” Satine suggested, “you could kill the contacts and stage the bodies.”

Bo-Katan looked pleased, “I like how you’ve changed sister.”

Satine squirmed, “Being a mother has made me so.”

“Ah, yes, how many was it?”

“Six.”

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Bo-”

“Who would’ve thought?”

“Bo?”

“What?”

Satine opened and closed her mouth, “If I die-”

“You won’t.”

“My children, Bo,” Satine swallowed, “they’ll need help.”

Lady Bo-Katan Kryze was silent for a long time.

“Alright.”

Satine sobbed.

“Oh, ew.”

“Sorry, sorry,” the Duchess wiped her eyes, “good luck with your endeavors.”

Parna returned with Ursa Wren soon after Satine had finished her call.

“Your Grace.” the countess curtsied.

“The false DNA tests and birth certificate-” “I have them, and copies.” Ursa replied.

“Send me the copies,” Satine ordered, “we’ll release them when the rumors are written down.”

Within two days, those rumors gained footing and appeared in every Mandalorian gossip column. Fortunately for the Duchess, she was ready, two hours after Satine read the morning paper, Tristan Wren’s DNA test and birth certificate were released, as well as that of Mara Supreis. Tyra was quoted as saying the Jedi were her only family, and a statement from the Duchess herself reminded everyone that she raised her nephew out of familial love and duty.

“Such drama this will cause if it ever gets out.” Parna observed.

“It won’t,” Khaami stated, “the Duchess has done well thus far.”

Satine apprepricated that, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“Your Grace?”

Satine turned, Gorg was in his civilian clothes.

“Would you do me the honor of a final walk?” asked the foreigner guard.

The Duchess smiled, “Of course.”

They walked through the gardens, Khaami and Parna trailing at a distance.

“The said I should be the one to tell you-”

“Tell me what?” Satine wondered aloud.

Gorg smiled, “The Jedi Council commed just this morning, Korkie has been saved.”

“Oh,” Satine shook, beginning to bawl, “that is the most wonderful news.”

The former guard caught Satine as she slipped towards the floor. Her ladies ran up to her.

“Korkie is safe,” the Duchess breathed, “Korkie is safe!”

“He’s on Coruscant,” Gorg continued, “the Jedi are seeing to him.”

Parna helped Satine stand and the Duchess began to cry on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Gorg,” Khaami nodded, “we are most joyous at this news.”

“Thank you,” Gorg replied, “for all your kindness in my departure.”

The former guard kissed Satine’s hand one last time and left, then the Duchess made her way to her rooms.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Parna smiled.

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “Khaami, please tell the Ruling Council.”

“Of course.”

Later that day, the Duchess held a short press conference to announce that the Duke of Sundari was safe.

“We don’t have all the details,” she stated, grinning, “but he is alive and healing among the safety of friends.”

Applause broke out from the reporters.

“Moreover,” Satine continued, “I would like to officially announce the dissolution of my engagement to Count Dooku.”

Cheers went up from a couple of attendants, which pleased the Duchess very much.

Satine stood, “Thank you for your time.”

That evening, the Duchess personally flew to Coruscant with Tyra to see her secret sons and daughter.

“It’s going to be okay, Lady Mother.” Tyra whispered, reaching for Satine’s hand.

“I just,” the Duchess sighed, “I can’t wait to see them.”

Inside the Jedi Temple, a line of masters were waiting to greet them. Master Secura embraced Satine and Tyra, saying they had both been so courageous.

“But so have you,” the Duchess smiled, “thank you for helping save my children.”

Master Mundi was next, and he gave a similar reception.

“Although,” he smiled, “next time you realize our children are courting, do let me know.”

Satine laughed, “Naturally.”

Master Yoda was the kindest of all, praising Tyra in his personal way and congratulating the Duchess with sincere happiness.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine curtsied, “my family is pleased to be reunited.”

“Follow me, you must,” the Jedi grinned, “to see your children and their father.”

“I would very much appreciate that.”

Mara and Tristan were sitting up in bed, each holding a bundle in their arms.

“Oh, oh, my children!”

Satine kissed each of the twins on the head, even Jynn and Lyra.

“Look how big you’ve gotten,” Satine cooed to the little ones, “do you know how brave your big brothers and sisters are?”

“Very brave indeed,” Obi-Wan walked in, “and there’s much to talk about.”

“Oh, Ben,” Satine huffed, “let them rest.”

Korkie had his arm in a sling and his face was bruised, “Mama-”

“Shh, darling,” Satine rushed over to her heir, “you must rest.”

“Mother-”

Satine grasped her son’s hand, “Yes?”

“He wants to tell you he’s happy to see you,” Tyra translated, “I can feel it in his mind.”

Satine kissed her son’s hand.

“Tell us what happened, can you?” Master Yoda asked.

“We all have different stories.” Tyra blushed.

Jynn gurgled and Satine moved to pick her up.

“Children,” the Duchess goaded, “I think you should tell Master Yoda your stories, however different they may be.”

Tyra began, telling about how she was left on Count Dooku’s ship.

“I was quite surprised when Je’er came,” Tyra swallowed, “I was surprised he cared.”

“Young Master Palpatine has been helpful,” Obi-Wan stated, “we have his father in custody, he’s quite the public speaker.”

The Duchess’ eldest daughter’s head snapped towards Tristan, “That’s not funny.”

Mara giggled, and Lyra harrumphed, Satine picked up the other twin in her arms, wondering what the children were on about. 

Obi-Wan burst forward to help, “Darling-”

Jynn raised her hands up to her father and squealed.

“Oh, look, Ben, she wants you to hold her.”

“Alright then, Jynn.”

“Tristan and I were held on Mustafar,” Mara jumped into the silence, “they wanted to study us as scientific specimens.”

“But why split you up?” Satine asked.

“To test us?” Tristan hesitated.

Tyra walked about and took Korkie’s good hand, nodding.

“They were surprised at Korkie’s ability,” her eyes watered, “they tried to get into his mind.”

The Duchess was filled with rage, her children were bruised and battered by this Sith Lord, she hated him.

“-and he thinks they were also testing Je’er.”  Tyra concluded.

Satine clenched her jaw, she would like some words with this Sith Lord.

“Tired, you must be,” Master Yoda observed, “show you to your rooms, Master Kenobi shall.”

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine asked, “and will my daughters be able to stay with me?”

“Put in cribs, Senator Amidala has.”

The Duchess smiled, “I shall have to thank her.”

Her room was in the Senate rooms building, but close to the Jedi Temple. There were twin cribs, a warm bed, and a nice smelling fresher.

“Satine!”

“Oh, Padme,” the Duchess kissed both of the Senator’s cheeks, “you’ve been so kind.”

“I helped!” Anakin added, setting down a stack of towels.

Obi-Wan snorted, “I’m sure you did.”

Lyra squealed when she saw Padme and the Senator was thrilled.

“Oh, Anakin, look at her tiny fingers!” she cooed.

“Um-”

“And her little eyeses, aren’t you cute, Lyra?”

Lyra giggled.

“We’ll let you sleep,” Anakini decided, half-dragging Padme out, “the twins must be tired.”

Padme waved, “Bye-bye, babies.”

Satine made Lyra wave.

“Uh,” she sniffed, “change time.”

The Duchess made towards the fresher.

“Satine, I can do that.”

“No no,” Satine scolded, “I’m their mother, I should do this.”

It was messy, and Obi-Wan actually had to help her.

“You know,” Satine stated, “I generally left Korkie to his nanny when this happened.”

“That was my guess.” Obi-Wan agreed, setting Lyra down in her crib and picking up Jynn.

Satine was suddenly sad, “Did Tyra have a good childhood? I know Tristan had a nanny and Mara had a step-father.”

“I’m sure she did,” Obi-Wan assured, handing Satine a clean diaper, “I had a great childhood here.”

“That’s good to know,” the Duchess smiled, going misty-eyed, “I love them all so much.”

“I love them too.” Obi-Wan agreed.

Jynn went in her crib too, and Satine washed her hands.

“Ben,” Satine sensed with her back turned, “you have a question.”

“Am I staying,” Obi-Wan asked quietly, “because if you’re not-”

“Why wouldn't I be,” Satine shrugged, “Obi, we have six children.”

The Jedi gave a sheepish smile, “We do.”

“You’re staying with me for the rest of our lives.”

Obi-Wan kissed Satine, “I’m glad to hear it.”

The Duchess fell asleep very quickly cuddling with her Jedi, Obi-Wan didn’t, he listened to her breathing and thought about how lucky he was. When Satine woke up, her Jedi was meditating and the twins were resting, having woken up only once in the night.

“Morning, love.”

“Good morning, Obi,” Satine sat up, “where did Anakin leave the extra towels?”

“In a messy pile on the floor,” Obi-Wan answered, “are you interested in showering?”

“I am.”

The Jedi grinned, opening his eyes, “I’ll join you.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Will you?”

Obi-Wan bounced up, searching for kisses like a little puppy.

The Duchess sighed, “As long as we don’t wake the twins.”

The shower water was nice and warm, and Obi-Wan was very happy to have a moment alone with his Duchess.

“Is this,” he asked, his hands trailing her hips, “from the children?”

“Yes,” Satine nodded, hands on her stomach, “and I’m afraid so is this.”

Obi-Wan kissed his Duchess, “You’re beautiful, Satine, so beautiful.”

“Ben, please,-”

“You are,” the Jedi insisted, kissing Satine’s neck, “and we’re going to be together forever.”

Satine smiled, “Of course we are.”

One of the twins cried then, and the couple both dried off to tend to the little ones. Ben was out first, so Satine had time to dry her hair fully before dressing.

“Where’s your lady?” Obi-Wan asked, opening Satine’s bags.

“Helping stabilize Mandalore,” the Duchess answered, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a rumor going round that the children taken belonged to us.”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Satine scoffed, “we can handle it.”

“But your people will be upset.” Obi-Wan protested.

“Not as upset as I would be if we couldn’t be together.” Satine countered.

Obi-Wan gave a wholeful smile to his Duchess.

“What?”

“I’m so glad I’m leaving the Order when the war ends.”

“Well,” Satine teased, “make sure you finish it quickly then.”

Obi-Wan was actually very helpful with Satine’s corset, which she couldn’t do up on her own. 

“Why-”

“To hide the fact that I gave birth five months ago,” Satine explained, “also, I’m not as thin as I once was.”

Obi-Wan clicked his tongue, “Oh, Satine.”

“Six children, Ben,” the Duchess wagged her finger, “I know who’s responsible.”

The Jedi laughed, “Glad to know you care, darling.”

Obi-Wan was also kind enough to help Satine into her dress and button the back.

“You do this every day?” he asked, bewildered.

“Today is a nicer dress,” Satine smiled down at her green and gold ensemble, “because I’m visiting a planet.”

“Ah.”

Obi-Wan got dressed while Satine fixed her hair, and soon enough, the day began.

“What’s happening for you today?” she asked, picking up Jynn.

“Lots of explaining to the public about what happened over the last couple days,” the Jedi answered, “and then protecting the senate from these new Seperatist attacks.”

Satine groaned, “Sounds full.”

“You?”

“I have to bring Korkie, Mara, and Tristan home,” Satine frowned, “but I have the morning to speak to senators about Mandalore’s new position.”

“Just as droll, honestly.” Obi-Wan stated, picking up Lyra.

“See you for lunch?” Satine asked hopefully.

“I’ll meet you here,” the Jedi agreed, “with food.”

Obi-Wan took the twins back to the other Jedi younglings while Satine went in search of Padme.

“Hi, Momdalore!”

“Ahsoka,” Satine smiled, “good to see you.”

“I’m supposed to accompany you around,” the Padawan clapped, “I’m so excited.”

The Duchess gave Ahsoka the side eye, “I hope you don’t mind schmoozing senators.” 

“Actually,” the Padawan winked, “I smooch Padme all the time.”

Satine laughed, “Not quite, Ahsoka.”

“So,” Ahsoka goaded in a sing-song voice, “do you have any new news, Satine?”

“No, Ahsoka,” the Duchess scolded, “no more for me.”

“Aw, but you make the cutest babies with-”

“Ahsoka!”

The Padawan burst into laughter. Satine sighed.

“You and Anakin think you’re so funny.”

“We are,” Ahsoka assured, “have you heard the story about the time my Master covered the temple in balloons for Master Yoda’s birthday?”

Satine found herself mildly amused, “Did something terrible happen?”

“Yes, terribly hilarious!”

“Then that’s all I need to know, however,” Satine grinned, “if you ever need a funny story, ask your grandmaster about the time we hid in a house of ill repute while on the run.”

Ahsoka’s eyes went wide, “No?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” the Padawan shook her head, “you must tell the best drunk stories, Momdalore.”

“I don’t get drunk, Ahsoka.” Satine replied.

Ahsoka frowned.

“But if I did,” the Duchess winked, “someone better warn Master Kenobi.”

Ahsoka giggled.

“If I may ask,” Bail Organa approached, Padme on his arm, “what’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” the Duchess and Padawan agreed simultaneously.

“Well then,” Padme smiled, “why don’t we round up some Senators and discuss politics.”

“Why don’t we?” Satine agreed.

The Duchess was very much looking forward to lunch after hours of pleasant conversation and polite nodding, and apparently, so was Obi-Wan.

“Darling,” he opened the door for her, “do come in.”

Satine gasped. A beautiful table was set up with candles and napkins and Satine’s favorite juice which was a terribly expensive import. The curtains were drawn to give them privacy, but the Duchess had to laugh at the food.

“Dex’s Diner.” she shook her head.

“Gotta love ‘em.” Obi-Wan agreed, pulling Satine inside.

The food was actually delicious, the Duchess could not lie.

“Is this where you go after late nights of saving the galaxy?” Satine questioned.

“Uh huh,” Obi-Wan nodded, mouth full, “where do you go?”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “The palace kitchens.”

“Oh.”

The Duchess snorted.

“Careful, darling,” Obi-Wan teased, “soon you’ll lose all your manners and end up like us Jedi.”

“Oh, I could never,” Satine gestured, “I don’t have an uncivilized luminescent wand.”

The Jedi rolled his eyes, the Duchess stuffed herself with more breakfast food.

“You know,” Obi-Wan began, “our children might have uncivilized luminescent wands.”

“They will not,” Satine crossed her arms, “you’ll make sure of that.”

“Will I?”

“Yes,” the Duchess sighed, “because I have had enough of this force nonsense and I’m delegating you to oversee our children’s education in that field.”

Obi-Wan glowed, “Really?”

Satine smiled, “Yes, Ben.” 

“Uncivilized luminescent wands it is,” Obi-Wan clapped, “can I get you some more juice?”

“Please.”

They ate in happy silence before Satine burst out.

“They delayed our ship,” she grinned, “we’re not leaving till four.”

“More time together,” Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled, “I wonder what we’ll do?”

“Obi!”

“Just saying,” the Jedi shrugged, “uncivilized wands and all.”

Satine acted horrified, “Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

“Not sorry.” the Jedi winked.

The Duchess played along, “Where do you have to be?” 

“A defense detail, but Anakin can cover for me.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “He’ll want a reason.”

Obi-Wan clicked his tongue, “I wonder what I’ll say.”

Finishing her meal, the Duchess stood and knelt before Obi-Wan.

“Well, shall we get on with it, then?”

“Certainly,” Obi-Wan undid his robes, “but I won’t be kind.”

Satine sighed, “How chivalrous.”

[cinna-wanroll]

Obi and Ahsoka being an iconic duo for however long it takes you to read this

Long hyperspace journeys could stretch on for days, with nothing but the white noise and the whir of the ship’s engines to keep the occupants any company.

But eventually, there reached a point where the giddy anticipation was lost into a stagnant period of waiting. 

And so there sat Obi-Wan Kenobi four days into hyperspace, waiting. 

He was usually a very patient man, years of training a young, rambunctious Anakin Skywalker had required that much of him. And he was still patient. Yet something inside him was stirring, the nagging doubts not leaving him alone. So while The Negotiator tore through warped space, his window of time to figure things out was closing. 

And here it was, his great doubt; how much longer he would be able to save those he was assigned to protect. His ship was hurdling at a speed faster than even light could travel towards a world in turmoil, and he- a mere man- was expected to fix it. The hopes, dreams, and futures dreams of an entire civilization depended on him.

