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"Hey!" Obi-Wan Kenobi protested when he received a hard punch in the shoulder from Senator Padmè Amidala. He rubbed the aching spot covered by his light Jedi robes. "That hurt."
"You deserved it," Padmè said, giving him a sweet and innocent smile. "You made us think you were dead for two months!"
Ahsoka Tano snorted. "You should've seen Anakin, Senator. He almost ran him through with his lightsaber."
"I did not!" Anakin Skywalker protested, although there was still a bit of a hard glint in his eyes.
Obi-Wan huffed and rolled his shoulder. "You hit hard for a Senator."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Padmè arched a perfect eyebrow at him. "Have you forgotten Geonosis? I seemed to have handled myself pretty well there."
"I haven't forgotten at all, my lady," Obi-Wan assured her.
"Good," Padmè poured four cups of tea, all traces of violence gone. "I'm sure Satine was thrilled to see you alive."
The Mandalorian Duchess's name struck a rather uncomfortable chord in the Jedi General's body. At his silence, Padmè looked up at her old friend. Her mouth dropped open in shock.
"You haven't—"
"I can't exactly take a ship to Mandalore without any prior notice or someone questioning why I needed to go," Obi-Wan defended. "And I don't want to reveal myself over hologram."
Padmè rolled her eyes and sipped her tea. "You won't have to take a ship. Just a speeder. She's here, on Coruscant."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "She's here? Why?"
"We had tea yesterday," Padmè said. "She's here to introduce Senator Merrik's... ah, replacement."
Both Obi-Wan's and Anakin's jaws clenched slightly at the mention of the traitor who'd almost abducted the Duchess aboard the Coronet.
"I see," Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard, which was still in the process of growing back. "How is she?"
Anakin sniggered quietly in the background, but Obi-Wan didn't even notice. Ahsoka elbowed her Master.
"She acts fine," Padmè said after a pause. "But I can still see it in her face. She's still mourning."
"Even after two months?" Obi-Wan questioned.
Padmè shot him a biting glare. "You underestimate how much you meant to her. She told me everything."
Obi-Wan froze. Padmè sighed and dug her holoprojector out from her pocket. She tossed it to Ahsoka, who caught it out of reflex.
"Give Duchess Satine a call, will you?" She asked the Padawan. "Tell her to come to my apartment. Don't tell her that... you know."
Ahsoka nodded and stepped into the kitchen, out of earshot. Padmè shooed Anakin in her direction.
"But what if the Duchess sees me?" Anakin asked. "She'll find it suspicious that I'm here."
"Then stay out of sight, dummy."
Anakin sighed and followed Ahsoka.
Obi-Wan waited for his footsteps to fade before looking Padmè in the eye.
"She told you... everything?"
"Maybe not everything," Padmè amended. "But a whole damn lot, that's for sure. The year you and Master Qui-Gon served as her protectors. The incident with the venom-mites on Draboon. Your constant bickering that drove your Master half-crazy. You teaching her to meditate. Her teaching you Mando'a. And even your first kiss hiding from your Master in a ship's hold."
Obi-Wan was certain his face was red, but he still tried to hide his emotions. He sipped his tea, like that would help his situation at the moment.
No emotions, just the Force. No emotions, just the Force. No emotions—
"I see..."
"Don't worry," Padmè assured him. "Your secret is safe with me. And with Anakin and Ahsoka too."
"Anakin already figured it out," Obi-Wan muttered. Like he had about his Padawan and Padmè. "Master Qui-Gon knew, too. Something about our Force signatures going crazy around each other."
Padmè chuckled softly as Ahsoka and Anakin re-entered. Anakin handed the holoprojector back to the Senator.
"Well, then," he said with a teasing smirk. "You'd better prepare your Force signature, Master. Because Duchess Satine is on her way here right now."
The next few minutes were torture for Obi-Wan as he waited for the Duchess to arrive. Anakin and Ahsoka had insisted he wait in the bedroom so Satine wouldn't see him immediately when she walked in. Padmè and Ahsoka would greet the Duchess at the door and usher her in. Anakin would hide behind a large potted plant in the corner and watch the scene unfold.
Padmè had told Obi-Wan he'd know the right time to reveal himself. He thought they were all being overdramatic and ridiculous, but as he sat on a chair in the Senator's bedroom, he tapped his fingers nervously against his knee. Time seemed to be crawling by at an infuriatingly slow pace.
This is stupid, he thought to himself. I shouldn't need their help in telling Satine that I'm alive.
But she was already on her way, and he might as well go through with Padmè's plan. Finally, finally, there was a soft knock at the door. Obi-Wan heard Padmè's footsteps get up to answer it.
"Satine!"
"Padmè!"
His breath caught in his throat. She was here. The door was open, so he could hear everything that was going on in the common room.
"Hello, Duchess," Ahsoka's voice said.
