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velidewrites · 11 months

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Obi-Wan’s heart darkens.

It has done so too many times since the War started—that grip on his chest. He knows it is the Dark Side clouding the Force—clouding his judgement, tempting him to do things a Jedi should never even think of. Violence, control, power—Obi-Wan always resits it, even when it takes all his strength. There is something peculiar about that strange tug, though—the very darkness itself. It is nothing like the light, blissful before the War and blinding throughout it. Lately, it seems that no matter where he looks, he cannot see the right way.

The darkness promises clarity.

The Clone Wars (2008) S5 E16 reimagined.

Note: This fic is a birthday gift for the wonderful @melting-houses-of-gold!

Warnings: Spoilers for The Clone Wars (2008), Graphic depictions of violence and death, NSFW

Read on AO3

PART 2/2: The Beginning

Obi-Wan’s hot breath clouds the glass wall.

They are exposed here, much too exposed, but there’s an excitement to it—the risk of getting caught. It would be the first tine—they’ve been a lot more careful in the past.

Right now, there probably isn’t a worse place in the entire galaxy for this type of…meeting. Satine would’ve snorted at the ridiculous term had her mouth not been otherwise occupied.

After all, this is no more than a secret hookup.

One of many and very few at the same time—she and Obi-Wan have been sneaking those moments every now and then, but she finds that they always leave her craving more. No matter how many times she feels his lips on hers, his body pressed against her own, it is never enough. She can never get enough of him.

But Obi-Wan isn’t hers to take—and he never will be.

She doesn’t let those thoughts dwell, though—not now, now when his strong hand on her waist tightens. She can feel the calloused skin on the subtle slit in her gown—roughened, she guesses, from all those years carrying the lightsaber. He has scars, too, peppered all over the back of his palms, thin and white and almost invisible to the average onlooker. But not to Satine. Satine always notices.

She tries not to worry about the latest one she’d spotted—still healing, which means he must’ve got it while protecting her. It the same hand that now rests on her cheek, that angles her jaw slightly to give him better access to where his mouth traces slow, sensuous kisses over her neck.

A tinge of guilt still tugs on her heart, though, so she turns her head an inch to brush her lips over his open palm. The move seems to surprise him as his breath halts, if only for a moment. Satine kisses him again, more boldly this time, and Obi-Wan straightens, his blue gaze darker now as it meets her own.

“Satine,” he whispers.

She wraps her arms around his neck. “Kiss me again.”

Obi-Wan does not need to be told twice.

But then, just as she can practically feel the softness of his lips again, something beeps quietly in his pocket, and the moment shatters like glass.

Obi-Wan allows himself one, frustrated huff before he reaches into his robes for the commlink.

“Yes?” he asks somewhat grumpily, and Satine suppresses a chuckle.

There is a brief pause before Master Qui Gon responds, his voice slightly modulated through the device. “Did I wake you, my young Padawan?”

Obi-Wan glances at Satine. “Something like that, Master,” he says, and she finds that she agrees. All of this—him—has always seemed like a dream.

“Well, my apologies. Now that you’re awake, I need you up on the bridge.”

Satine’s brows furrow, and perhaps that’s why Obi-Wan asks, “Is there something wrong, Master?”

Another pause gives Satine worry. An intruder? On a royal ship? No, scratch that—a Mandalorian ship?

“A disturbance,” Master Qui Gon finally says, as if that explains everything. “In the Force.”

And perhaps it does, because Obi-Wan nods—to the commlink, as though it were his Master standing right in front of him. Satine can’t help but smile at that.

Obi-Wan casts her another glance, something like apology hiding behind his stare.

Go, she mouths to him.

He closes his eyes for only a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll be right there.”

***

Obi-Wan Kenobi did the one thing a Jedi should never do.

He dropped his lightsaber—allowed it to fall to the ground, discarded.

Without it, he’s…

He’s not sure what he is anymore.

And, despite his greatest enemy now standing before him, that scares him the most.

***

Obi-Wan drifts to a simpler time.

They are on Satine’s royal spacecraft again, her body caged between his arms, pressed against the glass wall. In that moment, nothing else exists but them—but the sweet taste of her skin, the soft touch of her lips on his palm.

Satine is all that exists.

She is time and space and life, glowing deep inside his chest, his soul. She is the only light he needs, Obi-Wan realises as she gazes at him from beneath long, blonde lashes. She’s the only light he’ll ever need.

The Jedi would call this attachment. Obi-Wan would call it a simple truth.

After all, there is no attachment—there is only this moment, one of so very few that he almost suspects it’s some cruel dream his imagination cultivated. But Obi-Wan has never been much of a daydreamer, which means that the soft lips on his skin must be real. Which means that she is real, as real as the perpetual tug of the Force on his heart.

Obi-Wan fears that one day, he’ll be forced to choose.

He fears, because deep down, his choice has already been made.

***

The throne room feels cold.

It’s the first thing he feels as he blinks back into consciousness—the piercing sting of hate, of years upon years driven by it. He couldn’t believe it at first, but, in a much more real sense, Obi-Wan has always known. Has always known that, one way or another, it would come to this—him and Maul, until the very end.

Satine kneels.

Her legs hit the stone, and Obi-Wan’s jaw clenches. He isn’t sure just how much Maul knows about her—about them—so he makes an effort not to look in her direction, forcing himself to look into those hateful, yellow eyes instead.