He shivered and wondered how the lives of innocent people could constantly pour across his hands and slip away if he wasn’t careful. The knowledge that he was responsible for them was sometimes too much of a weight to bear alone- another reason why he valued his battalion so much. Their support was always constant, their determination and reassurances making him stronger. 

But that still left the question; why was he responsible? His chest tightened as he knew he shouldn’t be, but it wasn’t his place to decide, and he would never leave any being to suffer. 

A deep breath calmed his mind as he sat upon his bunk with crossed legs, letting the cool airflow help guide him into a deep state of meditation. He rested his palms against his knees, instantly falling into the stance he’d practiced since he was a boy. 

In place of his worry and fear came a tide of clarity that the Force provided- a place where all things had an equal purpose. He smiled softly and sank into that familiar peace, deepening his connection to the Force with every moment.

About five minutes into his practice, the door to his room zipped open without warning, quick footsteps following after. He didn’t get up, but he did open his eyes slowly, consciousness slowly returning to the Jedi master. 

He’d expected to see Anakin, perhaps even Cody on a busy day where he forgot to knock, but not Ahsoka. He blinked in surprise as she entered his quarters with a friendly smile. 

“Hey master,” she greeted, joining him in his bunk. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Padawan Tano,” he nodded as she sat down, “I don’t suppose you’ve forgotten how to knock?” 

She blushed slightly, dipping her head in embarrassment, “Apologies master, I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just Master Skywalker-”

Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched into a slight grin as he finished, “Hardly ever follows any basic courtesies, I know.” 

She returned his smile shyly, nodding.

“So, what can I do for you, padawan?” He turned to give her his full attention, uncrossing his legs and putting himself into a more relaxed position. 

She sighed, laying back on the low bed, “Master Skywalker’s been having me review these stupid holos for hours now-” she brought her hands to the side of her head in exasperation, “and if I see one more blasted star chart I think I might just defect to the CIS.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, “I can’t say I blame you- Master Qui-Gon used to make me study every map of every planet of every system until it felt like I knew the layout of the entire galaxy.”

Ahsoka giggled, sitting up and resting her head on her knees, expecting him to continue the story. 

“What’s more- I used to have to write every single report on every mission because the council wouldn’t stop complaining about Qui-Gon’s versions.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief, “What? Why?”

He tipped his head slightly, giving her a conspiratorial look, “Something about them being too full of,” he adjusted his tone until it was just slightly more regal sounding, “personal ideals and passionate phrases not appropriate to include in professional documents.”

‘Well,” she shrugged, “that does sound like the council.” 

He ignored the slight offense and continued, “Yes, but I gave them all a run for their money. My reports were all no shorter than fifty pages each, detailing every breeze that blew while we traveled,” a mischievous spark lit his eyes as he finished.

“Ah, so that's why it takes you forever during mission debriefs,” Ahsoka grinned, “you developed some bad habits.”

“Hey,” he chided while she laughed, “at least I don’t exaggerate, hmm?”

“What's the fun of an adventure without stories to tell, Master?” She countered, crossing her arms in mock-defense. 

“Certainly stories are plenty exciting without all the extra flare you add?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Eh, I like to give them my personal touch.”

They both smiled, Ahsoka laying back down and Obi-Wan resting his back against his bedpost. 

They fell into a comfortable silence before Obi-Wan confessed, “I’ve been quite bored as well, trapped in here without anyone to talk to. Everyone’s just so-” he searched for the right word.

“Preoccupied? Distant? Distracted? Absent?” Ahsoka filled in for him.

He nodded, surprised, “Precisely. I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining about everyone finally doing what they’re supposed to. But it makes me wonder- should I be taking this more seriously? Do I have a right to stay in my room, waiting aimlessly to arrive? Or should I be doing something?” 

She paused before responding, “Well, what can you do?”

He opened his mouth as if he already knew the exact answer to that question before he realized that he didn’t at all. 

“I- I’m not quite sure.”

She nodded and sat up, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“I think sometimes in war, you have to accept the fact that there isn’t anything you can do at the moment. You can worry and stress, but in the end, it only serves to hurt yourself and those around you than save anyone else.” 

He looked over at her, studying Anakin’s young apprentice as though he hadn’t seen her in a while. It made him feel- weird, to see how much she was growing. But a thread of warmth came with it, a sense of pride he hadn’t expected.

“That’s a very wise observation, Ahsoka,” he said finally, nodding to her.

His praise made her perk up a bit and smile, as eager to please as ever, “thank you, Master Kenobi.”

He nodded and returned her look, deciding he wanted to get away from his shadowed room for a bit, “Do you feel like playing a friendly game of sabacc, padawan? I’m sure we've got a deck of cards around here somewhere.” 

She got to her feet swiftly, stretching as he followed suit, “Sure! Although, Master- I don’t think there’s such a thing as a,” she held up her hands in air quotes, “friendly game of sabacc. People always have ulterior motives.”

He chuckled as they walked towards the entryway into the corridors beyond his room, “A common-found truth, yes,” he began as they stepped out of the room, “your master has taught you well.” 

She shrugged, “There are also some things that have to be learned on one’s own.”

“Oh?”  He asked, “And how would you have learned such a thing?”

She grinned and shrugged, “But Master, I thought you said my stories had too much flare.”

“Oh no, now I’m far too intrigued to care. Please elaborate.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you- but only if you beat me.”

He grinned, “You’re on, padawan.” 

When they entered the main quarters, they were greeted with an almost eerie silence and empty space, all furniture and objects long since neglected.  

“Wow,” Ahsoka mused, “I never thought this room could be so- quiet.”

“Me neither,” Obi-Wan agreed, looking around for a drawer or any sign of a compartment for a deck of cards. 

“I know we have a deck,” she added as Kenobi walked over to the small shelf of datapads they kept from previous missions, “I just saw Crys, Wooley, and Kano playing last night.”

“Hmm,” he said, fingers tracing along the backs of each pad carefully, checking to see if anyone had decided to place the deck in between some of the holos like they usually did.

“They might’ve put them in one of the holo chess compartments,” she suggested after he stood back and shook his head.

He sighed, knowing she was probably right, “But I’ve asked them not to put the deck back in there at least five times now.”

Ahsoka shrugged, unbothered, “Maybe they forgot.”

He looked back at her disbelievingly, “Five times?”

She threw her hands up, “I don’t know. Have you met Wooley? I don’t think he ever fully recovered from that concussion.”

He laughed and pressed the holo chess compartment gently, frowning as sure enough, the deck of cards appeared. 

“It appears you’re right,” Obi-Wan said, sitting down on one end of the table and unboxing the cards, “sixth time’s the charm.”

She took her place at the opposite end, grinning, “I’m sure they’ll get it this time.”

“Do you know how to shuffle?” He asked, looking up at her.

“Do we have to?” She asked, surprised.

“Yes. It appears they were playing Mahaa’i Shuur- all of the mistresses are next to each other, I haven't looked at the rest of the deck yet.”

“Okay,” she said, reaching her hand out for the deck.

He sat back while she focused on shuffling, watching the cards shift around almost hypnotically. 

“Master, you don’t know how to shuffle?”

The question caught him off guard, and he was forced to admit he’d never really thought about it before. 

“I suppose not- everyone usually did the shuffling for me,” he ticked each person off on his fingers, “Master Yoda, Qui-Gon, Master Tahl, Bant, Quinlan, Satine, Anakin, the Clones-”

“Hold on,” Ahsoka interrupted, suddenly looking very amused, “you’re telling me you’ve played cards with Master Yoda?”

He nodded while she dealt out two cards for each of them, and the game began. 

“Yes, many times. He always used to come to visit me in the crèche quite often, and we’d play cards or watch a holo while the other younglings went out to wrestle or play senators.”

He drew a commander card. 

“You two always seemed close,” Ahsoka commented as she took her turn and drew, a slight frown forming on her face, “do you have any idea why?”

“Why what?” He asked distractedly as he drew the queen of the darkness.

“Why he would come to visit you.”

Obi-Wan tipped his head, trying to think, “Actually, now that you mention it, no. He used to come to visit me when I was a small infant, I still have memories of him from the age of three.”

Ahsoka wrinkled her nose and teased, “does that mean Master Yoda used to change your diapers?”

Obi-Wan returned her disgusted expression, “I don’t know, and I have no intention of finding out.”

She laughed, moving part of her hand to one side. 

She organizes her cards by value, he realized, narrowing his gaze. 

The door to the room opened, letting in two familiar faces as they both continued to draw. 

“And that’s why I was-” Anakin stopped mid-sentence as he saw Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, concentrating on their game. Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Rex salute. 

“General. Commander.”

“Hi,” Ahsoka looked up at him briefly, “we were just talking about how Master Yoda used to change Obi-Wan’s diapers when he was a youngling.”

Obi-Wan’s face reddened, and he stared at his cards, not brave enough to look up. 

“We were not.”

Ahsoka shrugged, moving another card to the left of her hand, “I don’t know, sounded that way to me.”

Anakin crossed his arms at Ahsoka, “Yeah, well it sounded to me like I told you to study those holos earlier.”

“I did,” she protested, “but you gave me so many that my head started to swim!” 

“Those holos are important,” Anakin persisted, “and that doesn’t excuse why you’re out here playing cards with Obi-Wan instead of doing your meditations.”

Ahsoka sighed, laying down her hand, “Yes, Master.” 

“Come now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan chided without looking up from his hand, fourteen away from winning, “surely after all those times you used to whine at me about even basic form, you can allow your padawan a break.”

Ahsoka looked up at her master hopefully, who had turned his glower on his old master. 

“Fine,” he determined finally, “but as soon as you’re done, you go straight back to those holos, understand?”

Ahsoka smiled gratefully, “Yes, Master.”

Anakin walked up behind her chair, gazing at her hand. Obi-Wan looked up to scrutinize over what Anakin’s expression was like, but to his disappointment his former apprentice’s face belied nothing. He frowned, wondering when Anakin learned to become such a formidable card player.

A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Senator Amidala was an esteemed and practiced Sabacc player, but he quickly banished the inkling, drawing another card. 

The Star, blast. 

Rex did the same as Anakin, coming up and watching over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

After a few more rounds, Obi-Wan had almost forgotten he was there. So when he drew a card that let him win within -17 points, the Jedi almost jumped when Rex said, “I’ll bet one of my pistols Kenobi wins.”

He repressed an eye roll, only shaking his head and drawing the idiot, zero points. 

“Which one?” Asked Anakin, looking up at Rex. 

“Eh, the good one.”

“Hmm- how about, whoever loses the bet gets shiny training duty for a month, and your pistol?”

“Deal.”

Obi-Wan held up the idiot card as though he were comparing it to Anakin, and Rex chuckled softly.

“What?”

“Nothing sir.”

The game continued, with Obi-Wan just -2 points away from winning when Ahsoka slammed her cards down enthusiastically, calling “Idiot's Array!” 

Obi-Wan looked over her cards and smiled, setting his hand down, “Well done.”

“Thanks,” she said, high-fiving her master. 

“Gah,” Rex exclaimed, clapping Obi-Wan on the shoulder, “you let me down, general!”

Obi-Wan put up his hands defensively, “Hey, I’m not the one who told you to bet, Captain.” 

Anakin walked up to them, grinning like a fool, “Yeah, but now someone has to train all the new shinies for a whole month! Ha, that’s for making me walk around the temple in my bathing suit last weekend.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up, “Wh-”

He was cut off by the beeping of his comm. He gave Anakin a death glare before opening the transmission with a tap, mouthing the words this conversation is not over.

“Yes, Commander?”

“We’ve arrived, sir.”

“Very good Cody. We’ll be right down.”

He cut the transmission and started towards the door, the others following closely behind to the bridge.

Ahsoka did a merry little skip, coming up to walk beside Obi-Wan and Anakin, smirking. 

“Looks like I won’t have to do those map studies after all,” she boasted.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to groan- you shouldn’t have said anything, Ahsoka. 

His old apprentice smirked right back at the young Togruta, “Don’t worry padawan, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time on the surface for you to do some analyzing.”

She groaned and turned towards the hallway that led to her room, “I’m going to pick up my shoto.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said, cutting off Anakin before he could start to argue, “but be prompt- I expect we’ll be departing within the next ten minutes.”

She met his gaze and nodded happily, before running off to grab her lightsaber.

“Now,” Obi-Wan began, rounding on Anakin, “what is this I hear of you strutting around in your bathing suit around temple grounds last weekend?” 

[nkatr84]

Obi Wan/female reader oneshot Part 2

Waiting

Let’s shift the POV to Obi Wan’s shall we? (P.s. This is like the first fanfic I’ve written in years, first Star Wars one, first time writing Obi Wan, first reader fic and the first fanfic I published on tumblr. Enjoy!)

Obi Wan would never forget the day he met you. One minute he had been ready to take his seat in the booth at the diner of Master Qui Gon’s old friend. The next he was catching you in his arms and the stopping the milkshakes mid air.

Your eyes had caught him off guard. He had never met anyone outside the temple that eyes just glowed with the light side of the Force like yours did. And he certainly had never met a girl outside the temple that made him blush when you looked at him. He had found himself watching you every few minutes.

Master Qui Gon had noticed.

“Pretty isn’t she Padawan?” He had asked Obi Wan as they were leaving the diner.

Obi Wan had blushed again at being caught trying to stare at you until the last possible moment. He had shrugged,

“I suppose she is.”

“Obi Wan I’m not going to send you back to the Agricore for being a teenage boy noticing a pretty girl!” Qui Gon had laughed throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“But such actions lead to attachments don’t they Master?” Obi Wab had asked.

Qui Gon gave him a smirk,

“If you’re lucky my Boy.”

Seeing his confusion, Qui Gon had sighed. Forbidding attachments may work for some Jedi, but Qui Gon believed in the Force. That the Force was about finding balance. To not fear the Dark side nor let it consume you. That trillions of beings loved and had families every day because the Force willed it. It was just Life.

“It’s natural. To desire. To want. To love.” Qui Gon told him.

“But the Jedi are supposed to be above such things.”

“Obi Wan, I know you’re dead set on being the perfect Jedi, but maybe you can pretend I might know what I’m talking about?” Qui Gon quipped.

“Sorry Master.”

Obi Wan began to suspect that Qui Gon kept taking him back to the diner just to force him to gawk at you. Especially when he prompted him to talk to you. But he knew nothing about girls outside of the temple. You didn’t know anything about lightsaber techniques or mediation or the Jedi texts. Your shy smile sure did make his palms sweat though. He kept to small talk less he make a fool of himself.

When Qui Gon started taking him on more missions, he hoped he could focus back on his training rather than the way his heart began to pound when he saw you.

Then he met Satine. She was so different than you. Much more serious . Yet quick to tease him. More vocal. More passionate. She taught him how to flirt. Making him come to the conclusion that you must not be interested in him. That he had imagined your interest.

And after getting separated from Qui Gon and forced out on the run from the various bounty hunters after her, he soon would trust Satine with his life. She started to question if he liked Mandalore, despite its politics. Talk about the future. Their future together. He got used to the idea of sharing his life with someone. It sounded nice.

Yet...it was always Satine’s plans when she spoke of the future. As if she just assumed he would drop everything to be with her. He tried not to let it bother him. But it was a bit frustrating because she didn’t presume he would leave the Order either. She was a bit contrary that way.

And while the rush of adventure and survival fueled their romance, he has a hard time picturing a quiet moment with Satine. To just be Satine and Obi Wan. That’s when he would wonder what you were doing back on Corescant.

So it was inevitable when the running ended and he finally lowered his inhabitions to kiss Satine. Only to sigh your name. Satine had shoved him in a lake.

Also inevitable was going back to the diner as soon as he returned. But he felt too guilty to tell you of his adventures. Guilty because he still liked you. While also having feelings for Satine. A guilt that returned every time he saw Satine again and vice versa.

So he buckled down on his commitment to the Order. To Qui Gon’s chargrin. He soon felt guilty about that after his master’s death. But your faith in him made him feel better. That’s when he allowed himself your friendship.

Over the years he stayed just outside your orbit. Far enough away to not tempt himself. Yet close enough to see that you didn’t have a high opinion of yourself. That you thought yourself plain and dull. You just worked too much that’s all. Which was saying a lot coming from him.

Satine also came back into his life. Multiple times over the years. And his feelings for the Duchess of Mandalore were just as strong as what he felt for you. Even to a point that he confessed he would have left the Order for her, if she had asked. Never letting Satine know he’d do the same for you.