"Hello, Padawan Tano," Satine said kindly. The door shut gently behind her.
"Did you come alone?" Padmè asked.
"Yes, I did. The only one who knows where I am is my handmaid."
Ahsoka chuckled. "I never pinned you for the type to sneak away, Duchess."
"Please, call me Satine. And yes... I suppose it is rather imprudent of me. But I couldn't imagine what kind of trouble I'd run into so close to the Senate building. But enough pleasantries. What was so urgent that you needed me to come here immediately?"
"We have some news," Padmè said. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea?"
"Tea would be nice," Satine said. Obi-Wan heard her voice grow slightly louder as she moved towards the sitting area and closer to where he was in the bedroom. He felt her presence through the Force and wanted to run to her immediately, but a little voice told him to wait just a few seconds longer.
Padmè was right in what she'd told him earlier. On the outside, Satine's Force signature was completely normal, betraying no extreme emotions— she never did. But if he pushed a little deeper, he could feel a little throbbing pain radiating from her heart. The pain wasn't physical. If he hadn't known already what was causing it, he still would've guessed it was the pain of mourning a lost loved one who hadn't passed recently. If one truly loved another, the loss of that person wasn't something able to be gotten over in just a few short months.
"What is this news?" Satine's voice asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Should I be worried?"
"No, not at all," Ahsoka assured her. "In fact, I think you'll be rather happy once you hear it.”
"Really? What could it be, then?"
Obi-Wan heard a crash and a few sputtered curse words. He facepalmed.
Anakin.
"Oh! General Skywalker!" Satine gasped. "Are you all right?"
"Yes Duchess, never fear," Anakin said. Obi-Wan could hear the embarrassment in his voice. "I just... um..."
"Why were you hiding behind the plant, General? Surely I am not that terrifying?”
Obi-Wan couldn't help but sneak out of Padmè's bedroom and down the hall towards the main room. He peeked out around the corner. Sure enough, Anakin had knocked over the plant he'd been hiding behind. Satine and Padmè were standing by him as he got up and dusted his robes off. Ahsoka was still seated on one of the couches, looking unsurprised at her Master's antics. She spotted Obi-Wan in the hallway and gestured for him to hide before the Duchess turned and saw him.
"I simply wanted to see how Your Highness would react to the news," Anakin said simply. He wasn't lying at all.
"Now I'm more curious than ever," Satine said, walking back towards the couches. "What is this news?"
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and stepped out into the open.
"Hello there, my dearest Duchess."
Satine froze as her blue eyes met his lighter ones that seemed to shift arbitrarily from grey-blue to green, depending on the way the light struck them. Obi-Wan stared shamelessly back at her. She was wearing a dark dress with a thin gold belt around her slender waist, her face devoid of any heavy makeup, but to him she was still as beautiful as an angel. Her blonde hair was simply tied back, and the few loose strands that framed her pale, angular face looked a bit wind-tossed from the drive to Padmè's apartment.
"Obi-Wan..." she breathed, barely even a whisper, but he still heard it. If she'd been holding her teacup, she probably would've dropped it.
Padmè, Anakin, and Ahsoka all but disappeared to the two of them as Obi-Wan cautiously approached her. She scrutinized him skeptically, like she was expecting him to be a ghost that would disappear if she focused hard enough.
"Are-are you real?"
Obi-Wan took her small hand in his larger one and squeezed it gently.
"As real as ever, Sat'ika."
She reached up and ran her fingers along his jawline. Her soft touch made him shudder a bit.
Then she punched him.
It hadn't been quite as hard as when Padmè had hit him, but still Obi-Wan staggered backwards, hands clasped over the spot high on his chest, just under his collarbone, where she'd struck him. It was so unexpected; he found himself gasping as though the wind had been knocked out of him.
Turns out generations of warriors’ blood had not been wasted on Satine.
"Di'kut!" Satine shouted at him. He collected himself and straightened as she paced back and forth, running her hands through her hair and ranting in Mando'a.
Obi-Wan never would've admitted it to anyone, but ever since his first mission to Mandalore with Master Qui-Gon Jinn, he'd been faithfully studying the language. The Duchess herself had given him his first few lessons while they had been on the run together, and he wasn't one to let any type of knowledge go to waste.
His emotions slowly shifted from shame and guilt to concern and finally to amusement and adoration as he watched her. She was rarely ever this angry towards him, but it was magnificent in a strange way.
Obi-Wan waited until she quieted and turned back to him before taking both her hands in his own.
"For a pacifist, that was quite a violent move, my dear."
Satine fell silent. She yanked her hands from his and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
"Obi-Wan... I thought you were dead!"
"Yeah... us too," Anakin mumbled sourly, but he was ignored.
Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her gingerly like she was made of precious porcelain.
"I'm so sorry, my lady," he said. "It was vital for me to be dead to the world in order to accomplish my mission."