He should’ve known this was a plot—a sick, twisted plot to get to him. He doubted Maul cared about Mandalore at all, about the warriors under his rule—all tools to get what he was truly after. What he’s always been after.

He tries not to feel any guilt—that would only be handing another tool right into Maul’s hands. He tries not to think that, had it not been for him, Maul might have left Mandalore in peace—might have never even invaded the system in the first place. This is no time to dwell in such thoughts, no time to feel.

For Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, there is never time.

Maul speaks to him from the throne—from Satine’s throne, and once again, Obi-Wan swallows the darkness that fills his chest at the sight. “Your noble flaw is a weakness shared by you,” Maul drawls, “and your Duchess.”

Your Duchess.

Satine gasps, and Obi-Wan’s eyes dart to her immediately.

She floats a few inches above the stone now, her hand clasped around her neck as she tries to breathe again. She tries to yank free from a hold that doesn’t exist, from another dark, gloved hand that crushes her throat despite not even touching it in the first place. Maul knows—knows what she means to him, if only to an extent.

He’s going to kill her, Obi-Wan realises. He’s going to kill her because of what she is to him. At last, he’ll have his revenge—at last, he will leave Obi-Wan Kenobi in true, infinite darkness.

The only thing Obi-Wan has ever felt for the Zabrak Sith is pity.

But now, as his iron grip tightens on Satine’s neck, Obi-Wan feels everything.

“You should have chosen the Dark Side,” Maul hums, seemingly noting the turmoil thundering in Obi-Wan’s chest, “Master Jedi.”

Perhaps he should have.

“Your emotions betray you,” he continues. “Your fear, and…yes…your anger.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes.

Maul growls, “Let your anger deepen your hatred.”

But, the way he always has been, Maul is mistaken—and Obi-Wan almost smiles.

For there is no fear—no anger, no hatred, simmering somewhere in his soul.

There is only clarity.

This is what Maul wants—for Obi-Wan to spiral the same way Maul had a long time ago, for them to stand against each other as equals, two broken souls, fighting a war they never should have been part of in the first place. He wants Obi-Wan twisted and wretched by the Dark Side the way he had been, alone and without the Jedi’s Light to hold on to.

But the only light Obi-Wan has ever needed is right here, offering the balance he’d been searching for ever since he first bowed before the young Princess of Mandalore and sworn to be her protector for as long as she needed him. She’ll be the light while he’ll be the darkness—one unable to exist without the other, the way it was always meant to be.

Obi-Wan no longer fears the Dark Side—he welcomes it like an answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask until now.

Maul wants to fight him—to kill him.

Obi-Wan wants to kill him, too.

When he opens his eyes again, he can see the victory glowing in Maul’s eyes—can feel the ecstasy lighting his veins. Obi-Wan almost feels pity for him again.

But then he notices the weapon strapped to his side—a trophy to commemorate an enemy he hasn’t even yet defeated— and Obi-Wan allows himself a smile.

He reaches into the Force and finds a new ally within it—not that bright, blinding light promising to show him the Way.

No, he finds himself.

The weapon cuts through the air before it lands in the hand of its Master—old and new at the same time. Changed.

Somewhere far away, he can hear his own name, pushed breathlessly past Satine’s lips.

Obi-Wan ignites his lightsaber.

In his eyes, it already burns red.

***

For a man so deeply rooted in his upbringing, change comes quickly for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Satine watches it with her vision blurred, still adjusting to the cool, crisp air returning into her lungs. She’s kneeling again, propped up on her hands and with her mind spinning, but for this, Satine will fight through the overwhelming heaviness trying to swallow her whole.

So Satine watches.

The transformation is so minor she might have missed it had she not spent every night in the past, countless years picturing him in her mind. Even his posture seems different—he stands straighter now, more confident, as if the weight of the world has suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. His hold on his weapon has always been steady but relaxed, allowing him to swing and deflect with ease. Now, though, the lightsaber lays firm in Obi-Wan’s hand—the stance of an attacker, of an opponent hardly expecting any resistance.

Whatever reaction Maul had hoped to elicit from Obi-Wan was not this—not the calm, collected warrior, simply waiting for the first, reckless strike. But Maul doesn’t seem to notice this—doesn’t even look at Obi-Wan’s body, his attention entirely somewhere else.

No, Maul is focused on his eyes.

They used to shine a lovely cobalt—the kind that reminded her of the sky, bright and gentle at the surface but dark and troubled deep beyond, with only the stars left to navigate it.

Now, Obi-Wan’s eyes shine a gold that could rival the very sun itself.

They are nowhere near the same as Maul’s—the Sith Lord’s eyes are tarnished with hatred, with anger—soon, perhaps, with fear.

But Maul only sees what he wants to see—a reflection of himself that he could kill.

So Satine keeps on watching.

The guards raise their blasters and point them at Obi-Wan’s back—ready to strike as soon as the order is given.

They should know better than that. Even Satine, though her foggy vision and spinning mind, can see that this…this is personal.

“Leave us,” Maul snarls, and his own weapon springs to life—the Darksaber that never should have gotten into his hands. Satine has never much cared for it, but she knew her people have—and, no matter the outcome of this fight, this weapon will forever be tainted. Mangalore’s legacy, poisoned by Maul’s hateful touch.