Finding out you had to work extra jobs to survive stirred up his longing to take care of you. The sight of you in that dress stirred up a different kind of longing. A longing that made the damn war more tolerable at any rate.

He was old enough at that point to admit he loved your figure. Somewhere Qui Gon was saying, “I told you so”. Anakin did so in person.

“Nice dress huh Master?” Anakin had asked over the music that night. Infuriating smirk on his mug.

“Shut up Anakin.” He had told him. The clones weren’t much better. Wondering why a cute girl like you was still single. Saying they wouldn’t mind coming home to a girl like you. Sentiments he reluctantly but silently admitted to himself that he shared. Maybe that’s why he had kissed your cheek that night. To test the waters as it were.

Yet when he was tasked to go undercover as Hardeen he took the plunge. For the first time in his life he could pretend to be an ordinary man. Granted Hardeen wasn’t much to look at, but making you blush by openly calling you pretty made all the difference.

When he heard you confess that you returned his feelings, he couldn’t stop himself. He tried to explain. Explain how he was pulled in three different directions. Explain what drew him to you. Yet still kept finding himself back in that diner. Back to you.

Then Anakin and his impeccable timing had all but stopped him from revealing his identity to you. Without a moment to spare Obi Wan took one last risk. He kissed you.

He swore he had become one with the Force that moment. You just felt right. He would hold on to that moment all through his mission. Promising himself to confess everything once he got back. And he did.

He just hadn’t counted on how he had hurt you.

He still had his command and the war to think about. Even indulging in Satine’s company again. But anytime he had leave he would walk in Dex’s, looking for your face. Worried you had quit, Obi Wan asked Dex about you.

“You know Obi Wan. I don’t know much about being a Jedi. But I do know that kid has been waiting for you for twenty years to figure out that’s she’s in love with you. Every since that day you had caught her when she tripped.

But she knows how important the Order is to you. How much good you do. She doesn’t think that she’s important enough to compete with the Force. Let alone a Duchess. Doesn’t even think she’s important enough to live life outside of work. She just survives.

But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want respect. And unless you respect that girl for who she is you can forget about me helping you get back in her good graces.” Dex had lectured.

“I understand.” Obi Wan had sighed making to go.

No sooner had he stood, Dex had stopped him, saying while stroking his chin,

“Now if I were to get sick one day, I’d have to call my best waitress in on her day off to close the diner. One day being...Tuesday?”

Obi Wan had smiled conspiredingly,

“Here’s to your health then my friend.”

But he didn’t make it to Tuesday. Satine had called for his help. Darth Maul had returned. Imprisoning her and taking the throne of Mandalore for himself.

He saw Satine’s face everywhere for months after she died. Even in battle he just went through the motions. He avoided the diner altogether. Woke from nightmares of Satine lying in his arms confessing her love with her dying breath.

Until one night, she had chuckled and smiled, telling him,

“Obi Wan. I’m not the only one who loves you. I know now you’ve been torn between us. Don’t make my mistake my Love. Tell her how you feel. No disguises. No half truths. Just you. Believe me. You’re more than enough.”

“I promise.” He swore, kissing her fingers.

“And do hurry my Love. Something is coming that will hurt you far more than losing me. Or her. Something terrible.” She warned.

Which is when he finally woke up. He called Dex to make the arrangements. And that was how he found himself sitting across from you. Telling you his decision. He would complete his duty for the War effort then leave the Order. But you surprised him yet again. By telling him you loved him. All of him. Which included his connection to the Force.

When you reminded him how fear of losing someone lead to the Dark Side, Obi Wan swore he saw Qui Gon out of the corner of his eye, a look of approval on his face. But he wasn’t there.

“Right as always my Darling.” He had conceded. Then kissing your hand. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make up for over twenty years of making you wait for him. But Obi Wan Kenobi couldn’t wait to try. Despite the nagging feeling from the Force that their love was not done being tested just yet.

(And...there’s probably going to be a part three...fair warning)

[magicalforcesau]

Fragments of the Garden - Origins - Part 3

A companion collection to Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden

(ao3 link)

Satine started to sit next to Obi-Wan every time she saw him at breakfast. Usually they would break out into an argument five minutes in, but even still he started showing up for breakfast more, and Satine always came back the next day.

It was Cody that had suggested they go find him at lunch hour and Satine had agreed easily, because she definitely noticed despite his appearances at breakfast, lunch and dinner were still another story entirely.

That was how she found herself, carrying two plates of food and following Cody with his plate down the hall to that empty classroom.

“Is this seat taken?” Cody asked shoving a couple of the desks together, surprising Obi-Wan completely.

“I- No?” He answered automatically.

“Good,” Satine responded, “It was a long walk here and I’m hungry,” She set down her plate in front of her and Obi-Wan’s plate in front of him. Cody was already digging into his food and he struck up a conversation with Satine quickly about their Charms homework. Obi-Wan was a little too dumbstruck to join the conversation, but did listen to them talk as he ate the food they’d brought him.

The end of the lunch period drew near and Cody collected Satine’s plate.

“Do you not like desserts or something?” Satine asked, noting the slice of apple pie sitting untouched on Obi-Wan’s plate. Being asked a direct question he responded with a surprised blush.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” He admitted, “My mother says I can’t have any.”

“What? Why not?” Cody asked, surprised. Satine however remembered the women’s icy gaze and stayed quiet.

“She says men don’t like sweets,” He averted his gaze which was very unlike him.

“Well she’s not here right now,” Cody announced, “And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her!”

“Cody’s right,” Satine found herself saying, “Plus he likes dessert so clearly her logic is false,” Obi-Wan opened his mouth, probably to argue when they heard the clamber of students heading their way. They grabbed their bags and Cody grabbed their plates and they headed out.

Satine decided that tomorrow she’d bring him 2 desserts.

***                                            

That night was their first Astronomy lesson. They were supposed to start much, much earlier, but the headmaster had, had a little trouble replacing their professor after the last one had been in some sort of accident. Satine couldn’t get anyone to specify past that, but she suddenly missed not having class when she was rolling out of bed at eleven to head towards the astronomy tower. The first years all went together, and she found herself walking next to Obi-Wan.

“Are you okay Satine?” He had the misfortune to ask, she glared at him, looking absolutely perfect as always.

“Make a note,” She told him, “to never wake me up, unless it’s an emergency,” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure when that would ever be useful information to have, but he stored it away anyways, with a nod.

They all sat on the floor of the tower as the oldest wizard Satine had ever seen, made his way slowly to the front of the class. He was holding a piece of parchment in shaky hands and squinted through his glasses to read it.

“Hello class,” He spoke in a raspy voice and Satine had to wonder if this poor man would even make it through the year, “I’m going to take attendance, please raise your hand when I call your name,” and with that class started.

Satine let her focus wander until he got to the J’s and tuned in right when Kenobi would be called.

“Kenobi,” The professor squinted at the paper, clearly struggling with Obi-Wan’s stupidly wordy first name, “B-Ben?” He decided on. Obi-Wan, who’s ears had gone red, raised his hand.

“It’s Obi-Wan, sir, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” He corrected, Satine could hear the embarrassment seep into his voice and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from snickering.

“Oh, sorry my dear boy,” He moved on quite quickly to, “Kryze, Satine.”

“I’m here,” She raised her hand, laughter coating her voice, and Obi-Wan gave her a sideways glare, but perhaps it had been worth waking up so late anyways.

***                                            

“Good Afternoon, Ben,” Satine greeted him, plunking down his lunch in front of him (two desserts as she’d decided) and sliding a desk over for herself, while Cody did the same.

“Ben?” Cody questioned, and Obi-Wan just rested his head on his arms with a groan.

“Don’t you dare tell,” His voice was muffled, so Satine elected to ignore him.

“The new astronomy teacher messed up his name during attendance,” Satine said gleefully.

“She won’t let it go,” He raised his head back up with a red-faced glare.

“Obi-Wan and Ben don’t even look alike,” Cody noted with a confused smile.

“I’m well aware,” Obi-Wan told him.

“Anyways, Ben,” Satine attempted a straight face, “I went to the trouble of picking you out two desserts today and it would be rather rude of you to not eat them.”

***                                            

Satine was struggling with a rather long and tedious history essay. She supposed Ben was too, because he’d hidden himself behind a textbook and she hadn’t seen him come up for air in hours.

“I’m never going to get this done,” She sat back against the plush blue couch with a sigh, breaking the silence she’d been dying to break for at least 30 minutes now.

“What part are you stuck on?” He asked without even putting the book down.

“I have all the information, I think,” She mused, “But I’m struggling with how to format it,” At that Ben did lower the book.

“Do you want me to look it over for you?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I was thinking of taking it to my mentor actually,” Satine admitted. Ben seemed to freeze at the mention of a mentor, but didn’t make any move to go back to his reading.

“That would be a good idea,” He agreed slowly, “They’ve probably written the same paper,” She could tell Ben was now attempting to hide behind his book to finish the conversation, they’d been friends for around a month and he just kept getting easier and easier to read. She grabbed the spine of his book and pushed it down.

“I’ve never asked you,” Satine thought out loud, “Who’s your mentor?” Ben froze again and she could see he was trying very hard not to avert his eyes, “I’ve never seen you with anyone else in the common room? Are they from a different house?”

“No they’re a Ravenclaw,” Ben started slowly, “They’re just much older than you’d expect,” Satine furrowed her brow at him and he continued knowing the answer would be pulled from him one way or another, “You know our fifth years aren’t a very big class,” He tried before trying again, “You know Qui-Gon right?”

“Professor Qui-Gon is your mentor?” Satine asked incredulously, Obi-Wan then did avert his eyes.

“Well like I said, year five isn’t a very big class, and people probably saw ‘Kenobi’ and decided to choose someone else,” He trailed off, “It’s not so bad I like Professor Jinn,” Satine shoved the book out of his hands and wrapped her arms around him suddenly. It was only for a moment before she pulled back.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” She told him.

“I- Well, yes,” Ben seemed a little dazed, but Satine thought not much of it, and instead went about gathering her papers together.

“I’ve got to run if I want to catch the fifth years when they get out of class,” She told him standing up, “I’ll be back later though, if you want me to look over yours,” He nodded, gathering his book off the floor.

“Alright, thank you Satine.”

***                                            

The snow was falling outside the window as the train pulled out of the station, Ben was staring out the window, brooding, and had been for some time. Satine had originally elected to ignore it in favor of chatting happily with Cody about their Christmas plans, but as time wore on, she couldn’t take it any longer.

“What are you planning on doing for the holidays Ben?” Once the words were out of her mouth, she saw Cody wince and had a sudden need to backtrack and delete the last second of her life.

“Oh, the holidays?” Ben contemplated, stretching his hands over his head and readjusting to actually look at his friends, “My parents will be throwing their annual Christmas Party. I suppose I will be hosting,” Satine remembered then, Cody’s mention of the Kenobi’s parties and she suddenly realized that going home for Ben, may not be the joyful celebration it was for her and Cody.

“You should write to us!” Satine demanded, “I don’t know what I’ll do all break if I don’t have someone to argue with,” She exclaimed dramatically. Cody rolled his eyes, but looked at Ben and nodded.

“I could use a distraction from my little brothers, I’d gladly welcome a reason to hole up in my room,” He grinned.

“My owl could use the exercise,” Ben joked, but then added, “If I can find a way, I’ll send you an owl.”

The trolley came by then and Ben bought each of them a sweet for the ride home. Satine contemplated, as she watched his eyes light up upon discovering his chocolate frog card, that she really didn’t know a lot about him. She vowed that come next semester she would start to learn even more, but until then she was just happy to be on a warm train sharing sweets and laughter with her two closest friends.

[morganas-pendragons]

kiss me (for you’re all i ever wanted) | obi-wan

back by popular demand (seriously the amount of screaming you all did on the first part to this fic had me yelling) here’s part two of this fic - touch starved obi-wan - this got away from me i’m sorry (i’m really not)

anything in italics is either a. thoughts or b. talking across the bond (telepathically)

tag: @obiorbenkenobi​ // @dressed-up-heartbreak​ // @robertdownyjrs​

*** 

Force, what the kriff were you supposed to do now?! It wasn’t like you could just... walk into the quarters of another Jedi General and say, “Shall we continue what was going to be the hottest kiss of your life that was so rudely interrupted?” 

You silently pace the small length of your quarters, completely unaware of the fact that Ahsoka Tano is standing outside of your door and projecting the calm you seem to be unable to control at the moment. She’s extremely perceptive - one of the brightest of her class of apprentices - and has quite an eye for things that most people would be ignorant of. 

Case in point: Your very obvious attraction for Master Obi-Wan who had tried and failed spectacularly to hide how desperately he wanted to be with you. Here she’d been led to believe her grandmaster was the epitome of the perfect Jedi. 

Turns out he was just another hopeless fool in love. 

  “Master?” 

  “Force, Ahsoka- You can’t just sneak up on people like that!” 

Ahsoka frowns and motions to the door. “But.. oh, kriff it.” She jabbed her thumb back out into the hallway where you could just barely see the forms of clones rushing through The Negotiator. “You are aware of what just happened, right? It didn’t just slip from your mind?” 

  “Ahsoka-” 

  “Maker, you adults are thick.” She mutters. “Look.. the clones are retreating to their night duties which means this portion of the ship is mostly abandoned. Rex and Cody are keeping their vod occupied, Anakin is in the gym where I’m supposed to be meeting him, and Master Kenobi..” Your eyes snap back over to the young Togruta who beams the moment she realizes she caught your attention. “He’s in his quarters down the hall. Seems pretty wired. Would you-” 

  “I’ll check on him.” You reply and swiftly leave your quarters without so much as another glance back at the padawan. You do, however, see her little victory dance. 

True to her word, the clones are vacant from this part of the ship which leaves you lingering outside the door to Obi-Wan Kenobi’s quarter and wondering what on Earth you’re supposed to say when and if he opens the door. 

Your fingers hover over the keypad with the code on the forefront of your mind; That’s when you realize you might be the only person outside of Skywalker who knows the code into these quarters. 

The durasteel slides open with ease. On the floor sits a Jedi Master, hands poised against his knees and body set into the familiar meditation position. The sight of him so tranquil makes your blood boil. Is this what he does when he wants to forget how he asked you to kiss him? 

  “Obi-Wan.” 

No response. 

Pressing your lips together in a firm line, you shed your own robes by the hook next to the door and kneel down in front of him. Give his obvious ignorance to your presence you assume that he’s deep enough in meditation to notice you aren’t there. You can work with that. 

  “Obi-Wan..” Your voice echoes across your bond as your hands slide up his chest and smooth across his shoulders to remove the robes that hide his figure from your view. Warmth floods your cheeks as you catch the hitch in his breath, his body struggling to continue in his meditative state with the fire your hands ignite when they touch bare skin. “Kenobi... we have something to finish.” 

  “Force-” Blue eyes snap open and are blown wide when he realizes what you’re doing, and his hands very swiftly catch yours before you can continue. “What-What are you doing? You know better then to disrupt meditation when it’s in such a deep state!” 

  “It’s not like Skywalker hasn’t been interrupting you since he was nine.” You shoot back. “Anyway, why are you meditating? We just got back. Less then three hours ago. Meditation should be the last thing on your mind.” 

Unknown to you, you are the only thing on Obi-Wan’s mind. 

  “I was trying to calm myself. My actions on the ship were inappropriate-” 

  “No.” You snap. Your voice holds more anger then either of you realized you were feeling, and the sharpness of it makes him wince. “That might work with Anakin and Ahsoka. It might’ve worked with Satine. It does not work with me. You’re an open book. I know when the infamous Negotiator is lying to me. 

You can tell yourself until you believe it that you don’t want love. That you don’t want touch and you don’t want to be held. Here’s the truth of the matter, Obi-Wan. Despite The Code you seem to adhere to more then the majority of The Order, despite every instinct that fabricates the very essence of your being.. you’re a man. A man with a heart and who wants things. You said it yourself. You want me to touch you. So give into it.” 

You lean forward just enough to brush your lips against the shell of his ear, and you’re rewarded with a delightfully low groan that reverberates in the back of his throat as his hands find purchase against your hips. 

  “Give into your desires.” 

Cradling his face in your hands, you allow your legs to loosely wrap around his waist as he moves you right into his lap. The friction that creates alone is enough to make you blush. “Maker, please-” He breathes, low and hoarse against your mouth, as you hover only mere inches in front of him. “The temptation alone-” 

  “Obi-Wan.. what do you want?” You ask. 