"I don't give a flying fuck about your mission, di'kut!" Satine snapped, pushing herself away from him. Obi-Wan was taken aback. It had been years since he'd heard her curse.
"You made me think you were dead! I was heartbroken, Obi-Wan! Do you know how much it hurt to feel like I lost you? That I'd never see you again, and I didn't even get to say goodbye?"
He hung his head. "There are no excuses, Duchess. I can only humbly beg for your forgiveness, knowing full well I don't deserve it."
The room was silent. Satine glanced behind her and saw Padmè, Ahsoka, and Anakin watching them intently. She blushed, having totally forgotten they were there.
"Perhaps we should take this somewhere else... thank you, Padmè. I shall talk to you tomorrow before I depart. General, Padawan Tano, good evening."
Padmè nodded, and Satine grabbed her crimson cloak from the hook on the wall. She slipped it on before leaving the apartment. Obi-Wan followed her. He glanced back at Anakin nervously, but his former apprentice just waved his hand in a go on gesture.
Satine led him to where her speeder was waiting. She climbed into the driver's seat and waited for him to get in beside her.
"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan asked.
"My apartment," she replied. "I thought it would be best to talk without an audience watching us like some soapy holodrama."
"Of course, Your Highness."
It was a very short drive back to Satine's apartment that she stayed in whenever she visited Coruscant on business. Obi-Wan didn't notice any guards, just a couple security sensors the Duchess deactivated with a touch of her hand. They walked inside and stood in the middle of the living room. Satine had her arms crossed as she looked at him, like what am I going to do with you?
"Why?" she asked after a long pause. Obi-Wan noticed glassy tears welling in her blue eyes. "Why did you fake your own death?"
Obi-Wan took her hand gently and guided her to the couch, where the two sat as he explained everything that had happened.
"Your funeral was one of the worst days of my life," Satine confessed. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time he was speaking, but he could tell she believed him. The tale was too wild to be made-up. "I couldn't stop crying the rest of the day."
"I'm so sorry, Sat'ika," Obi-Wan said, brushing away a fallen tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't want them to tell you at all, but I'm guessing Padmè did anyway. I thought maybe this could be a story I'd tell you long after the fact, and we'd both laugh at how stupid this plan was."
"Well," Satine gave him a bitter smile. "At least you accomplished your mission. That's all that matters, right?"
"That's not all that matters to me," Obi-Wan insisted. "I hurt you. I caused you pain, something I vowed to never do."
"I remember," Satine mused. "Very clearly."
"I don't expect you to forgive me," he went on. "Just say the word, and I'll go. I'll stop bothering you. You won't have to worry about me.”
Satine laughed, but it lacked the usual genuine happiness her laughter contained. "I've been worrying about you for years, Ben. I don't think I can stop now."
"Ben..." Obi-Wan echoed the nickname she'd given him a long time ago. "That was the codename I used during the mission. Every time I heard it, I wished it had come from your lips."
"Didn't you?" Satine teased, running her fingers through his considerably shorter auburn hair. "Your beard has barely started to grow back. I've forgotten how used to it I got."
"You were the one who told me you weren't sure about it," Obi-Wan reminded her. "I can keep it clean-shaven, if you'd like."
"No, no," Satine whispered. He didn't realize they'd gotten so close, but he could feel her warm breath on his lips. "I think I quite like it, now. Or, I will, once it’s grown back."
"So..." he ventured, one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist. "Do you forgive me, Sat'ika?"
"I see you haven't forgotten the Mando'a I taught you."
"How could I, my dear? You were an excellent teacher."
"And it appears that you are excellent at pretending to be dead," Satine shot back. "If you actually die, I might not believe you."
"You really haven't changed at all..."
Satine gave him a heart-stopping smile before leaning in and bumping her nose to his. Obi-Wan froze. He wasn't stupid. He knew what she wanted to do. He wanted the same thing just as badly, even though it would mean breaking the code he'd built his life on. Half of him warned him that if they were found out, he'd be forcibly separated from her and perhaps even exiled from the Order. But the other half argued that if he didn't, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.
Obi-Wan had many regrets, but he was not about to allow this to be one of them.
He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Satine's. It had been many, many years since they'd last kissed, but her lips were as soft as he remembered. The first kiss lasted for merely a fraction of a second, but, emboldened, Satine tightened her grip on the back of his head and pulled him back in. This second kiss lasted considerably longer as the Duchess took the lead, kissing him with a passion and energy he did his best to match.
Obi-Wan was the first to gently break the kiss, keeping his hands on Satine’s waist. He smiled once he sensed her signature calming down.
“Sat’ika,” he murmured, his normally eloquent Negotiator’s vocabulary as dead and dry as the sands of Anakin’s home world.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “I know we’re not supposed to do that. But I don’t regret it if you don’t.”
“How could I ever, dearest?”