The guards obey and begin backing out of the room, though their blasters stay aimed at Obi-Wan, who doesn’t even turn or flinch—he only stands, meeting Maul’s gaze directly, those golden eyes catching some of the light from the heavy chandeliers above.

Another guard enters then, his voice echoing through the large space. “Intruders at the landing platform, my lord—”

Satine almost cries with relief. Bo Katan—her message did get through despite the ship’s ruined transmitter.

“Go,” Maul orders, his voice dipping so dangerously low it is but a rasp carried through the air.

Slowly, he steps down the dais, the clank of his metal feet scraping the stone beneath. He’s forgotten all about Satine, now, a predator focused fully on his prey, ready to strike. The dark glint of his saber casts a long shadow trailing him like a pet.

She tries to pull herself up—to stop this, somehow, knowing it can only end one way. She’s never wanted this—this death, this bloodshed. Not on Mandalore—not anywhere in the galaxy. But her body is too weak, perhaps it, too realising, that, just as there cannot be light without darkness, there can be no peace without war.

And Obi-Wan has to win it.

He has to.

Obi-Wan raises his lightsaber over his head—a stance she’d seen him do many times—the blue hue doing nothing to hide the gold shimmering in his stare. Maul’s eyes narrow, the Darksaber twisting in his hand—one weapon answering another.

It’s a language Satine understands yet has spent her whole life refusing to speak. Wishing for it to die out, as all things do, and make way for another.

She understands now that sometimes, some wishes do not come true. So she wishes for another thing—for Obi-Wan’s warm touch, for his soft lips on her own. She wishes for him to survive—for him to win.

Everything happens too quickly.

She is still too dazed, perhaps, too weak and breathless to truly grasp the speed with which Maul moves as he lunges. At some point, Obi-Wan has managed to shift—to adjust his stance to something else entirely, lowering the lightsaber so swiftly she hadn’t even registered the move.

Neither had Maul.

With the Darksaber aimed for Obi-Wan’s head—where his weapon has just been, casting a bright glow over his face—Maul swings the Mandalorian blade, about to cast the finishing blow.

But Obi-Wan is faster. Smarter.

His lightsaber plunges into Maul’s chest, a small smile touching his lips.

Deadly.

Maul’s arms still hover over his head as Obi-Wan thumbs the hilt, and the weapon switches off, free from the burning hole in the red-black chest.

And then, the raging Sith Lord, the poison of Mandalore, drops to the ground with a loud thud.

“You,” she can hear his rasp, choked from a breathless throat. Some cruel part inside her thinks it ironic. “You have no idea what you’ve become.”

Obi-Wan only stares back.

Maul chuckles, the sound immediately cut off by a strained, hoarse cough. “You truly are alone now, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan looks at her then. Golden eyes meet a pair of blue—sun and ice, balance, as it was always meant to be.

“No,” Obi-Wan hums. “I don’t think I am.”

***

Satine sits on the throne, looking out to the bustling city below. She can still hear the cheering in the streets—she has a feeling the celebrations will continue well into the night.

She’d spent the entire day in the medical wing, every cut, bruise and swelling looked over multiple times until, hours later, she decidedly announced she was fine and practically recovered. She was needed somewhere else.

Now, as the evening beings slowly melting into dusk, she finds that she truly is fine—Mandalore is free once again, and with new allies. For now, there will be peace.

For now is the only thing she has. She will worry about the future later.

Later, because one of her guards has just announced another petitioner. The word makes Satine’s lips curl into a smile. “Petitioner,” she chuckles. “Please send him in.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi strides through the grand door, the Mandalorian armour he’d stripped off of one of Maul’s warriors still adorning his strong frame.

It shouldn’t have that much of an effect on her, but it does. She’d only ever seen him in Jedi robes before—and, well, she’d seen him out of them, too—but this…to see him like this, in her home…A pleasant wave of heat rushes through her, no doubt already flushing her cheeks.

Red suits him.

Obi-Wan bows deeply when he reaches the dais, though his gaze remains on her own. “My lady,” he says in a greeting, and she knows there’s a smile hiding behind that formal voice.

“Leave us,” Satine commands, and the guards promptly hurry out of the hall.

Only when the door shuts behind them does Obi-Wan ask, “I trust your discussion with Bo Katan was…productive?”

He already knows the answer to that—has seen Satine’s sister seamlessly fall back into her old role, mobilising the army to capture Maul’s traitors and keep the skies over Sundari at peace. Still, Satine says, “It was.”

A single ah escapes him, and she uses that brief moment of silence to search those eyes with her own. She isn’t sure what she’d expected—but they are still golden, still blazing with that same clarity she saw while he was facing Maul. More importantly, she’d half expected him to be gone by now—to hurry off to Coruscant, the way he always did. They way he always had to.

And yet, Obi-Wan is still here. Still wearing those golden eyes and red armour. Still looking at her as though nothing else in the galaxy mattered.

“What happened?” she asks quietly. She doesn’t have to specify—they’ve always understood each other, one soul bridged with another, their thoughts and feelings flowing freely between them both.

“I made a choice,” Obi-Wan says.

“Do you regret it?” She doesn’t think she would’ve survived if he said yes.

Obi-Wan takes a step toward her, his handsome features softening into a smile. “Of course not.”

She bites into her bottom lip—an old habit she can’t seem to let go of. Obi-Wan’s eyes trail the movement, and she tries not to think about the way his eyes darken as they settle on her mouth.