  “You.” He says it so quickly that you know without a doubt it’s true. 

  “Then you have me.” 

There’s no one around to interrupt you now. 

Your hands make quick work of the tunic he often wears underneath his robes, deftly unlacing the knots that come together at the dip in his chest as he watches you through petrified blue eyes. It’s not hard to forget he’s never done this before. 

Fingertips trace over burn marks that are kept just out of sight beneath his neck line. You dip your head down just low enough to skim their ridges, and Obi-Wan goes slack in your embrace. 

  “Hero. Savior. Friend.” 

The Force is practically taunting him at this point. Here you sit in the darkness of his quarters, snugly pressed against his lap, your hands tracing his torso and your lips branding his skin. He’s pretty sure he’s entered the Cosmic Force. 

  “The Zygerians. My f-failure-” 

You shake your head. “Never.” You whisper. Your attention drifts back up to his eyes which remain blown despite the darkness that envelops you. “Not to me. Never to me.” Your eyes flicker between his own and his mouth as you move closer and closer and closer until you receive your prize, and The Force sings with praise at the motion. 

All the stars have aligned. Its chosen have come home to each other. 

You lightly rake your fingers through the beard that burns your hands as you move slowly, timidly, waiting for him to learn how to reciprocate before daring to go deeper. This isn’t about you. It’s about him. 

That’s when you feel it. His hands travel up your arms until they meet your nape and then his fingers thread into the knots of your hair, and you’re so awed by how easy he falls into you that you open your mouth wide to him, and Obi-Wan deepens the kiss. 

You forget how to breathe for a moment. 

Sh.. darling. I think I’ve taken you by surprise. His voice teases across your Bond as you pull away just enough to ease the heaving of your chest from the lack of breath. 

You did. 

Your fingertips trace the shape of his face. The sharpness of his cheeks that are hidden by thick auburn hair (let’s face it, he’s hotter with the beard), the outline of his nose, the shape of his eyes that flutter as he absorbs every touch you’ll give him. Your other hand is still spread out over his heart. It hasn’t moved. 

He wonders why. 

  “You overwork yourself.” You whisper. You almost sound sad about the fact he works himself to the bone and has for the entire war. “You take on more responsibilities then you should, you don’t sleep, I can barely get you to eat most of the time because your nose is buried in a data pad. Your vod are worried about you. I am worried about you. Let someone take care of you once, Obi-Wan.” 

His shoulders fall in defeat. 

  “Okay.” He whispers in reply. “Okay. Okay.” 

You hum beneath your breath and stand to your feet, extending your hand out to pull him with you. Obi-Wan complies without complaint and listens to the lull of your voice and how it feels like there’s a hidden Force suggestion in it. Just the sound alone is making his eyes heavy. 

  “Oh no. Not yet.” You lightly flick his shoulder as he sits on the cot and allows you to take his boots off. “You’re not going to sleep yet.” 

  “Didn’t you just say-” 

  “Oh no. That kiss you gave me was exquisite. Unfortunately, it means I now have to further test the waters.” You muse softly. He’s clearly confused and equally stunned by his own gasp when you flick your hand and the upper part of his torso is left bare to you. “Good. Now sit still, and keep quiet. You don’t want the boys to hear.” 

Hear what?

You part his legs just enough to settle yourself in his lap again. He’s leaning against the wall now, eyes narrowed as you bend your head to the column of his neck. His pulse is steady beneath your hand - amplified by his obvious fear - and you send a wave of calm across the Bond that makes his heartbeat slower. 

Your lips skim feverish skin until you find your mark - the one that makes his breath hitch when you touch it - and very, very slowly begin sucking on it. 

The way your core ignites at the groan he emits makes you dizzy. 

  “Force-Force-” He rasps through gritted teeth as his hands tighten on your hips so much you’re sure his fingers will leave imprints in your skin. “Maker-I-I-can’t-” 

Then your teeth drag across the mark, and he sees stars. 

 “Hm.” You somehow manage to start sucking harder and Obi-Wan is cursing in every language he’s fluent in to keep himself quiet. If you’d known that this was what it would take to get him to use that fabulous tongue of his- “The waters have been tested. You like hickies.” 

You pull away to examine your work. It stands out proudly against his skin. A mark that tells the people who see it that he belongs to someone. Sure.. you could theoretically use The Force to heal it.. but you don’t want to. You’re too smug about the sounds he made when you did. 

  “You know-” He rasps as you slip away before he can do anything, and Obi-Wan curses at how his limbs feel like they won’t sustain him. Kriff. “When-When I learn to do that, you will be the one getting tortured.” 

  “Oh, sure.” You retort as he lays on his side and opens his arms for you to lay in them. “How do you plan on doing that?” 

You’re so prideful that you don’t expect his next words,

  “Because I’ll mark you everywhere.” 

*** 

The next morning, Anakin and Ahsoka are standing at the end of the hall that hold the Generals Quarters. They both had a rather restful night sleep after practicing their hand to hand with the clones and their katas in the gym. You and Obi-Wan, however, did not. 

  “Okay Snips.” Anakin muses. “I’ll bet you fifty.” 

  “Fifty? Did you miss the part where I said I convinced her to go to his quarters?” 

The Jedi Knight laughs as his blue eyes flicker back down the hall where Obi-Wan exits his quarters and about two minutes later, your head pops out and you look up and down the hall to ensure no one saw you leave just after he did. 

  “No-” Ahsoka rasps, eyes bright with tears as she bends over in hysterical laughter. “You owe me a hundred credits and a dinner at Dex’s!” 

  “What the kark are you-” His eyes snap over to his former Master who is the definition of composed until Anakin sees the bright purple mark that’s just barely hidden underneath the fabric of his Jedi Robes. “Obi-Wan!” 

Rex, Cody and yourself stand by Ahsoka Tano as she once again lifts her data pad to record the altercation for future reference while following on the heels of her Master as The Hero With No Fear chases one of the most respectable Jedi in the Order all the way through The Negotiator. That is until Obi-Wan has the good sense to lock himself in a room where Anakin has no access. 

  “Kenobi, when I get this door open-”

  “Tell you what, ‘Soka.” You lightly bump hips with the Togruta and hold up your credit chit as Rex goes to calm his General. “When we get home, I’ll buy you dinner.” 

You buy her six. She likes to hear the gossip you have about her grandmaster. When you come home to The Temple and find Obi-Wan waiting for you in your quarters, he follows through on his promise of torture. 

He’s particularly skilled with his mouth, remember? 

[mytardisisparked]

When Sunrise Comes Early: Chapter 3

Obi-Wan sighed as he watched Anakin eagerly walk towards their transport, almost bouncing with excitement. He had woken his apprentice up early this morning to tell him they were leaving for Mandalore straight away, and Anakin had been overwhelmingly enthusiastic about the concept. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen the boy this excited since he took him to Ilum to get his kyber crystal. 

Having not slept a wink last night, Obi-Wan was tempted to tell Anakin to calm down a touch, but after the events of the last three days he just couldn’t bring himself to squash his padawan’s joy. 

“GoodmorningMaster!” Anakin yelled as he rushed forward and stood at the edge of the ramp leading up to the ship. “Are we ready to go?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Go ahead and get the engine fired up, I’ll be along in a moment.”

With one last gleeful look, Anakin raced inside, leaving Obi-Wan shaking his head fondly. 

“It’s nice to see him smile.” Mace Windu walked up and stood next to the younger Jedi, staring at the spot where Anakin had disappeared. 

The redhead turned to look at him, a bit confused. “Yes, it is.” Obi-Wan bit his lip. “Master, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you suddenly so invested in Anakin? Up until now, you have made it very clear that you don’t trust the boy.”

A flash of animosity passed through Mace’s eyes for a moment but it was gone in less than a second, replaced by something akin to regret. “This incident with the Chancellor has made me... more aware of the value of your padawan and of being invested in our young charges.” He looked Obi-Wan in the eye. “I’ve realized that children like Anakin need support; if that doesn’t come from us, then people like Palpatine will step in to manipulate them for far more nefarious purposes.”

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile. “That’s quite the revelation.”

Mace merely nodded. “Best of luck on your journey, Kenobi. May the Force be with you.”

“And with you.” Obi-Wan bowed and headed inside the ship, closing the ramp behind him. 

Anakin had sucessfully started the engine and was relaxing in the copliot’s chair, tinkering with some small device. Obi-Wan settled into the pilot’s seat and carefully lifted off, following the traffic lane out of the atmosphere before setting their coordinates and entering hyperspace.

Once the stars were streaking past them, Anakin set his project down and leaned forward in his chair. “So, why are we going to Mandalore?”

“To meet with the duchess and see if she will allow us to use a Mandalorian Force-Prison,” Obi-Wan said as he fiddled with a few controls. 

Anakin’s jaw dropped. “We’re meeting the Duchess of Mandalore?”

His master chuckled and turned to look at him. “Yes, but it isn’t like you haven’t met royalty before. Remember Queen Amidala?”

Suddenly, the boy turned bright red and couldn’t seem to meet Obi-Wan’s eye. “Uh, yeah, I remember Padme.”

The Jedi raised a brow, but decided not to ask. “Well, you will treat Duchess Kryze with the same respect with which you were taught to treat Queen Amidala. Maybe even more so; Mandalorians can be quite strict.”

Anakin looked less enthusiastic now. “Of course, Master, I don’t want to mess this up.”

Obi-Wan rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling. “I have every faith that you will do well.”

Myself, on the other hand... Obi-Wan thought. Let’s hope I can avoid any... awkwardness.

The flight to Mandalore was not incredibly long, though Anakin claimed it felt like their landing sequence alone took three hours. Once they had landed, they were greeted by guardsmen who lead them to a speeder and drove them to the palace.

As they flew above the streets of Concordia, Obi-Wan fidgeted with the edge of his robe. Mace had contacted the duchess before they had left and she was willing to meet, but that did not guarantee that she would, by any means, be pleased to see him. 

The entire flight to the system, Obi-Wan had been wrestling with varying emotions. On one hand, he knew that the duchess was a passionate woman with a penchant for arguing who likely still held Obi-Wan in some level of contempt, based on how things last ended between them. On the other hand, the prospect of seeing Satine again excited Obi-Wan, stirring up feelings he had done his best to forget over the last 12 years.

Obi-Wan sighed for the 20th time that morning and rubbed his temples. He already had headache and he hadn’t even spoken to the duchess yet.

The speeder pulled up to the front doors of the palace and Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. “I will do all the talking once we get inside. Just follow my lead when it comes to bowing and be respectful if the duchess asks you any questions.”

Anakin nodded seriously. “Yes, Master.”

Obi-Wan smiled and patted him on the shoulder before they headed inside.

As soon as the doors opened to the throne room, Obi-Wan’s heart stopped.

There she was, sitting on the throne before him, giving the Jedi the same condescending look she wore the first day they had met so long ago. She was a bit taller now, and her features had grown from girlish to womanly, but time and age had only made her more radiant. 

Despite all of this, Obi-Wan, by the mercy of the Force, continued walking without a change of pace or expression, which he considered a definite victory, especially when considering the fact that Satine’s expression hadn’t changed upon seeing him whatsoever.

As the Jedi approached the throne, Obi-Wan dipped into a bow and was thankful to see Anakin following suit out of the corner of his eye.

“Welcome, Jedi.” Satine’s lilting voice seemed to pull Obi-Wan back up into a standing position. “I hope your trip here wasn’t too unpleasant.” Her tone was somewhere between bored and hostile, but Obi-Wan was, for the first time in his life, finding it difficult to read her true emotions.

“It was wholly unexciting, thankfully.” Obi-Wan gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We thank you for welcoming us, Duchess Kryze.”

At the mention of her title, Obi-Wan almost thought he saw her flinch, but she stood and stepped down from the dais quickly enough that he couldn’t be certain.

“Well, Master Windu said in his call that this matter you have come to speak of is rather urgent, so we will meet with my councilors in about an hour for you to present your case.” She opened her mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by a flash of red rushing into the room and skidding across the floor to come to a stop not far from where they stood. Obi-Wan was barely able to register that it was a boy a few years younger than Anakin before the excited child began to speak very quickly.

“Auntie! Come quickly, I need to sho-” The boy’s bright blue eyes suddenly grew wide. He quickly pulled himself up into a respectfully straight posture and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a meeting today.”

Satine took a deep breath and gave Obi-Wan a tight smile. “My apologies, Master Jedi.” She gestured to the boy and he moved to Satine’s side. “This is my nephew, Korkie.”

Obi-Wan smiled at the boy and bowed. “Hello there, I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Korkie grinned back and gave a little bow in return. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Satine didn’t quite smile, but her face looked a bit less severe. That minute shift in her aura made Obi-Wan’s heart race.

“Hi! I’m Anakin!” Obi-wan turned to see his padawan waving at the Duchess and Korkie with a massive grin on his face. “I’m Master Kenobi’s padawan.”

“Cool! What’s a padawan?” Korkie’s eyes lit up as he took in the other boy.

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, but the Duchess jumped in. “Why don’t we let Korkie and Anakin get acquainted while you and I take a walk to discuss things before the meeting?” She smiled at the two boys.

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan gleefully as Obi-Wan nodded his consent. “Try not to get into any trouble, Anakin.”

“I never do, Master!” Before Obi-Wan could comment on the massive untruth of that statement, the two boys were headed down a hallway off of the throne room, chattering incessantly. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile after them. “I hope Korkie is prepared for Anakin to talk his ear off.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Satine stepped closer to his side, “unless Anakin is unprepared to answer hundreds of questions.”

He turned to her and found her smiling. He offered her his arm. “Well, shall we take a walk?”

She took his arm. “Yes, the gardens are this way.”

They stepped out into the bright sunshine, the scent of lilies enveloping them. 

“It’s a warm day. We best stick to the shade, seeing as we both have fair skin and a proclivity to burn.” Obi-Wan smirked and lead them both to a shaded walking path.

Satine smiled. “Oh yes, I remember the days where we wouldn’t be able to sleep because we were utterly roasted by the sun.”

“And Qui-Gon would be sitting there, laughing at us as he just got tanner.” Obi-Wan chuckled. “And we just looked like tomatoes.”

She shook her head. “Oh, I could have kicked him for all his mocking.” She laughed, the sound warming Obi-Wan from the inside out, bringing back fond memories of sitting around fires and telling stories late into the night, irritating Master Jinn with inside jokes that they refused to explain. “Korkie was just like us, growing up, getting burnt at just the slightest touch of sun.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at her curiously, finding her suddenly blushing. “Korkie seems like a very nice boy. Is he Bo’s son?”

Satine turned her head to look at a long drooping tree. “No, he was my brother’s child. They died when he was a baby, so I have been taking care of him.”

“Ah.”

She turned back to him. “I didn’t know you took on a padawan.”

“I wasn’t planning on taking one quite yet, but,” he swallowed, growing more serious, “Master Qui-Gon made me promise to train Anakin before he died.”

Satine bowed her head. “I had heard about Qui-Gon’s passing. I was very sorry-” She swallowed and wrung her hands. “I know I knew him for only a year, but he really was like a father to me during that time.”

“We have that in common then, I suppose.” Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile. 

She looped her arm through his again and they continued walking. “So, Master Windu said you were here about a matter that would effect the entire galaxy.” Just like that, she was back to being the perfect image of professionalism.

Obi-Wan straightened. “Yes, I can explain it all in the meeting, but we have captured a dangerous Sith Lord.”

Satine’s face grew grave. “That is... troubling news. I’m sure my council will be very interested to hear more about it.” They turned down another path, falling silent for a few moments. In the distance, they could hear Korkie and Anakin talking excitedly, which made them both smile.

As subtly as he could, Obi-Wan studied Satine’s face, noting the sadness she carried under that moment of joy. Ruling had not been easy on her, he knew that just from reading the Mandalorian headlines, but he was pleased to see that the criticism and opposition had not extinguished her fire, for within that sadness, he could see the same Satine he had known when he was a child. She was the same and, yet, somehow, even more.

This, however, was not the same Satine that had coldly dismissed him on the platform the last day he had spent on Mandalore. This was not the Satine that had insisted she did not care for him, no matter how she might have acted before that fateful day.

So what did happen the day we said goodbye? he wondered. Was all of that just an act to make parting easier? Or did she really not care for me as deeply as I cared for her?

