Work Text:
“What’s on your mind?”, Satine asked as she rose from where she’d been lying on Obi-Wan’s chest, propping herself on her elbows. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“I think anyone in the building will disagree, cyare.”
“I meant after the- ugh never mind”, Satine said with a roll of her eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair, then smiled. “I can tell when your mind is wandering, I don’t need your Force to tell me that.”
A soft smile grazed Obi-Wan’s lips.
“Of course”, he said. “You don’t need the Force, you’re a natural mind reader.”
They used to joke a lot during their year together that Satine could read his thoughts, which was nowhere near true, but sometimes she interpreted his emotions so accurately it unnerved him. With the simplest change in his mood, she’d know there was something wrong. It was fair, since he could sense her emotions through the force, but it never failed to amaze him.
“Not a mind reader, just someone that knows and loves you”, she said as she laid back on his bare chest. “Tell me.”
He placed an arm around her waist to keep her close, because the warmth of her skin was almost enough to drive away all the dreadful thoughts that plagued his mind. Almost.
“I don’t want to burden you, Satine. Enjoy the night. You’re leaving tomorrow, and we don’t know when I’ll manage to visit Mandalore, or when you’ll come to Coruscant again.”
“Excuse me”, Satine said in that high tone that indicated he’d messed up, “did you seriously say you would ’burden me’? Really, Obi? I thought we were past that nonsense. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but don’t do it for my sake. I’ve dealt with far worse demons than your thoughts.”
Of course. Well, she definitely deserved to know, and they had agreed to share whatever bothered them. And it was true that she had been through enough tragedies that old grieves wouldn’t shake her. So Obi-Wan decided to tell her, even if it pained him to speak it out loud.
“Today”, he started, “marked twelve years since Qui-Gon’s death. No one said anything. No one remembers the day, not even Anakin. It feels like…”
He took a shaky breath, reaching to the force to calm his nerves.
“It feels like I’m the only one who remembers, who cares about his memory.”
“Oh, Ben…”, Satine sighed, raising her head to meet his eyes. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry. You should have told me, we could have held our own little memorial for him. And I’m sure they all haven’t forgotten, everyone is simply too preoccupied with the war.”
It was true, and that depressed him even further. The war, all this despair that had befallen the Jedi, made it impossible to mourn not only for the long gone masters, but even for the ones lost every day.
“Do you still miss him?”, she asked after a long silence.
“I’m not supposed to.”
“But do you?”
Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly.
“Sometimes”, he admitted. “I miss his guidance, and his jokes, and his presence in general. But I also think he’d be glad that he doesn’t have to live through this war. He would hate it. You and him would constantly complain about the war together”, he pointed out with a short laugh.
“I miss him too”, Satine whispered.
“I know.” He had sensed her sadness the moment he mentioned his late master. “What do you believe he’d think of us?”
Satine turned on her back -still lying on top of Obi-Wan- and stretched her arms as she thought.
“I believe he’d be glad we finally figured out a way to be together, even if we only get to see each other once in a while. He and Anakin would join forces against us and tease us relentlessly.”
A genuine laugh, however sad, escaped Obi-Wan at the thought of his disaster master and his disaster padawan teaming up. They would have loved each other, possibly more than either of them loved him. It was a shame they only knew each other for so little.
“Anakin would ask Qui-Gon for stories about us, and Qui-Gon would of course share the most embarrassing ones”, Obi-Wan pondered wistfully.
“Like the time we tried to sneak out of our sleeping bags to make out behind some rocks and he used the Force to throw the sleeping bags on our heads?”
“Yeah, and you screamed because you thought we were being attacked. By sleeping bags.”
“It was hardly my fault, we’d get attacked nearly every day back then!”, Satine protested.
Obi-Wan tightened his hold on Satine, bringing her closer to his chest and pressing a kiss on her shoulder. Her skin was as soft as the silk of her gowns, but Obi-Wan still remembered the days when they were both dehydrated on the run, with their skin chapped and their hair disheveled. And they still thought each other beautiful, just as much then as they did now.
“Is it crazy that I almost think of our time on the run as… simpler times?”, Obi-Wan asked in the dark.
Satine laughed.
“Sure, that’s a stretch, but I understand what you’re saying. It definitely wasn’t simple, but I tend to forget the worst parts, to the point I almost feel… nostalgic for it.”
“We’ll soon feel nostalgic about this very moment, love.”
Satine turned to face him, and through the dim light he could make out a smile on her lips.
“Then let’s make the most of it, shall we?”
Their lips met before he had the chance to answer, but he wasn’t going to complain about that.