Not yet, at least.

“So what happens now?” she asks him, already dreading the obvious answer. “You go back—to keep the peace.” It doesn’t even come out as a question anymore—he is about to leave her again. She might as well state it as a fact.

“You mean to the Jedi,” Obi-Wan says.

“Are they not the same thing?”

His chin dips. “I thought so, once. I’m…not sure anymore. I don’t know if I ever want to find out.”

Satine isn’t entirely sure she is breathing as she starts, “But you are—”

“Not a Jedi,” Obi-Wan interjects. “Not anymore.”

There is no sadness in his tone—and perhaps that is why Satine asks, “What are you, then?”

He looks up to meet her gaze again and holds it long enough that she is not sure he even plans to answer.

But then, Obi-Wan steps up the dais and kneels.

“Yours,” he says. “If you’ll have me.”

She reaches for him, then—for his handsome face, her thumb grazing over his beard. She relishes in it for a moment before she tells him, “I always have.” Her thumb brushes his lips now. “I always will.”

There is a second of silence—as though the world has paused around them—before Obi-Wan’s chest falls, and his hand captures the one on his face. Before he presses his mouth to the pads of her fingers, kissing each one slowly.

That familiar heat swirls through her again, settling somewhere deep inside her—pooling at her very core.

When his hand drops her own and moves to rest on her knee, Satine dares to tangle her fingers between his hair—to pull him closer.

She doesn’t wan’t him far away from her ever again.

“Then allow me,” Obi-Wan starts, his voice lower now, darker, “Allow me to live out my life in service of you, Duchess.”

“Obi-Wan,” she breathes.

“I’m yours,” he agrees, then slides a hand down her leg.

Satine would be lying if she said her choice of a gown tonight hadn’t been purposeful—Obi-Wan seems to have found the slit in the silky fabric quickly, now pulling it upwards and revealing her smooth skin. She can’t help but shiver at the feel of his hand on her bare skin—it has been so long since she felt that fire, his fire, setting her body alight.

When the hem of her dress finally reaches her thigh, Obi-Wan leans down and presses a kiss to her knee.

Satine looses a shuddering breath. It makes him look up—look up and smile as he notes the flushed expression on her face, the slightly parted lips. She knows what he wants, now—has never wanted it more badly herself.

She only gives him a nod before losing herself in him completely.

Obi-Wan’s mouth moves up her leg now, tracing her inner thigh, the kisses more open, more wet as he reaches closer and closer to where she aches the most. Satine can’t help but shift slightly, her body already desperate for friction—for him, filling her entirely, their bodies joining as one the way they were always meant to be.

Obi-Wan chuckles lowly as he notices her desperation—her impatience. He braces his other hand on her other thigh, now, curling his fingers around it, holding her gently yet firmly in place. It crosses her mind now that anyone could walk into the throne room, or fly past the large, wall-length windows, at any given moment—and find their Duchess spread open on her throne with a former Jedi’s face buried between her legs. They’re exposed here, too exposed, and—

Obi-Wan seemingly senses this—or perhaps she said those words out loud—and chuckles again, the rumble of the sound reverberating into her skin. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Satine laughs then—though the sound melts into a moan as Obi-Wan’s mouth hovers inches away, right over the apex of her thighs, and she can practically feel his smile as he understands her plot at last—as he realises that she is, indeed fully bare under the gown he’d so eagerly opened.

“Clever,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his breath tickling her hot skin.

Somehow, she still has half a mind to tease. “You know me.”

He hums. “Indeed I do. Though perhaps,” Obi-Wan says, pressing a kiss to her clit that makes her gasp echo through the walls, “Now is a good time to get, ah…reacquainted.”

Satine swallows. Hard. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The golden glow of his eyes is her only warning as Obi-Wan’s tongue drags clean up her centre.

Satine’s head rolls back, resting against the solid rock the throne is made of, and the city beyond seems to disappear entirely—there is only her and Obi-Wan now, Obi-Wan and his blasted tongue as it takes another taste.

He licks into her like the world is shattering around them—like there is nothing left that matters but the feel of her cunt fluttering around him. She peels herself off the stone headrest to look at him, to take him all in, and the sight makes everything tighten inside her—she needs him now, hard and fast, for all the years they’d lost that they could’ve had together.

Obi-Wan’s fingers move then, travelling down her to her entrance, a small groan escaping him at the slickness there. He licks her again, long and wet up her cunt, before two of his digits move inside her, thrusting in and out until she is breathless and all she can see are stars.

Satine cries out his name, then, overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s coaxing from her as his fingers curl up against the roof of her walls, hissing as she tightens around the touch. He, too, is panting now, his tongue swirling over her clit, swollen from the attention he’s been giving her, from the look of pure, unrestrained hunger upon his face. He licks her like a man starved, like he lives for the moans and the raspy breaths she’s offering him, mindless from the feel of his long fingers pumping in and out of her in a quickening pace.

She’s practically shaking, now, her blonde hair a sea of waves falling messily all over her face. Her grip on his own hair tightens—she is so close now, with her heart thumping loudly in her chest and lightning coursing through her veins. Obi-Wan doesn’t stop though, his tongue flicking at her clit, determined to see her come apart. To see her belong to him just as much as he does to her.

When his mouth closes on her clit and sucks, Satine comes with a strangled cry.