“How old is Anakin?” Satine asked suddenly, shaking Obi-Wan out of his thoughts.

“He just turned 14. He has been under my care since he was 9. Qui-Gon found him on Tatooine during our last mission.”

“He was orphaned, then?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth straightened into a thin line. “Not exactly.”

Satine stopped and gave him a look. “So he was taken from his family?”

He sighed, turning to face her. “He and his mother were slaves of the hutts. Qui-Gon tried to bargain for their freedom, but he was only able to secure Anakin’s release.”

She scoffed. “So, what, you left his mother behind? You took the boy away from his family?” Her porcelain cheeks began to color.

Obi-Wan raised a brow and put a hand on her shoulder to calm her. “We did, but Master Windu and I are currently attempting to devise a plan to free her.” Satine stiffened a bit at his touch, but the redness of her cheeks faded. He glanced down at where his hand was resting and quickly snatched it away, realizing his impropriety. After clearing his throat and regaining the little composure he had let slip, he went on. “We agree that Anakin will fare better knowing his mother is safe. The problem we are running into is that we cannot interfere with Tatooinian affairs, no matter how much we may hate slavery. If the Jedi go to free her, we risk starting a war with the hutts that may lead to more harm than good.”

Satine looked into his eyes, but he could tell that she wasn’t really looking at him; she was thinking. “If you were to send someone to the planet to purchase Anakin’s mother, someone not tied to the Republic, might that resolve your predicament?”

Obi-Wan fixed her with a hard look. “Satine, what are you suggesting?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized he had used her first name without thinking, but he was far too concerned with whatever the duchess was plotting to correct himself.

Her focus seemed to snap back into the present. “I could go to Tatooine and purchase the boy’s mother, bring her back to Mandalore, and free her. Mandalorians are fond of bringing rescued people into their families, so I am certain we would find her a suitable place in our society where she would be loved and cared for.”

“I don’t dislike your plan, and I agree that it solves many of our problems, but I’m not sure that sending you personally to Tatooine is the best idea.” Obi-Wan took a step closer. “The hutts would have no qualms with kidnapping a high-profile politician for ransom.”

Satine raised a brow. “I know how to go about unnoticed, Obi-Wan.”

He eyed her massive headdress. “Do you?”

She scowled. “Need I remind you that it was you who drew attention to us when we were running from the bounty hunters on Darl? I never once gave our position away during that year.” She paced a short distance away. “I would go in disguise and keep this information to myself; the less people that know about this, the better.”

Obi-Wan walked up behind her, touching her elbow gently. “Are you sure about this? I would hate to put you at risk.”

She turned to meet his worried gaze with a soft, yet determined, look. “I will not stand aside while the mother of your pupil suffers. This is a risk I am more than willing to take.”

He gave her a small smile. “Then I know better than to try and stop you.”

“As you should.” She smiled back before straightening and stepping out of his touch. “We can work out the details of this later; it’s time to go meet the council and hear your story.” With that, she turned and walked back towards the throne room.

Obi-Wan watched her go, feeling strange emotions racing through his mind and heart. After a moment, he shook his head and followed her.

---------

Hello friends! This chapter was kind of an in-between chapter where not a lot happened, but I really wanted to take some time to set the tone of Satine and Obi-Wan’s relationship while also setting up some things to come. 

I would really like to thank everyone who has been keeping up with this story; I received a lot more positive feedback on this than I ever expected. I am overwhelmed by all the support. Thank you all for reading and commenting! It means the absolute world to me ❤

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) hettyc STAR WARS

When Bruck closes his eyes, he dreams of fire. Of smoke invading his lungs until he can’t breath, of it burning in his eyes until he can’t see past the cloud of acidic grey that surrounds him. He sees the red flames every time he tries to sleep, feels the burning heat on his skin and hears the Temple groaning around him. The Force is screaming, wailing in distress, and Bruck regrets listening to his father, he hates himself for following his orders to befriend Lord Xanatos for the good of their House.

He never could have known that this was what Xanatos had been planning; he had thought the older man had simply missed the Temple when he had asked all those questions. He had thought that he had wanted to be his friend - Bruck had too few friends nowadays. None of his creche mates wanted to be around him, not after Kenobi disappeared, and Xanatos had become a sympathetic ear. His clan siblings blame him for Obi-Wan having been sent away, and Bruck doesn’t hold it against them. If he hadn’t taunted him, hadn’t lied, then Obi-Wan wouldn’t have been sent away. He wouldn’t have been stolen. Even Aalto avoids him, unwilling to go against the tide, and Xanatos was the only one who listened.

But Xanatos had betrayed him.

Bant’s limp body is heavier in his dreams than she had been in real life, but he continues to drag her, because her life depends on it. The flames get hotter, the smoke thicker, and he hears laughter, dark and sadistically amused, in the darkness around him. It echoes in the smoke, vibrates in his bones, and while it had been nearly three years since the attack on the Temple, the fear is still fresh.

As always, Bruck wakes up the moment Xanatos pushes him into the fire. He doesn’t scream, not anymore, because Master Qui-Gon needs his sleep, so instead Bruck stays in his small bunk, wraps his blanket around his shaking shoulders, and tries to center himself.

Xanatos isn’t here. He isn’t at the Temple; he’s on Jaster’s Legacy, surrounded by Mandalorians. It should scare him - Mandalorians used to hunt Jedi for sport, and had been one of their oldest enemies - but instead it makes him feel safer. He’s seen the way the Fetts treat the younger Kryze and… Ben. He’s seen the way they act around Bruck compared to how they do around his Master, they’re even warm enough to Duchess Satine, who has been nothing but patronizing and arrogant, and who is legally an adult, but only barely.

Mandalorians are widely known as powerful warriors, but they’re also known for their love of children. Bruck is fifteen, still a child in the eyes of the law, so he’s confident that the Mandalorians won’t attack him; the Council had counted on it when they picked Bruck and his Master for the mission. He’s young enough to be a child in the eyes of the Mandalorians, but skilled enough to hold his own in battle if it needed to come to it.

The Fetts weren’t like Xanatos. They wouldn’t hurt him to get at Master Qui-Gon, no matter how much they hated the Jedi Master.

“Quiet your thoughts, Padawan.” His Master says gruffly from his own cot, and Bruck winces guiltily - he hadn’t meant to wake up the older Jedi with his stewing. “Release your emotions into the Force and focus on the here and now.”

“Yes Master.” Bruck murmurs, “Sorry, Master.”

But he can’t get Xanatos’ voice out of his head, mocking him as he holds his face against the flames, telling him about all the terrible things he did to Obi-Wan and what he’d do to Bruck. He doesn’t want Master Qui-Gon to see the memory again, not after everything he had put him through with his nightmares when their bond had still been new, he doesn’t want his Master to have to deal with that pain again. He needs to get control of himself. Master Qui-Gon needs his sleep, and Bruck needs to get a hold on his emotions so that he can prove that he’ll be a good Jedi.

Master Qui-Gon grumbles something under his breath, rolling over to put his back to where Bruck sits. “If you can’t get back to sleep, perhaps you should go meditate, and work to strengthen your connection to the Living Force.” He orders, and Bruck bows his head, unable to face his Master’s disappointment again.

“Yes Master.” He gathers his tunics quickly, pauses as he considers the new tears in the fabric, then grabs his sewing kit as well. He may be on the run, and his tunics may be falling apart, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to look his best. Besides, it had always been easier to concentrate when he could do things with his hands.

He ducks out of the room he shares with his Master as the older man’s breath evens out again, and he hurries down the hall as quietly as he could, intent on heading towards the rec room. The ship is quiet in it’s night cycle, and the halls are empty. Jaster’s Legacy is a ship designed to hold more people than just seven, it leaves the ship feeling abandoned, and Bruck had read enough on the history of the True Mandalorians to know why.

The Jedi had been a part of a massacre. They had been the weapons turned on a group of innocent people and used to kill them. To add insult to injury, the Senate wouldn’t allow for any reparations to be payed to their victims, claiming the Civil War as the cause without acknowledging that be sending the Jedi on an ill-researched mission that would end in a battle that murdered the majority of the most popular Mandalorian political party, they had made the fighting worse . Bruck had done his research. He’d looked into the modern history of Mandalore and written a report for his Master to read, as was expected of a Padawan, but Bruck suspects his Master hadn’t even looked at it, considering the way he had been acting. But Master Qui-Gon was enamoured with the Mandalore Kryze wants to build, and didn’t want to hear of any other possible choice.

If it were up to Bruck, the True Mandalorians would be in charge; he had enjoyed the historical and political articles the Reformer, Mand’alor Jaster Mereel, had written, and logically he could believe that Fett shared the same ideals as his adoptive father. But it’s not, and Bruck needs to follow orders. The Senate wants Satine Kryze on the Throne, so that’s what Bruck has to do.

He steps into the rec room, and falters. Ben Fett is kneeling on a small cushion, meditating , and stripped down to a too-large sleep shirt that slips down his shoulder, revealing a twisted scar over his shoulder blade. Bruck knows immediately what it is, and it makes him feel sick.

A brand.

Bruck stutters, and the youngest Fett twitches, head lifting.

“Good evening, Padawan Chun.” The redhead greets politely, peering at the Padawan over his shoulder, and Bruck shifts awkwardly, feeling guilty for staring.

Ben is odd. Bruck may have grown up with Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Ben Fett is completely different from the boy he had known. Ben is calmer, quieter, and a lot more dangerous, and Bruck doesn’t know how to act around him. Bruck himself is no longer the boy he had been either, and for the last three years he had thought his childhood rival was dead.

“Sorry.” He mutters quickly, “I can go somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine.” Fett says easily, shifting out of his meditation pose to stretch out his legs, and he adjusts the sleeve of his old shirt to slide it back over the twisted, melted skin on his back. “You can stay.” He offers Bruck a slightly awkward smile that has the other teenager blushing, “I don’t mind.”

Bruck shifts again, considering the offer, before he moves into the rec room, moving towards the couch. “Thanks.” The moment he’s sitting, he starts pulling out the needle and thread he needs to patch up the tears in his tunic. They sit in silence for a long moment, Bruck tending to his clothes and Ben methodically taking apart his sniper rifle, before Bruck speaks again. “I’m sorry.” Ben’s hands pause on the barrel of his blaster, glancing up at Bruck from under his shaggy bangs, and the pale-haired boy swallows nervously.

He had imagined apologizing to his former creche mate for years, since the moment he and the rest of their clan had been told that their clan-brother was gone. Bant and Reeft had cried for months, Garen had stopped paying attention in piloting classes, Aalto had stopped talking for nearly a year, and Bruck? Bruck had imagined finding Obi-Wan, of going and saving him, of being the hero and showing everyone how good a Jedi he was. He had gotten everything he had ever wanted; he had been chosen as a Padawan, he was the best in every class, but as more time passed, it started to feel rotten.

He had gotten everything, but Obi-Wan had only suffered.

“Whatever for?”

“I’m sorry.” Bruck says again, voice wobbling, and he ducks his head in shame. “I was horrible to you -” he thinks back to the brand that had been burned into Ben’s shoulder, and feels like the worst sort of being, “- it’s my fault you were taken.”

“No, it’s not.” Ben states firmly, voice a lot closer than it had been before, and the cushion next to him dips as the young Mandalorian sits beside him. “It was no one’s fault but Xanatos’, and my own.”

Bruck scoffs, “That’s ridiculous.”

Ben shrugs, “I’m the one who slipped away from the farm, and Xanatos was the one who sold me.”

“And it’s my fault you were there!” Bruck says sharply, closing his eyes against the burning tears, and his hands clench in the fabric of his tunic. “I was the one who lied! I was the one who treated you horribly and taunted you so that I could get you in trouble.”

“But I was the one who rose to the attack.” Ben states simply, “Anger isn’t the way of the Jedi, but I just kept getting angry - I would have made a terrible Jedi.”

Bruck bristles, “You would have been an amazing Jedi.” Ben just chuckles, and Bruck twitches faintly when a light hand rests on his arm. “I’m sorry that I ever told you otherwise.”

“I don’t blame you, Bruck.” Ben tells him gently, “Maybe I did, once, but not anymore.” Bruck hiccups. “I forgive you. I forgave you years ago.” The hand moves to press against his burned cheek, and Bruck opens his eyes to stare at the other boy in shock.

Ben smiles at him, and Bruck’s heart flutters in his chest, cheeks warming. It had been a long time since this had happened, but Bruck is older now, more mature, and he’s learned how to deal with confusing emotions in ways that don't lead to him lashing out.

“We were little kids, Bruck - what happened wasn’t your fault.”

Overwhelmed and close to tears, Bruck leans forward and presses their lips together.

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Hi, I'm shy, but I am in LOVEEEE with all your Obitine AUs. If inspiration ever strikes, could you do a Doctor/Surgeon AU?

- Pro Bono -

The first time he sees her walking through the building he's completely awestruck.

He had heard of her of course, her reputation proceeded her, but he wasn't quite prepared for how startlingly beautiful she was.

Satine Kryze was well known throughout the state as a pro-bono surgeon, having put the majority of her inheritance towards paying for rare and complex surgeries that patients wouldn't have been able to afford otherwise.

He commends the work she does. Rarely does someone of that much wealth dedicate so much of their time and money to charitable pursuits.

When he heard she was coming to Coruscant General Hospital, his curiosity was piqued. Anakin had informed him that the so called 'Duchess of Charity' had scheduled a meeting with the board, namely Padme and Chief Palpatine, to discuss a pro-bono treatment plan with one of their patients. His patient, no less. A young girl named Ahsoka who's family wasn't going to be able to pay for the vigorous treatment needed to save her life.

His pager beeps, and he worries for a moment something had happened to the girl in question, but he realizes he's being paged to the board meeting.

The walk through the hospital is slow, which only made his mind wander on just what the verdict would be in means of her care.

"You paged?" Obi-Wan says when he enters the room, not being able to help himself when his eyes land directly on her.

"Dr. Kenobi," Padme says with a gracious smile, "Thank you for coming."

“Of course.”

“I’m sure you know, this is Satine Kryze, head of the Mandalore foundation.”

Satine smiles brightly at him, and sudden he understands Anakins first meeting with Padme all too well.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Satine says, “I’ve heard much about your work.”

“Your reputation proceeds you as well,” He says with a polite smile, “Your presence has caused quite a commotion. All positive, of course.”

She smiles and glances over to Padme and Palpatine, “I was just discussing the treatment of Ms. Tano. I see you’ve performed three surgeries on her thus far, all successful.”

He finally takes a seat at the table, glancing down at the files in front of her, “Depends on your prospective, her cancer is aggressive. Every time I remove a tumor another one appears.”

Satines eyes soften and Obi-Wan feels an uncharacteristic pang of nervousness deep in his chest. When’s the last time the mere presence of a woman made him nervous?

Hearing about her and her virtuous reputation is one thing, but seeing the woman in person was a whole other experience he wasn’t prepared for.

“You’ve prolonged her life, that to me is a success,” She says sincerely, “And I would like to make sure she gets to live it to the fullest. I have a treatment plan in mind that I’m willing to fund, so long as the doctor overseeing her care agrees.”

He finally works up the nerve to smile back at her, “I think we can come to an agreement.”

-

Satine spends almost a month there, frequently meeting with Obi-Wan and her other doctors to discuss her treatment plan. She had more resources at her disposal than he could have imagined; technology that even their top tier hospital hadn’t even heard of, let alone afford.

Anakin - who had been one of the only surgeons Obi-Wan had trusted in the operating room with him while he worked on Ahsoka - had commented more than once on how much time he and Satine had been spending together when he wasn’t with patients.

He had reminded him of course that it was all out of their mutual dedication to the young girls treatment.

That’s what had been telling himself, at least.

If he was being fully truthful, he was totally smitten with Satine Kryze.

There was something to the way she carried herself, with such poise and elegance. Watching her go head to head with a group of stubborn medical researchers, arguing for Ahsoka's case was a sight he didn't think he would get tired of seeing.

In truth, when he had first heard about her crusade of pro-bono work and donations, he had thought her delusional. Surgery was his passion, he had practically been brought up knowing he would be a doctor, be he understood the reality. Medical research was a brutal battlefield, one that he is all too aware of. But she was tactical, and could practically talk her way into anything.

"I spent years in private school," She told him late one night, "And then went to medical school."

"I've heard about your work. You were a fantastic doctor."