The only sound she’s able to make is the gasping chant of his name as he continues stroking her pulsing walls, riding her through her release. His mouth presses slow, gentle kisses to her clit now, ones that reduce her to nothing but a shuddering mess around him.

His eyes seem brighter than ever when he pulls back at last—like the brightest light in the darkness. She realises then that, perhaps, that is what the two of them are—have always been—to each other. No longer the Duchess and the Jedi, but Satine and Obi-Wan. He has always been hers, the same way she has always been his. For her, he will lay himself bare and become the man he thought he’d never get to be. For him, she will make sure he gets to remain that man forever.

They will fight for each other.

And that will always be enough.

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duxhess-kryzewan · 2 years

Note

Maybe Obi-Wan has been avoiding Satine lately and Satine wonders if maybe, just maybe there might be someone else... Ends with lots of fluff and cuddling. It's good to have you back, I really enjoyed your latest one-shot!

- Only You -

Satine considered herself many things. Strong willed, dedicated, peaceful, among many other attributes.

Her adversaries would declare her naïve and perhaps delusional with her devotion to a peaceful Mandalore, but she's learned over the years not to pay any mind to what others think of her.

But, whether they be friend or foe, one thing Satine could never be classified as if a jealous woman.

Jealousy was unbecoming of Nobility. From an early age she had learned to be grateful for the advantages she had in life, and that envy was a pointless emotion to dwell on. It would do her no good, and came off as pretentious, something no good leader of the people should be.

Even as she got older and her feelings and life became more complicated she refrained from allowing herself to feel something she considered as shallow as jealousy. There were bigger problems to deal with; bounty hunters to escape and a planet to rebuild. Jealously had no place in the chaos of her life.

Yet here she stood, gazing out at the Coruscant skyline, battling the pang of jealously that bubbled inside of her.

It was ridiculous. Of course it was ridiculous.

But there was something about Obi-Wan avoiding her so intentionally that stung in a way she did not anticipate.

They weren’t anything. Not really. Except that also wasn’t particularly true, because she knew they were something to each other even if there were no collection of words to quantify exactly what their relationship was.

She could accept the logical reasons behind his distance. It was dangerous interacting in any other manner other than diplomatic while being so close to the temple. She understood that. And yet, she suspects that is not the reason for his distance at all.

No, she had been suddenly gripped with the fear that there was perhaps another person that had captured Obi-Wans affection.

And that unforeseen fear had suddenly riddled her with with a newfound sense of both insecurity and jealously she hadn’t ever experienced.

Satine had seen them together the night before just outside of the Senate building, talking closely with one another, and she found it nearly impossible to ignore just how intently he was looking at her or how strikingly beautiful the young woman was.

“Who was that girl?” Satine asks Padme, “With Obi-Wan yesterday evening.”

She keeps her voice level, tone bridging on flippant. She wanted to maintain a sense of indifference while also fulfilling her curiosity.

Padme, gracious as always, doesn’t comment if she suspects Satine had an ulterior motive other than innocent curiosity.

“I believe her name is Nadira,” Padme tells her, “She was rescued by Obi-Wan and Luminara from a Separatist prison on Tokadana. I think she was the only survivor. Anakin said she has vital information on the Separatists and their movements.”

“How terrible.” Satine says sincerely, suddenly wracked with guilt for harboring anything other than sympathy for the girl.

“She’s very…” Padme hesitates for a moment, “Attached to Obi-Wan. I think he was the one who found her.”

“And probably the first person who wasn’t there to harm her.” Satine surmises, feeling more terrible for the girl by the minute.

“Anakin says she’s been very helpful, but is also very reluctant to speak to just anyone. I assume he and Luminara are probably the two she feels most comfortable with. You know, her rescuers and such.”

Yes, Satine certainly knew what having Obi-Wan as her rescuer was like.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Padme tells her, implication behind her words all too clear.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She replies, but she knows Padme understands. After all, she knew the burden of keeping that secret.

A day later she’s locked in a conversation with Mon Mothma when she sees him walking through the Senate building, Ahsoka and the girl by his side, and they make eye contact.

She tries not to let the pang of sadness become evident in her expression when he averts his gaze all too quickly.

The senate hearing that day is draining and drags on for too long with no real accomplishments at the end. She was no further in securing a position for the neutral systems in the senate than she was when she arrived.

All she wants to do is go back to her room and sleep. A rarity for her, because she almost never has the urge to forego more work in the evenings to relax, but being on Coruscant always had the affect on her.

She sees them just before she reaches her room, whispering to one another in the otherwise empty hallway.

Nadira is smiling, a far cry from the shy and tortured soul that Padme had described two days earlier, and it rattles her to the core when she catches sight of Obi-Wan doing the same.

Its a genuine one; not the fake grins he reserves for politicians, but a smile rooted in affection. She knows that smile.

She tells herself that it’s simply Obi-Wan being himself. Kind and caring, always doing what he can to help and comfort someone in need.

But another part of her breaks a little bit, because she knows that despite what he says, some part of him is willing to bend the code when it comes to attachments. She was the prime example of that.

And she has no real claim to him, because they are nothing. They weren’t together. They couldn’t be. And she’s a galaxy away, barely able to communicate with him without it crossing an unspoken boundary. And yet, she had always believed a small part of her unabashedly belonged to him, and him to her.

He looks up, catching her gaze. She doesn’t bother waiting to watch his expression fall, she simply turns on her heel and walks to her room.

Maybe Satine Kryze would describe herself as a jealous woman after all.

The next few days are too busy for her to dwell on him though. She’s too preoccupied with securing working relationships with Senators and speaking in front of sessions about neutrality to spend her time saddened about him. Personal turmoil or not, her duty will always be to her people.

But as her last few days on Coruscant approach she can’t help the dejection that creeps on her at the thought of not being able to steal a few measly moments of his time. Even if they were only able to exchange the formalities of old friends seeing one another and nothing more she would be satisfied.

Because even though she considered him the love of her life, she also considered him to be one of her closest friends, something she has very little of these days.

“He and Master Fisto have been away the last two days.” Padme tells her one evening, “I’m sure if he would have seen you by now if that weren’t the case.”

“Yes, it must be.”

She chooses to believe her, because the alternative saddens her in a way she’s unsure how to navigate.

Two days before she’s set to leave she has a meeting set up with Bail Organa to discuss trade routes when an emergency Senate hearing disrupts their plans, and she finds herself heading back to her suite without much motivation to do anything else.

Battling with the senate and the chancellor makes her so, so tired.

She drinks a glass of Alderaanian wine - an apology gift from Bail - and stares out the window, suddenly home sick.

The knock at her door surprises her, though she supposes it shouldn’t. Padme had been making her way to her suite more often than not when they were both alone.

But when she opens the door she finds Obi-Wan Kenobi standing in front of her.

“What are-“

She doesn’t get a chance to get the words out, he’s too fast for her, and suddenly she finds herself being pushed back into her room and enveloped in his arms.

“I am so sorry.”

His arms around wrapped tightly around her, one circling her waist and the other resting across her back, with his face burrowed into her neck. She feels him sigh against her, his grip never faltering.

She’s frozen for a moment, her mind unable to process the suddenness of it all.

But then she relaxes and hugs him back.

They stand like that for one, two, five minutes. She’s not really sure. All she knows is she suddenly doesn’t feel homesick anymore.

When they finally break apart he cups her face in his hands, thumbs stroking lightly over her cheek bones. It sends a shiver through her. When was the last time she had been touched with such tenderness?

“I wanted to see you sooner.” He tells her gently, “Believe me. If opportunity had allowed I would have been here the night you arrived.”

There’s such raw honestly in his eyes that she has no trouble believing what he’s telling her.

“You’re here now.” She soothes.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead, lips lingering for just a bit longer than strictly necessary.

“I had tried to find a moment to slip away,” He tells her, “But I’ve had a shadow following me around for the better part of your visit, which complicated things.”

Satine thinks of Nadira, with her dark hair and fair skin.

“Padme had mentioned so,” She says evenly, “I had guessed you were rather tied up.”

He nods, “The girl is kind, but reluctant to speak to just anyone. I believe her months long imprisonment made it difficult for her to trust strangers.”

Satine’s heart breaks for her.

“I can only imagine so.”

“The council order I stay with her for a few days,” He continues, “I suppose I gained her trust when I rescued her, and they were hoping she would feel more comfortable discussing what she knows with me. It took longer than expected for her to feel safe enough to do so, thus taking more of my time.”

She can’t even blame the girl.

“I’m glad you were able to help.” Satine says, voice full of sincerity yet she hears the slight undercurrent of sadness.

His hands are on her waist now, hers resting on his forearms.

“I hadn’t intended to neglect what time we have.” He tells her, voice soft yet sure.

“I had thought perhaps…” She begins, though she can’t bring herself to finish the sentence. It was ridiculous to have ever thought it in the first place.

She can see it in his eyes though; the pure understanding of what she meant.

“Satine,” He whispers, expression suddenly saddened, “You couldn’t possibly think…”

He trails off too, and she feels foolish to have ever fathomed any of it.

“She’s very lovely,” Satine says carefully, “I thought that perhaps you were distancing yourself to avoid telling me that your feelings have since changed from our last interaction.”

Finally he kisses her. Softly, almost apologetically and it feels like coming home.

“There is no one else I would ever risk the code for, Satine.” He grabs one of her hands and raises it to his lips, “Only you. And I’m sorry that I cannot be there to remind you of that.”

“We made our choices.”

He kisses her knuckles, “All you have to do is say the word.”

She shakes her head, “I could never.”

Because as much as she wants to live out the rest of her days with him at her side, she could never make him walk away from the order he holds so dear.

“Very well,” He concedes, “But please never doubt my devotion to you, Satine. There isn’t a soul in galaxy that I could ever posses the same depth of feelings for that I do you.”

She doesn’t know how to begin articulating what he means to her, so she doesn’t speak at all. She simply presses her lips against his and hopes he understands.

Hours later they lay in her bed, she curled into his side, fingertips running along a fresh scar on his rib cage. This is what their relationship consisted of; stolen moments.

His lips brush against her cheek, a ghost of a promise and she knows deep in the confines of her soul that he was hers, just as she was his.

#obitine #obi wan x satine #obitine fanfiction #obitine fanfic #obitine prompt #obitine fluff

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kryzobi-wan · 1 year

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ChatGPT writes Obitine fanfiction, part 1

#im cracking up #chat gpt #obitine #obitine fanfiction

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iidigestive-readerii · 2 years

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Partners, Perhaps

To say that they were lovers was a bit of a stretch. Great, wonderful friends that fell into bed together quite often but didn’t go out of their way to see each other, but talked as much as they could. They loved each other dearly and would do anything for each other.