Satine blushes, something he finds unbelievably endearing, "I was, but then my parents had passed and I suddenly had the Mandalore Foundation to take charge of, and all of this inheritance, and I just wasn't able to practice medicine like I wanted too anymore."

"So you decided to do pro-bono work." He says.

She nods, "At the very least fund expensive or experimental treatment for rare cases, like Ahsoka."

"You're remarkable." The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

She smiles at him, blue eyes lit up in a way he hadn't before.

"I think you're pretty great too."

-

Three weeks of experimental medicine and six hours worth of surgery, Obi-Wan is in his office, finishing up the last bit of notes on Ahsoka.

It's practically a miracle. According to her scans not one tumor is left in her body, and she's getting stronger every day. The treatments Satine had arranged and paid for saved her life.

Anakin pages him with an update, letting him know that Ahsoka is stable and resting for the night, and just as he's about to finish up the last bit of work and go home someone knocks on his door.

When he looks up Satine is there, dressed in a deep blue dress and smiling brightly at him.

"Satine," He says, standing up from his desk, "I didn't expect you to be here so late."

"I stopped by earlier, but you were in surgery with another patient. I wanted to congratulate you on Ahsoka's recovery. You saved her."

"You saved her," He counters, "If you hadn't been able to arrange all of those treatments, I never would have been able too."

She walks towards him, smile never dimming, "I'm positive you would have found a way, but I'm glad I could be of service."

They're standing closer than what would be deemed appropriate, but he can't stop himself. God help him, he wants to be close to her.

"I suppose now that her treatment is done you'll be leaving soon?"

Her smile fades suddenly, "The day after tomorrow I'm scheduled to fly out."

His smiles diminishes as well, "Duty always calls for those of us who practice medicine."

Her gaze drops down to her hands, "That it does."

"I'm glad you came here, Satine." There's a vulnerability to his voice that he doesn't recognize, but he finds it doesn't scare him like it really should, "Not only for Ahsoka's sake, but also mine."

The smile comes back. It's shyer this time, and her eyes are still cast down at the floor, but it's there, and he realizes its something he doesn't want to stop seeing.

"I'm rather fond of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He tilts her chin upwards with the tips of his fingers and kisses her, slowly and sweetly, hoping that she understood all the things that he couldn't figure out how to tell her.

Satine's teeth graze his bottom lip just as his free hand settles on her waist and he's almost completely floored that she's kissing him back.

"Dinner with me," She whispers against him, "Tonight."

He kisses her again.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

[written-musings]

Obi-Wan & Padmé post-episode 1

It was a beautiful evening as colorful fireworks exploded and illuminated the night sky of the Naboo, the bursts of the lightshow intertwining with the shouts of glee from the partying crowds dispersed through the depths of Theed below the Palace. The turquoise roofs of the entire city glowed, reflecting the sparkling lights of the show and the gradient pastels of the sunset that ended yet another day as the cool winds from the hills and mountains drifted through the crevices of the capital, greeting one’s face with a comforting embrace of peace. Music echoed through the alleyways up the walls outside of the Palace, the positive and uplifting melodies permeating the air and traveling with the breeze, waltzing away.

Yet young hooded Obi-Wan Kenobi stood outside of his room on the balcony that overlooked the endless stuccos of brick and façades adorned with pillars and carved intricacies, and despite all of the joy and peace that surrounded him, he was full of insurmountable sorrow that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

Who could blame him? He had watched his Master die and burn before his eyes. He had a new Padawan to teach. He had someone he loved far away. Yet someone was near.

He could feel it.

His elbows rested on the cool stone as he leaned on them, inhaling a deep breath as he absorbed all the emotions he felt from within and right in front of him. Satisfaction should have overcome him, since he was the first to kill a Sith in a millennia, but it did not feel like enough. He had saved millions of lives, but why was the death of a single person such a burden on his heart? It was his fault in his eyes, and it would take him many years to realize that it, in fact, was not.

When there is a battle between light and dark, death is inevitable – because it is merely a shadow that hides between both entities, sneakily snatching their victims until they are satisfied.

Don’t dwell on your feelings.

He released a big sigh as his gaze adverted to the waterfalls that mirrored the pink and purple hues that brushed the dusk sky, bearing the stars of the entire galaxy. But he closed his eyes, thinking of each and every one he could, allowing their light to fill him as the cool, moist, aromatic breeze of roses permeated his skin through his thick robes and suddenly that pained sigh transformed into a sign of relief.

Suddenly, before he could even sense it, a voice greeted him. “Am I bothering you?”

The new Jedi Knight twirled around to find the face of the young, optimistic woman before him with cups of steaming caf in her hands, her face completely bare from the caked makeup she had on during the ceremony just an hour ago. He had excused himself from the festivities of Freedom Day to meditate and not let his intense emotions of sorrow to consume him. But he was glad to see her face, the face of the young woman, not the Queen of Naboo that reverently ruled her people with a sense of pride and advocacy, qualities in a politician he had never quite seen before.

He straightened himself as he spoke, attempting to hide the blush on his cheeks, “Not at all… milady.” She laughed as he emphasized the last term, “Or should I say… Your Highness?” He lowered his hood, revealing his shorter hair and the Padawan braid that trailed his shoulder.

She shot him a look, the look where one narrows their eyes to nonchalantly pierce into their soul – that makes one laugh yet shudder from their grasp...

“I thought I told you not to call me that…” Padmé Naberrie Amidala grinned as she neared him, handing him a porcelain cup of caf, the aromas of the roasted beans filling his nose and making him feel warm.

He took a sip, allowing the dark, hot liquid to linger on his tongue, “I know, Padmé. But I just couldn’t resist.”

Sipping the caf, she joined him on the balcony overlooking the city of her people, the glimmering lights reflecting off of the contours of her face – the twinkles dancing on her cheekbones up to her nose and glimmering on her eyes, then her lips… She leaned against the balcony with her elbows, too, her right only inches away from his left, just two good friends sipping caf on a lovely evening of light.

“If we are using formal pleasantries, then you are Jedi Knight Kenobi, am I wrong?” She turned to look at him with a large smile beaming from her supple lips, the happiest he had seen her since they rode back to Naboo from Tatooine after she finally put Anakin to sleep. This was when she introduced him to caf for the very first time, when they were cold in the depths of hyperspace, warping the dimensions of space and time in the entire process.

“You are not,” he sipped the caf again, clearing his throat with a snarky smirk on his pink lips.

Then there was silence for a while. It was not awkward or uncomfortable at all, but more satisfying, fulfilling as both of these humans were absorbing each other’s presence for all long as they could before they would be apart for however long that would be. After the celebrations, all of the Jedi and Republic dignitaries would vacate the planet and return to Coruscant – where their responsibilities were waiting for them. Padmé had a recovering planet in her hands while Obi-Wan was tasked to train the so-called “Chosen One.” Leisure trips between the two worlds were impossible and both of them knew it.

“Thank you,” she nearly whispered, holding the cup of caf in her hands, watching her reflection slowly dissipate as the sun slowly set beyond the mountainous horizon.

“For what?” He looked at her, his Coruscanti accent emphasized in the last word.

She nonchalantly chuckled under her breath and took a sip, “Thank you for talking me into having the Freedom Day ceremonies despite all the chaos of the galaxy that abounds. You were right.” The woman paused, allowing him to focus on the dark, thick curls on her head that he had not noticed before – they were beautiful.

Tucking some locks behind her ear she continued, “You were right because we cannot dwell on the past. We must continue to walk on our paths for the sake of not just ourselves, but others.”

He did not speak for a moment, only sipping the hot beverage as he was deep in his thoughts. “It’s what Qui-Gon would have wanted.”

Padmé sighed, taking the last sip of the caffeinated treat before placing it on the balcony edge. Turning to him she spoke, “Obi-Wan, I know we have been so busy with our own duties but I never got to pay my respects to y–.”

Interrupting her he shook his head, his eyes wide and serious, “No, no. You do not need to do that. Really.”

She hesitated, wondering what to say. What could she say at a time like this? Jedi don’t die of unnatural causes often, especially from the vengeful hands of Sith lords. Not many Jedi lose their Masters this young. Yet these situations were right in front of her and she had no idea how to navigate them, especially since the person she cared about was right in front of her.

“Obi-Wan… I know you do not want to talk about it and I respect that. Therefore, I will refrain from discussing it. I know that Jedi teach that one should not let their feelings cloud their judgement. However, that does not mean that you should suppress them and compartmentalize them away – not at a time like this.”

“I’m fine, Padmé, I promise.” He still faced the city, not meeting her eyes to hide his tears. He could not break in front of her, he could not.

She somehow felt the brokenness in him, a wound so fresh that it would take time to heal. Not many others saw this, and she saw the façade when Obi-Wan discussed future plans with Anakin during the funeral of the Jedi, the fire supposedly burning all senses of sorrow away. He was composed, stoic, devoid of any sense of emotion. But here, now, in this moment, he was far from apathetic, indifferent from the universe around him. In fact, he was quite the opposite. Padmé could not really see it on the expressions chiseled into the youthful lines of his face, but she tasted the bitterness he had toward himself and the burning pain that accompanied it. It hurt her to see, no, to feel him this way.  Grabbing his sleeve, he turned toward her as the dams he created were so close to breaking.

He was stronger than this.

He had to be.

Yet her presence, by some means, was some sort of weapon that made him most vulnerable and he hurt even more when he saw the concern etched in the crevices of her face.

Before tears could overflow from his eyes, she pulled him close to her in a warm embrace. And suddenly the sorrow and pain diminished as she held him, frozen from surprise by her actions as he felt her head brimmed with curls that rested on his shoulder. He did not know what to say as this warmth filled his entire body from head to toe; it was almost like he had been waiting for something this tangible his entire life and he had been ignorant before this very moment. Inhaling the sobs in his throat away, he smelled the aromatic fragrance of sweet roses and hints of hairspray. Regardless, he somehow felt at… home.

He never really had one.

His arms soon wrapped around her frail frame as he held her closer than he had ever held any other person – and it was the first time he had felt alive in a long time.

He never touched her… Satine… Yet she was far… Far away.

Pulling away, he grasped Padmé’s hands, surprising her as she looked up at him, the lights from the fire show radiating from his blue eyes. “Thank you….” He paused as he never broke his gaze into her caf-colored eyes, the hot, caffeinated, tempting liquid beckoning him, yet he restrained himself. “I have not had someone to truly confide in in quite some time.”

She blushed lightly, “But you did not say anything.”

He shook his head with a coy smile across his lips, “But you understood enough. You reminded me to feel the light.”

She beamed, radiating happiness, filling him with even more light. “I owe that advice to the person who gave it to me and he happens to be right in front of me.” She bore her bright white teeth with a smile he would mentally capture and hold in his heart for quite some time. He did not want to let his friend go.

“Would you like to sit?” He asked, trying to buy time and looking around the grand room only to realize there was nowhere to sit but his bed.

She took her hands from his and spoke, “Are you sure you do not have anywhere to be, Jedi Knight?”

He laughed, his voice so bright and light – it was merely like a leaf drifting in the breeze as it slowly trickled toward the ground to its final resting place. “I should be asking you that question.”

“My decoy is giving me a much needed break for the night. She said saving our planet from invasion and handling the consequences with the Republic have proven to be exhausting. Thus, handling the festivities would be an opportunity for me to rest before I continue on with my term.”

“Ah,” he responded as he gestured to the bed for them to sit, only he plopped himself on the bed to prop his head back against the regal headboard, placing his hands behind his head as his elbows were acute to the side. “You think your people will be like me and notice?”

She snickered as she sat on the side of the bed, “I honestly do not think so…” She was playing with the fabric on the bed before looking up at him with a big smile. “I say you were an exception to the plot… Well… Besides…” She stopped herself and opened her mouth to apologize, but he spoke before she could.

“He did not know that I knew.” He jeered, before he sat up, “So it’ll be our little secret.”

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, “Of course only Qui-Gon knew.”

“Do you think he knew that secretly communicated with the comlink I gave you – so you could tell me all the background information while you were trying to find help on Tatooine?” Obi-Wan cheekily grinned, his mouth opened wide and bearing dimples on his face.

She shook her head, “I most certainly hope not…” Giggling, she looked up at him again, forgetting all the pain that came with the invasion, the torture of her people, specifically the two handmaidens that stayed behind, risking their lives to protect her. Now she was here laughing, and that little thought hurt her a bit. “Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?”

“When did you find out?” She asked him, referring to the moment he found out that she was the queen.

He pondered for a moment, his eyes drifting to the two empty porcelain mugs that rested on the edge balcony barricade then back on her, “I think I realized it when I was looking for Anakin… When I stopped by now Palpatine’s quarters to find a queen preparing for her appearance to the Senate. I must say the Queen of Naboo was quite surprised to see me considering I had barely said a word to her.”

“Really?”

He nodded his head, “Really… Your stuttering, ‘O- oh. A- Ani is not here at the moment’ followed by subtle giggles from the handmaidens. It was quite the show.” He mimicked her flat voice almost perfectly.

She looked away, embarrassed, the warmth of the blood rushing to her cheeks.

Let us be quite honest, these young humans felt many things during this night together. In fact, they felt many things they did not want to acknowledge themselves. But each second they spent together, they relished every little fragment they could. If anything, Obi-Wan Kenobi learned not to take things for granted especially after he had met Duchess Satine Kryze years ago, when his commitment to the Jedi Order prevented him from pursuing anything further. He did not really realize it, but it broke him in some way. Padmé did not know very much, other than the fact that she had dedicated herself to politics at such a young age, whatever she had with that artist years ago had diminished into nothingness, leaving the two souls together as the rest of her homeworld celebrated liberation, freedom, peace. They did not know what the future or the Force had in store, only that they had each other during this time.

They conversed, unbothered and undisturbed, for what felt like hours to the point that the evening chill had filled the room and they had to light the fireplace in front of the bed. Both of their faces were bathed in the fire light as they laughed and joked with one another. It was this small period of time in their lives where they forgot who they were and the horrors of their pasts – they were just Obi-Wan and Padmé, two friends who had met by chance during a planetary invasion. Yet despite their idea of friendship, they had fallen far deeper than they had realized. Soon the giggles and non-pleasantries had turned into stories of their pasts, their aspirations, their dreams, then transitioning into hums of exhaustion as their backs rested on the cushions of his bed, their eyes gazing at engraved flowers of the ceiling as the caffeine wore off and they truly felt the burdens that were placed on their shoulders that allowed them to mindlessly drift into an inevitable slumber.

Together.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13543652/1/Isolated-An-Obidala-Story

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Feelings I Can’t Fight - Obitine Week 2020: Day 1 (Envy)

"Envy's not a good look on you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan has peace in the Force, a purpose with the Jedi, and a padawan to train. But when he gets news that leaves him in a tailspin, he's unable (or unwilling) to control the torrent of emotions he's never felt before. Instead of releasing it to the Force, he finds himself breaking into the Jedi Temple's communication center . . . desperate to make sense of the news regarding the one person who could make him question the path he chose long ago.

Or rather ... an exploration of Obi-Wan having emotions for Satine that are as turbulent as Anakin’s for Padme.

(Also available on Ao3)

Coruscant never slept. The setting sun bathed the streets in an eerie red glow, but the denizens of the city still swarmed through the streets, which were as busy now as during the work day. Obi-Wan narrowly avoided colliding with a woman racing across his path, then had to sidestep a merchant's cart to avoid having his foot run over. His heart pounded, and he heard his master's voice in his head, reminding him that this reaction was rather unbecoming of a Jedi, especially one who was a knight and had a padawan of his own. But it made no difference; his mind swarmed like the crowds in front of him, and Obi-Wan didn't know how to calm himself. He didn't know if he wanted to.

"Master Obi-Wan, you're walking very fast!"

He barely heard Anakin's voice over the buzz of the city, but it arrested him on the spot. He stopped and turned, searching for his padawan. It took a second, but then he saw a flash of blond hair and a bouncing braid ducking between a Coruscanti couple dressed for the opera. Anakin was growing again; he was lithe and spindly, but still small for his age, and Obi-Wan blushed as he realized Anakin probably had to take two steps for every one he had made.

Anakin was breathing heavily, but he didn't seem too put out. "I lost you a couple times, but I felt for you with the Force and found you again!"

The blush became a rush of shame. How long had it slipped his mind that his padawan was with him on this trip through the city? He knew the answer, even if he was loathe to admit it to himself.