Well…almost anything. Their respective careers were everything to them. It was the core of who they were, probably part of the reason they fell for each other.

Well…definitely part of the reason for her. Obi-Wan would always be her Jedi protector. He’d protected once upon a time during the Civil War, then several times over the years, and of course during the Clone Wars so many times…

Partners, perhaps.

That sounded a bit harsh, when they had never lived together…but life was life, and relationships worked in weird ways. Satine had never concerned herself with the intricitates like the Galaxy did… and now as she breathed a heavy sigh and put head in her hands, she realized she - they - would have too.

“God damn it Obi-Wan.”

With a frustrated huff Satine left the ‘fresher, leaving the evidence behind and went to search for her personal comlink. She wasn't necessarily an organized person, and found the comlink - eventually - in between her couch cushions.

The familiar tone rang for a while once she punched it in, and then eventually an option to leave a voicemail appeared.

She hung up, tossing the comlink on the caf table and sinking into the cushions. There was a part of her that wanted to settle in for a good long sulk, or even ring it again, but it hadn't even been five minutes when the comlink rang again.

"Obi!"

The hologram of Obi-Wan smiled, running a hand through his hair as he walked. "My apologies, dear one. The Council was wrapping up a meeting and I didn't want to cut off Mace. What's - "

"Hi Satine!" Ahsoka popped up, a wide smile on her face. "I got to sit in on a Council meeting - it was so boring! How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well, Ahsoka." Satine had always been fond of the girl, and couldn't be more thankful for her help during the Siege of Mandalore. She had been so relieved when the girl had come back to the Order… losing Ahsoka had broken many spirits. "Congrats on becoming a knight - I'm sorry I couldn't make it there."

"It's okay - your present came though! I planted some already and one of the trees is starting to sprout!"

"I'm glad. I know how much you like the fruits and spices here. It's fitting that you have a green thumb."

"Can't say I have much of one, though I do enjoy the fruits of others labor," Obi-Wan quipped. He waved Ahsoka onwards when he stopped, probably at a nook in one of the many hallways of the Temple. The merry look on his face sobered a bit when he studied her face, worry creasing his brow. "My love, it's what, one in the morning on Sundari? Why are you calling?"

Satine parted her lips, trying to figure out how to respond. "I can't comm a friend to catch up?"

"I don't know how much 'catching up' we can do when we talk most days, time difference aside." Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. "What's wrong?"

"...do you have anything important today occuring? Anything at all in the next - uhh… few months?"

Obi-Wan pulled his head back, looking puzzled at her question. Holding up a finger to indicate to wait, he took the comlink and cut the signal.

Tears came to her eyes, and she did her best to wipe them away. When the Hologram came back, Satine was doing her best not to sob - from happiness, fear, some guilt - she wasn't sure.

"I found an empty conference room - there's a Senate session I need to head to after lunch in about two hours - Satine?" Obi-Wan asked in alarm. "What is going on, are you well? Did something happen?"

"Oh something happened," Satine muttered. "Not sure I would have planned it this way."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

There was silence from the other end. Obi-Wan stared, and for a moment she wondered if the hologram had froze. Technology could only go so far. Eventually he left out a bit of a laugh, blinking several times and leaning back in the seat. "What - wow, uh that's - that's wonderful - I mean, if you want to keep it of course - oh my goodness, how - you're always on birth control how?"

Satine had to smile at his excited - and maybe a little panicked - ramblings. "I decided to stop using it, remember? Wanted to give my body a break from an internal one, just use it as needed… I must have forgotten one night or condom broke or we didn't use one or…something."

"Something indeed," Obi-Wan muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face. She knew he was trying to keep excitement down, for her sake, because he still didn't know her opinion on it -

But they both loved children, and given the fact she'd raised Korkie as her own from toddler hood onwards, even as a new ruler -

And Obi-Wan had Anakin and then Ahsoka, and he doted on the Skywalker twins and loved them as his own -

"You're excited?" Obi-Wan asked, finally looking her in the eye. "You're happy about this?"

Satine nodded, wiping away more tears. "I've uh… suspected for a few weeks. Every test has been positive, even the one from the med center earlier today. I…took another just in case before I commed…"

Obi-Wan smiled, moving his hand forward like he wanted to embrace her and settling on running a hand through his hair. "This…changes a few things."

"Mmm hmm - I will not have you choose between being a father and Jedi. I respect you too much for that and - "

" - and we have awhile to figure this out," Obi-Wan whispered. "How long?"

"I'm... ten weeks?"

"Then I'll be there for the next thirty - give or take a few weeks. Not sure how long I can stand being surrounded by Mandalorians without needing a break here and there."

#obitine #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #rots au #obitine fanfiction #ii digestive reader ii

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xxlittle0birdxx · 1 year

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If she had elected to openly have this child on Mandalore, she wouldn't be left alone. Not like this. Not even for a second. Ordinarily, she would be surrounded by family. Her mother. Her grandmothers. Aunts. Sisters. Cousins. They would hold her hands. Help her find a good position to labor and give birth. There were traditional blessings they would chant as the baby took its first breath.