"I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "My mind was on other things. We'll slow down."

"It feels like your mind is on many things," Anakin said, starring up at him. Obi-Wan looked back towards the setting sun, unwilling to let the prescient boy look in his eyes lest he know every secret churning inside him. Obi-Wan had just started teaching his pupil to reach out with his mind in order to ascertain the emotions of others. Like so many other things, the skill had come almost naturally to Anakin Skywalker. Now Obi-Wan regretted teaching him.

"Actually, your mind's only on one thing," Anakin intoned. "But the thoughts are so jumbled and messy!"

Definitely regretted it.

Obi-Wan slammed a mental barrier in place to keep his padawan out of his head, but he managed a pinched smile as he looked down at the boy. "Now you're just showing off."

Anakin smiled smugly, then turned to take in an opulent and colorful crimson lighting display that flickered in the dimming light and pointed the way to one of the . . . seedier neighborhoods in the district. Obi-Wan didn't particularly want his padawan to garner a curiosity for what went on down that narrow road, but for now, he was relieved that Anakin's mind was off of him and his own turbulent thoughts.

"Why did you get so upset before?"

Obi-Wan stiffened. "I didn't get upset."

"Not on the outside. But I could tell."

This child was going to be the death of him.

"Just for a second, your feelings were . . . ugly."

"Ugly?"

"Yeah, it felt like when Watto would lose while betting on the pod-races, and he knew that he wasn't getting what he wanted."

Obi-Wan picked up the pace again. Anakin could run behind him if he wanted.

"They were only ugly for a second, Master," Anakin continued. "Then they were just . . . really messy. Like my workbench when I'd work on 3PO."

How could the child sense so much but not sense that he didn't want to talk about it?

"Was it because of the angel on the viewscreen in the plaza?"

"What?"

"The angel. With the blond hair and the crown on her head."

Obi-Wan bit his lip. "She's not an angel, Anakin."

"But it is about her?"

"Anakin."

There must have been just enough of an edge in Obi-Wan's voice that his padawan fell silent.

Infinitely long shadows gave way to darkness just as they made it back to the Jedi Temple. Making their way up the front steps, Obi-Wan bade Anakin head for the padawan dormitories and get ready for bed. They had an early training session the next morning, and Obi-Wan reminded him as such, as Qui-Gon used to do with him.

Anakin raced ahead of him, swinging his arms as he took the stairs two at a time. He reached the top first and leaned against one of the pilons near the front door of the temple. He turned back to Obi-Wan, eyes alight with curiosity.

"Maybe you'll tell me about her when I'm older?"

For the second time that night, Anakin's voice stopped Obi-Wan in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Master Windu and Master Ki-Adi-Mundi standing by one of the other pilons, looking out over the courtyard. He didn't want to risk them overhearing, so he lowered his voice and said, "When you're older, padawan."

Anakin scampered off with a smile on his face, not knowing that Obi-Wan fully intended that he would never know about that. No one would.

Obi-Wan looked to his right and found Master Windu's eyes on him. He gave a polite bow, but his heart pounded as he considered whether the experienced Jedi could read his emotions as deftly as Anakin had.

He jogged up the remaining stairs, heading for the knights' quarters. Obi-Wan passed several other knights, convinced they, too, could hear his heart beating as loudly he could. This place of peace, with the tall ceilings and the great columns of unmovable stone, felt suffocating. His stomach churned and he contemplated ducking into the refresher on this level, but the nausea abated and he continued toward his room. He needed to meditate, he needed to find his center, he needed to get rid of the ugly that was still inside of him . . .

So why were his feet taking him up two stories and towards the communication center?

Obi-Wan was standing in front of the locked door before he even knew what was happening. At this time of night, the main communications wing would be empty. Only the emergency comm room – a smaller drain on resources – would be manned through the night. That didn't mean that the consoles couldn't be used if necessary. However, the room was off-limits to all but the Jedi masters and anyone who had the code to get in.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan had the code.

Two days before, Master Sifo-Dyas had asked him to stand in for him for a communication that required the entire counsel – or hand-picked representatives standing in for them – to be present. The code would be reset at the start of the coming week, but right now, it would still be active.

Obi-Wan Kenobi prided himself on the fact that the masters trusted him – a recently appointed Jedi knight – with such authority. He was certain the only reason they did is because he wasn't the kind of man to abuse that power.

But here he was, punching in the code that would cause the door to hiss open.

Like he suspected, the wing was deserted. He stepped inside and waved his arm behind him to close the door.  He opted not to turn on the lights. He remembered the layout well enough, and this seemed to be something better done in the dark.

Lies. Guilt. Secrets.

They all came in the dark.

Obi-Wan's stomach rebelled again, but he pushed it away. The ugly feeling inside him was almost welcome in comparison.

The Jedi knight moved to the holotable. The device powered on thanks to his proximity, bathing the room in a ghostly blue light.

Now he could see the keypad.

With shaking fingers, he put in the personal location combination. It was a miracle that he remembered it; he should have had no reason to.

He pressed enter and wanted to throw up.

The seconds stretched immeasurably.

What if she wasn't there? There would be no second shot at this.

No, it would be the middle of the night on Mandalore. For a moment, he felt guilty about waking her, but at least she would be there.

And yet.

What if he wasn't waking her?

What if she wasn't alone?

The ugliness inside Obi-Wan exploded.  It swelled until it threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't breathe, but he recognized the ugly for what it was.

Suspicion.

Jealousy.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Force.

"Obi-Wan?"

She was there.

And the ugly dissipated so quickly it nearly floored him.

Peace. Beauty. Tranquility.

"Obi-Wan?" Her voice was tinny from the broadcast, and he could hear the sleepy anxiety that always came from a late-night communication. "Is that you?"

"Satine?" He ignored the boyish crack his voice made and moved closer to the device so that it would pick up his image.

"Obi-Wan!"  He registered the moment that her eyes found him. He expected – hoped – she would be excited to see him. It had been so long.  "Is everything alright? Are we in any danger?"

The professional tone threw him for a loop, and Obi-Wan felt a fool.  Even in her flowing white nightdress, she looked so regal, so in command. In his haste . . . his folly . . . he'd forgotten that this wasn't his Satine. This was the Duchess of Mandalore, a woman who, in the last six years had become responsible for a system of billions. She had far more pressing matters than the one he'd felt compelled to call about.

Obi-Wan straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. "No, your Highness, there's no danger. Nothing like that."

"Oh?" He swore he could see the hologram's eyebrow raise.

"No." He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how shabby he must look after a long day in the city. "In fact, this communication is not one of an official capacity."

She didn't say anything, but Obi-Wan could see her breathing.

"Duchess?"

"You saw the news report."

Obi-Wan held his breath. "Is it true?"

She looked ready to say something, but then the hologram rippled as Satine turned, clearly addressing someone in the room. "No, I'm fine, dear. I'll be right out."

She was with someone.

The knot in his stomach twisted into an angry blackhole that threatened to swallow him whole. No, not a blackhole. A supernova that would implode and devastate everything it could touch. Was this rage? He'd felt this once before, when he'd watched the red demon snuff the life from his beloved master. But he'd had a lightsaber, and he'd rendered justice. Now . . . his rage burned towards a faceless man, who had taken what he never could've had.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to shut the holotable down and run from the room.

"Obi?"

Her voice was an anchor, reminding him of his duty; the boundaries put in place long ago. The words rushed out. "Lady Kryze, I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your evening. This matter is certainly none of my business, and I'm very happy for you and your intended. I was calling to . . . to simply offer my congratulations."

"Are you done?"

Obi-Wan's brow wrinkled. "My lady?"

"There's no one here. I'm not getting married. You're a terrible liar, and envy's not a good look on you."

"I – you're," he stammered heavily, "what?"

She fisted her hands in her hair in frustration. "Ka'ra, you're as hopeless now as you were six years ago."

The insult brought his mind back into focus.

"I'm not the one getting married to the Duke of Taris."

"You're not getting married at all!"

He didn't have anything to say to that. Because that was the problem, wasn't it.

The silence stretched on until Satine said, softly, "I was speaking with my handmaiden. There have been some . . . threats, recently. She was checking that I was alright."

The simmering anger redirected itself towards her unknown assailants, and Obi-Wan jumped at the chance to offer something of value. "I could speak to the Council. They could send a protector."

Maybe it'd be him..

But it had the opposite effect, and Satine's face grew impassive. "I don't need a protector, Obi-Wan. We're handling the threat just fine on our own."

"Of course, your grace." He met her cordial tone, but Satine must have forgiven him the oversight, because she softened again. Qui-Gon had taught her to meditate to relative success, but her emotions had always been volatile, and his own – which he wanted to believe were more carefully controlled – tended to follow hers.

"Besides, how would you tell them I need a protector?" she teased. "You called my personal chambers . . . in the middle of the night . . . from a terminal in the Jedi Temple . . . on your own. I have to assume you didn't have permission to do that."

Obi-Wan flushed. The extent of his trespass registered with him, and he realized he'd have to sabotage the call log in order to keep the secret safe. The deception would continue.

"That doesn't sound like you, Master Jedi."

It wasn't. Except that . . .

He said nothing, but Satine seemed to read his thoughts.

"I'm not marrying the duke," she assured him, tucking her loose hair behind her ears; it was longer than it'd been before. "He's rich and powerful, but he's also spoiled and hopelessly ridiculous."

"But the news . . ."

"Rumors and hearsay! They're nothing but tabloids." She waved her hand in dismissal.  "I wouldn't put it past the duke to have spread them himself! They're all the same."

"All?"

"This isn't the first time I've had offers, Obi," she said. "Frankly, I'm surprised this is the first one you've heard of."

More burning in his gut. Force, give me peace. He realized just how stupid he was.

"Of course you have," he said, trying to attach a smile to his face. "Why wouldn't you? You're the Duchess of Mandalore, and I'm an idiot. Ni di'kut. Isn't that how you say it?"

"No, Ben, you're not that bad," Satine smiled. "Perhaps utreekov, but not di'kut."

He huffed and remembered that she had called him that numerous times during their year together. "That's hardly any better."

"It's a little better," she said, wrinkling her nose good-naturedly.

She did look like an angel, with her hair spilling over her shoulders and her white nightdress and the haloed effect of the holotable.

Beautiful. Peaceful. Serene.

And completely untouchable.

He ached to be with her, if only to hold her hand like they'd done in the evenings when Qui-Gon was away. But the physical distance mirrored the insurmountable gap between them, and though Obi-Wan's rage released into the Force, it was replaced by a sadness that, even now, he foresaw as his perpetual companion.

"Will you accept one of them?"

It was little more than a whisper as he stared down at her feet. He needed to know. Needed to hear it from her. Needed to make peace with it.  To crush the last lingering ray of hope that he now realized had been smoldering inside him for six years.

"Shouldn't I?"

Hope flared. His eyes snapped to hers.

The question could have been rhetorical but her own pointed expression confirmed it wasn't.

"Satine . . . I – I," he trailed off.  It was so tempting.

A lifetime of possibilities flashed in his eyes: arriving on Mandalore in civilian clothes and no vow save for the one he would make to her; supporting her in rebuilding her society and protecting her from those who would see it crumble; raising their children . . . a ginger-haired daughter and a blond-headed boy and . . .

Anakin.

She smiled sadly, always taking control was he was indecisive. "I sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

No, please ask!

"I saw you on the holonet with a little boy with a braid. That must be your padawan?"

He refused to wonder whether she was keeping tabs on him on the net or if she'd simply stumbled on the news story by accident.

"Yes. Master Qui-Gon handpicked him before . . ." he trailed off. "He asked me to train him."

"I miss him," she said, her voice forlorn and distant.

"As do I." In spite of himself, Obi-Wan reached out his hand toward the hologram. With little hesitation, Satine lifted her arm as well. The hologram rippled like waves in a pond as her tiny immaterial hand brushed his. Obi-Wan imagined the feel of her skin against his and refused to drop his arm.

"Anakin's very special, Satine," he said. "Qui-Gon believed he'll have an important role in this story."

The story. The grand story. The story foretold by the prophecies Qui-Gon believed so dearly.

"Then I'm certain he will."

A story much bigger than the two of them.

"I can't leave him, Satine."

"I know."

"I just wish . . ."

"Me too." There was no animosity in her voice, only resignation. Her eyes focused on where their hands still rested against one another, and then she lowered her arm. Obi-Wan felt the absence as if he were missing a limb.

"He will do great things, Obi-Wan. As will you. Master Qui-Gon would be proud." She smiled softly. "As am I."

"High praise from the one who has already done great things," he returned, hoping that his cordial words still conveyed the affection he'd never be able to offer.  The warmth of her smile convinced him that she knew.

He drank in the sight of her, knowing that he'd just have to forget again later.

"Jate'ca, Satine."

"Good-night, ner jetii. May the Force always be with you."

Her words echoed in his ears, and then the hologram flickered out of existence, leaving Obi-Wan in darkness save for the illumination of several backlit keypads.

Obi-Wan starred at the last place her image had rested. Into the Force, he released the envy he felt over her future – whatever, or whomever, that may include.  He recalled his mission as a Jedi, his duty toward Anakin, the purpose of his vow, and believed that it was enough.

"Good-bye, my duchess."

He returned to his quarters to meditate on the will of the Force.

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 20

As the lady left, Parna handed Satine her buzzing comm.

“It’s Ben.” the Duchess gasped.

“I’ll,” Parna practically ran, “be outside.”

Satine clicked to respond.

“Excuse me, Cody.”

The Duchess waited until she heard a door close.

“I know you must be furious-”

“Satine,” the Jedi interrupted, “I’m worried.”

“Honestly,” the Duchess confessed, “so am I.”

A knock graced the door and Khaami poked her head in.

“Celery?”

Satine grinned and took the plate, “Thank you, Khaami.”

The lady curtsied and left.

“Celery?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Cravings.” Satine answered.

“Ah,” the Jedi grew pensive, “how are they?”

Satine giggled, “Baby A is a fighter, she kept kicking during the meeting today.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yes, fortunately Baby B seems to like her beauty rest.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, “My girls.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Ben,” Satine began, “about our four eldest children-”

Obi-Wan frowned, “I assume they aren’t receptive to the idea of meeting me.”

“Circumstance will push them into your path,” Satine responded, trying to be kind, “but I’d love to tell you about them.”

“Oh?”

“Mara is the youngest of our grown ones,” Satine’s pictured the girl in her mind, “she has your hair and is quite convincing when it comes to the mind.”

The Jedi gaped.

“Come now, Obi,” Satine  gestured, “you needn’t worry, she was raised by my lady’s brother.”

“What’s he like?”

Satine faltered, “A criminal.”

Obi-Wan began to cough, the Duchess laughed.

“She has a heart of gold, though, our Mara,” Satine smiled, “and I gave her access to the palace library, she’s told me archeology interests her.”

“A scholar?” asked the Jedi.

“No, Ben,” Satine shook her head, “that’s more Tristan, her twin brother.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes glowed, “What’s he like?”

“A studious future doctor who loves to enjoy life.”

The Jedi tilted his head at his Duchess, waiting for more information.

Satine sighed, “He and his brother once snuck down into the wine cellar, fortunately, we caught them.”

Obi-Wan snorted.

“It was his older brother’s fault though, Korkyrach.”

The Jedi whistled, “That’s a Mandalorian name.”

“Obi,” Satine scolded, “he’s our first born.”

Obi-Wan turned sheepish.

“Also,” the Duchess added, “we call him Korkie.”

The Jedi raised his eyebrows, “The Duke of Sundari?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

Obi-Wan blushed, “I’ve searched images of you and seen him in pictures close by.

Satine put a hand on her heart, “Aw.”

“He looks like my son.”

“Acts like it too,” Satine added, “he attends the Royal Academy of Government, and I’m sure you’ve heard about the time he convinced his friends to sneak out with him onto government property.”

“They had a noble cause.” the Jedi argued with a smile.

“And then,” the Duchess lowered her eyes, “there’s Tyra Satine.”

“What about her?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly worried.

“You may have seen her,” Satine flushed, “Quinlan’s padawan.”

Obi-Wan gaped.

“Vos,” he asked, “Vos has been responsible for raising my daughter?”

“Only one of them.”

The Jedi sighed, “I always felt her force signature was strange.”

Satine frowned, “So it’s possible to sense children, then?”

Obi-Wan understood immediately, “If Count Dooku visited you, he would likely feel the twins, yes.”

The Duchess took out her anger on a piece of celery.

The Jedi shook his head, “I can’t believe my daughter is a Republic Spy.”

“I heard about that,” Satine confessed, “does she do dangerous things?”

“Not as much as her Master,” Obi-Wan paused, “God. I have to thank him.”

The Duchess swallowed, “So you’re being traded for Master Fisto?”

There was a soft pleasantness in Obi-Wan’s voice, “Yes, two weeks and I’ll be back.”

“Wonderful,” Satine breathed, “that’s wonderful.”

The Jedi sighed, “I’m still upset you decided to keep this from me for nearly eighteen years.”

“It seemed like the right idea at the time,” Satine confessed, “I’m sorry, Ben.”

“How could it seem right?” Obi-Wan spat.

The Duchess sensed this would be a wound that would never close.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”

The Jedi leaned up against the wall, “That’s it.”

Satine kept a cool tone, “I’ve loved my children since the moment I knew they existed, and I’ve sacrificed so much so that they could live. Anything that would’ve jeopardized that, including telling you, was something I couldn’t afford to do.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, “I understand why you did what you did, but I don’t know if I will ever forgive you.”

“I expected as much.” Satine admitted.

After a moment, the Jedi stood upright.

“When can I meet the children,” he asked, “I want to see them all together, is that safe?”

“If Tyra comes to Mandalore with Quinlan,” Satine began, “then all our children will be within easy reach.”

“She’ll only come if Count Dooku decides to court you.”

Satine deflated.

“By the way,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “I don’t like this marriage scheme.”

“Honestly, neither do I.” the Duchess agreed.

The Jedi gestured wildly, “Then why?”

“To protect my people,” Satine sighed, grabbing a piece of celery, “we intercepted some of his operatives, he wants to take Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “So you want to give him another option first.”

“Yes.”

The Jedi frowned, “Do not underestimate Count Dooku.”

“I won’t,” Satine shook her head, “they say he’s cunning.”

“He’s almost bested me at times.” Obi-Wan confessed.

“Not you,” Satine gasped, “Anakin mentioned he complimented you once.”

Obi-Wan snorted.

“What?”

The Jedi raised an eyebrow, “Oh, so you talk with Anakin now, do you?”

��He and Pamde have,” Satine paused, “similar circumstances.”

“Children?”

“No,” the Duchess shook her head, “but they’re married-”

“What!”

“And Padme wants a few.”

Satine laughed at Obi-Wan’s gaff.

“It’s true,” she winked, “how do you think we get along so well?”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Ahsoka called you ‘Momdalore”’ in passing the other day.”

The Duchess grinned, “She asked me to my face if she could call me that.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “What a strange family we are.”

Satine felt hopeful, “Family?”

The Jedi didn’t shy away from the question, “Well what else would I call the mother of my children?”

The Duchess blushed, he had a point.

“Have you thought about names?” Obi-Wan asked out of the blue.

“I,” Satine paused, “I like two names.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.” the Jedi prodded.

“Lyra,” Satine smiled, “it’s an ancient constellation.”

“Beautiful.” whispered Obi-Wan, eyes shining.

“And,” the Duchess hesitated, “I was hoping to name the other one Jynn.”

Satine looked at her Jedi, he was at war with himself.

“If you don’t like it-”

“I love it,” Obi-Wan spurred, “but, could the connection be a problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her force signature,” the Jedi frowned, now serious, “it would be reminiscent of mine and yours.”

“I don’t know where she’ll be raised, Ben.”

Obi-Wan straightened.

“Obi,” Satine swallowed, “they can only live at the Temple if they manifest abilities. I can’t claim another false sibling. Mara had to be raised by a criminal for crying out loud!”

“Despite all this,” the Jedi forced Satine’s eyes to his, “and you still keep them?”

“I love every part of you I have,” the Duchess answered without hesitation, “I will always keep them.”

Obi-Wan reached out, as if to caress her cheek. Then flinched, realizing he couldn't.

“Two weeks.” Satine offered.

“Two weeks.” Obi-Wan repeated.

An unsure pause, hesitation.

“Sleep well, darling.”

“Goodnight, Obi.”

Duchess Satine awoke naturally the next morning, which was strange, because Parna or Khaami usually came to her. 

“I really should see the Duchess.” urged the Prime Minister.

“I can tell her whatever is necessary.” Gorg replied.

“You are the Captain of the Guard, correct?”

“Yes.”

Whispers followed, then receding footsteps. Gorg knocked and poked his head in.

“The tabloids are having a field day,” his eyes finding her stomach, “Count Dooku announced his intentions to court you an hour ago. Also, your stepping down on the Council turned some heads.”

Satine groaned.

“Khaami has gone to greet Padawan Tyra, who the council decided to send only,” Gorg continued, “Parna called to have Korkie sent home for lunch and many Mandalorians aren’t pleased.”

The Duchess paled.

“I should also warn you that there are fears of violent demonstrations-”

“Stop,” Satine’s voice wobbled, “tell Parna to come to me immediately.”

The Duchess jumped out of bed and ran to her closet, searching for anything and everything white.

“My lady-”

“Help me dress,” Satine interjected, “quickly.”

Parna obeyed, and in ten minutes the Duchess had her corset tight and a simple gown over her head made of ivory lace.

“My hair should be pulled back,” Satine added, “let them see my face.”

“Of course.”

By the time Parna finished, Satine wondered if she had made a huge mistake, and voiced her concerns to her lady.

“You are doing what is right to protect Mandalore,” Parna assured, “the people will see that soon enough.”

The Duchess nodded and went in search of her Prime Minister, on the way, she found Khaami and Tyra.

“Your Grace,” the Jedi curtsied, speaking in Mando’a, “I am here for your assistance in anything you might need.”

A sob escaped Satine’s throat and she held out her arms. Tyra embraced her fully.

“A Padawan for protection,” Jaru Djarin observed, “let us hope this helps.”

“I will stay in the shadows,” Tyra frowned, “the Jedi Council would prefer I remain out of sight.”

“As would I.” the Prime Minister agreed.

Khaami cleared her throat.

“Your advisors are preparing a public response to the Count,” she stated, “and there’s a Press Conference scheduled food this afternoon.”

Satine nodded, naturally, these were all very good ideas.

“Perhaps we should set up a meeting with the clan leaders,” Prime Minister Djarin offered, “let them understand what is going on first hand.”

“Yes,” Satine agreed.

Jaru bowed, “I will get on that.”

“Khaami,” Satine turned, “I would like my nephew’s close acquaintance, Tristan Wren to be at the palace as well, can you make that happen?”

The lady curtsied, “Yes, Your Grace.”

The Duchess pulled Parna close.

“Ask your brother to come visit.” she ordered.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Parna nodded.

Satine smiled at Tyra, “Padawan, may I present my head guards, Gorg and Jaym.”

Tyra extended her hand, and said that she was happy to help protect the Duchess, in Mando’a, of course.

“A Mandalorian Jedi?” whispered Jaym, in awe.

“Please,” Satine was proud at her daughter’s graceful conduct, “call me Tyra.”

“Tyra.”

“Come now,” Satine instructed, “I have to meet with my advisors.”

Everyone around the table looked worried, even after they had prepared the answers to specific questions and given Satine an exact script to read from. Satine’s poll had also arrived. 40% of Mandalorians wanted to stay neutral, 50% disagreed and wanted to choose a side so they wouldn’t be affected, another 10% were unsure. They had an hour till the press conference.

“Perhaps the best way to hide your Padawan is in plain sight,” Prime Minister Djarin advised, “make her one of your ladies, have her follow you wherever.”

Satine gave a small smile, “I would like that.”

“Come, Padawan Tyra,” Parna stood, grinning, “I will help you change into clothing befitting a Mandalorian noblewoman.”

Tyra beamed, and Satine gave her a wink before they left the room.

“I suggest you eat something, Your Grace,” Khaami advised, “it’s been quite the day.”

“Yes,” Satine stood, “I would like that, thank you.”

After she ate, Parna returned with Tyra. The Duchess gasped when she saw her. Dressed in a navy blue dress cinched at the waist with a purple belt and her hair up in a braided bun, Satine thought her daughter looked like a princess. She was a princess.

“Lady Mother,” Tyra curtsied, grinning like a little girl, “how do I look.”

“Lovely, Daughter of Mine,” Satine answered in Mando’a, “simply lovely.”

Tyra embraced her mother and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m glad to be of service, Your Grace.”

“Come,” Satine grabbed Tyra’s hand, “we have a press conference to go to.”

As they walked, Khaami and Parna offered Tyra advice on how to behave in front of the cameras.

“Stand still and keep your face neutral,” Khaami advised, “you're only there for the Duchess.”

“And remember to address the Duchess as ‘Her Grace’ in the presence of strangers,” Parna winked, “secrets stay secrets.”

Tyra smiled, nodding.

“And don’t reach for your lightsaber.” Satine added.

Tyra patted her leg, “This dress hides everything.”

“Good.”

The Press room was large and bright, Satine blinked as she took her seat. Khaami, Parna, and Tyra stood behind her. The Prime Minister took a seat on Satine’s right, and one of her unlucky personal advisors sat on the left.

Then, the floodgates opened and voices mounted.

“Your Grace-”

“Your Grace, what-”

“Over here, Your Grace-”

An aide handed the Prime Minister a microphone.

“Quiet please,” Jaru thundered, “Her Grace will answer your questions in an orderly matter.”

The room shushed, and Satine pointed to a reporter in the front.

“We understand you polled the Mandalorian population on their war stances,” began the reporter, “what were those results and did they affect your decision to change your view on the war?” 

Satine breathed in, “Our poll of the Mandalorian people indicated that they seem to believe neutrality is harming them, yet fighting is still an egregious offense that they rather not partake in.”

“The majority of our people,” Satine continued, “though not all, would like our country to choose a side. I do not wish to offend any of my people, however small a minority, but I feel that spearheading the Council of Neutral Systems should not be Mandalore’s priority in that sense. My personal thoughts on the war do not matter.”

The next reporter asked about which side of the war Mandalore would join if any.

“Mandalore will not pick a side until it is inherently clear that we prefer one side over the other.” Satine answered.

“How will Mandalore act in the meantime, then?” asked a third reporter.

“We will continue to operate as a neutral party interested in securing their needs, whoever is willing to offer them.”

It was an hour of diplomatic diverting until Count Dooku’s name came up.

“Like I said earlier,” Satine smiled tightly, “Mandalore will not pick a side until it is clear we, as a people, can unilaterally make that decision.”

“But will the Count be received by your court?” pressed the reporter.

The Duchess raised an eyebrow, “If he intends to come I shall not refuse him an audience, but that is his choice.”

An hour after the press conference ended, the Mandalorian Ambassador to the Seperatist Senate returned to Mandalore.

“The Right Honorable Count Dooku will come in two months” he stated, “there are arrangements he must make first.”

“Thank you,” Satine nodded, “continue to act as my voice in the Speratist Senate.”

“The Count also sent you a hologram to be reviewed at your leisure,” the Ambassador voiced carefully, holding out a device, “shall I give it to your ladies?”

“Please.” 

Tyra stepped forward and was given the device, she then looked to the Duchess.

“My quarters.”

Tyra curtsied and left. Satine thanked the ambassador again, he bowed. Hera met Satine and her ladies upstairs in her personal parlor.

“Nurse Hera,” Khaami began, “this is Tyra, Satine’s newest lady, she knows.”

Tyra held out her hand, “Nurse.”

Hera shook it, “My lady.”

“I called you here,” Satine began, “because I am extremely nervous for this recording.”

Hera frowned, “Count Dooku.”

“Word travels fast.” Parna observed.

Satine sat down and patted the bed next to her for Tyra.

“I’m pressing play.” Khaami warned.

The Sith Apprentice’s blue form appeared. On Satine’s first judgement, she thought he was adequately handsome. Then she remembered he killed people for a living and frowned. Also, she had Obi-Wan.

“Dear Duchess,” the Count grinned slyly, “I was quite surprised to receive your message, though I was very sorry about poor Jaira Deere, I am happy you agreed to put that behind us and start anew.”

Tyra mimed vomiting.

“The Jedi will likely try to offer you something to counterbalance this action,” Count Dooku straightened, “but I can tell you they are going to lose the war soon, so I advise you not to accept whatever they think they can give you.”

“He’s on the verge of telling you something,” Tyra frowned, “but he doesn’t believe you are trustworthy yet.”

Satine raised an eyebrow at her daughter’s insight.

“I look forward to meeting you in two months, Duchess.”

A second passed, then two.

Satine sighed, “I am quite nervous about all this.”

“Don’t worry, Lady Mother,” Tyra kissed her mother’s cheek, “I’m really here to spy on the Count, and report back to the council, I’ll make sure you’re alright.”

“I don’t want you fighting a Sith Lord, Tyra Satine.” the Duchess confessed.

“It’s alright, Lady Mother,” Tyra smiled, punching the air, “it’s what I’ve been trained to do.”

Hera raised an eyebrow, “I suppose this is one of the ones you were about to tell me existed.”

“Lady Tyra is really the Duchess’ daughter,” Parna explained, “but that’s a secret.”

A knock pounded on the door.

“Your Grace,” Jaym opened the door, “the Duke of Sundari is here with Tristan Wren, and Lady Parna’s brother has come with his apprentice.”

“Well then,” Satine stood, “we’ll be right down.”

They met in the receiving room then headed out to the gardens.

“This is my new lady, Tyra,” the Duchess grinned, winking at her sons, “I’m glad you get to meet her.”

“Nice to meet you, Lady Tyra.” Korkie bowed.

“Same here,” Tyra commented dryly, “Your Grace.”

Tristan snorted.

“Come now,” Satine clapped, “I fancy a stroll through the gardens.”

Tyra and Mara linked arms, then pulled Tristan and Korkie into the fold.

“Children.” Parna grinned, her voice quiet.

Five minutes had gone by before an aide came running out.

“Your Grace,” she huffed, “the Jedi Council-”

Korkie audibly grunted. 

“Are on the line.” the aide panted.

“I’ll be right there,” Satine eyed her children, especially Korkie, “do not enter when I speak to the Council.”

“Of Course, Your Grace.” Tyra curtsied, face low to hide her smile.

Parna and Khaami accompanied Satine to the meeting room, where the blue figures of the Jedi Council hovered mid-air.

“Good show, your press conference was.” Master Yoda declared.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” the Duchess nodded politely, “how may I help you?”

“According to info from Senator Amidala,” Master Windu began, “Count Dooku has contacted you personally.”

“He will be arriving in two months.” Satine answered.

“Two months,” Master Kenobi frowned, “he is likely testing you.”

“That is what Padawan Tyra suggested.” the Duchess added.

“Tyra is one of our best spies,” Master Ti stated, “would it be possible to have her assist some of our other friends from Mandalore?”

“She does have that network of hers.” Master Fisto added.

“Network?”

“The criminal friends she’s acquired,” Master Windu frowned, “on her business trips.”

Satine tried not to smile, Tyra Satine had much explaining to do.

“Is it safe,” Master Kenobi piped up, “to risk her identity. We’re counting on Count Dooku not knowing her.”

“Good point, KenobI has.” agreed Master Yoda.

“Perhaps a visit from Senator Amidala,” Master Fisto smiled, “Mandalore is quite fond of those.”

“We are.” The Duchess grinned.

With a loud bang, the Jedi Council doors burst open and a little blue figure swaggered in.

“I’m here because this involves my padawan.”

“You’re late.” Master Windu observed.

“But I came,” Quinlan Vos gestured, “here I am.”

Satine gestured to Parna.

“Bring Tyra.”

“If we may continue, Your Grace,” Master Ti spoke up, “perhaps a visit from a Senator may not bode well with our plan, perhaps sending a Mandalorian to Coruscant would be better.”

“I would suggest the Duke of Sundari,” Tyra grinned, entering the room with flair, “he’d love to go to Coruscant.”

“He could visit for a social call,” Satine agreed, “Senator Amidala is fond of Mandalorians.”

“The Duke of Sundari?” Master Fisto questioned.

“My nephew.” the Duchess clarified.

The Jedi Masters looked at eachother.

“A Mandalorian royal might turn some heads.”

“It should,” Satine stated, “we have ties to both sides now.”

“Look out for your nephew,” Master Yoda began, “we shall.”

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine nodded, “that is much appreciated.”