The time on the chrono marched forward, and Satine shifted, trying to find a position that didn't exacerbate the spreading ache in her back. It was a task that proved difficult, given her solitude. She began to regret not telling Nan everything and begging her to accompany her.

The silence gave way to the one fear she thought she had managed to lock behind mental durasteel doors: Could she love this child for itself and not merely because it was Obi-wan's child? And would there ever be a day when this child wasn't a constant reminder of him?

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mercysong-tardis · 22 days

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Just a lil meme for @impossibleprincess35 Obitine Fic “Asphodel”

#obitine #satine kryze #obi wan x satine #fanart #fanfiction #obitine fanfic #padawan obi wan #obiwan kenobi #duchess satine kryze #Star Wars #Mandalore #the clone wars #sw: tcw

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lilianasnape · 2 months

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Soo... I might need your opinion... because I feel like redoing this cover all the time

What do ya'all think?

I literally made a bunch of these.

masterlist

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kazoosandfannypacks · 10 months

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Kiss Me (Obitine drabble)

requested by anon

Obi-Wan wondered if Satine could sense the tension in the balcony air as much as he did.

"The order's reassigning us." Obi-Wan said.

"I know." Satine said. "There's no reason for you to stick around anyways"

But she would've been reason enough.

"Master Jinn told me to say my farewells now."

"Then say them."

But instead of speaking, he let himself act out of impulse- for the only time in his life- responding by giving Satine a hug.

She returned his embrace and whispered. "I'll never forget you."

And with a gentle kiss on the forehead, he let her go.

(a/n and tags under cut)

a/n: This fic is based on this song! I hope this was as fun for you guys to read as it was for me to write!

tagging uhhhhhh @accidental-spice @kanerallels @silverpaintedstars sure i think you guys like obitine

send me a ship and a song and i'll write a drabble!

#star wars #the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #duchess satine kryze #obitine #star wars the clone wars #fanfiction #ff #kazzy writes #kazzy writes fanfiction #the ol' kazzle drabble

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mostthingskenobi · 1 year

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Hi! I really appreciate your work and love your podcast. (Also you're speaking very clean English which definitely helps to understand everything as it's not my first language)

So, I have just finished your breakdown of the "Escape from Kadavo" and I totally agree that it didn't have the closure you'd expect from an arc like this. I think it's one of the reasons why post-Kadavo fanfiction is so popular. And because of that I wanted to ask if you have a favorite one about this topic?

I like the first half of Memoirs of Kadavo by Siri_Kenobi12 for example, but I've read a lot of others and just can't pick a favorite.

Thanks in advance :)

Hi there!! Thank you so much for your kind words!! I truly appreciate you!

The Kadavo arc is the reason I learned what fan fiction was LOL!! I felt such intense unresolved tension the first time I watched it that I went in search of something that would satisfy my needs.

I discovered "Undoing Dichotomy" by @legobiwan 💜 I haven't read it for some time but it was the kind of experience where you find a fic that you can't put down. I stayed up all night reading it. It's such a fond memory.

I have read a few other ones but none that I liked that much. That's partly why I like to write fics...I really struggle to find exactly what I'm looking for, so I write it for myself LOL! That's why I wrote "The Secret Duke of Mandalore." That fic was a guilty pleasure for me. It takes place right after Kadavo; Obi-Wan is so damaged by what he experienced that the Jedi Council forces him to take leave. He doesn't know where else to go, so he goes to see Satine. It's one of my most popular fics. I think even Anna Graves has read it 😅😅😅 Which is just terrifying to me LOL!!!!

I'll have to check out the fic you mentioned. I am always in the market for a good Kadavo/whumpy Obi-Wan fic!!

#obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan #obi wan #kadavo #zygerria arc #obi-wan kenobi fic #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi fic #obi wan kenobi fan fic #obi wan fic #obi wan fanfiction #obitine #obitine fanfiction #obitine fic

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cinciri · 8 months

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Is @weekofobitine say "sneak peaks"? ;)

I'm always wanted writing a challenge like not just a seven days and certain topics, but like a single story. And, yeah, finally I can do it! I'm not sure that I will translate this fic for celebrating, because I haven't so much free time, but maybe I doing it later. I also done two small vid, but it's quite difficult to get pieces out of it, so I present a little bit from the third chapter of my fic "My enemy's son".

~~~

Clad in a flowing, off-the-shoulder emerald dress, his ba'vodu stood in the center of the cabin with her back straight and elegantly holding one her hand over the other just below her chest. Towering on her almost on head Obi-Wan Kenobi - incredible, amazing Master Obi-Wan Kenobi - was a meter from her and for some reason didn't look like a soldier or a Jedi, despite his battle-scarred armor and the Order symbol on the pauldron.

Korkie froze, not daring to make any sign of his presence.

All his conscious life there just two of them. Yes, somewhere nearby there were always guardsmen, Kiyar and Mari, undoubtedly occupying special places in her heart, but none of those who could become even closer to her and to him. Occasionally Korkie thought about what would happen if she decided to marry. What would her husband be like? How would he react to him? How would Korkie accept himself a person with whom he would have to share her attention? Could they ever become friends?.. In the past, overwhelmed by admiration for Pre Vizla, sometimes he dreamed that they would get together. With all the childish spontaneity he even arranged for them something like a date a couple of times. However, looking at her and Master Kenobi, he thought that all his attempts to set her up with the Governor were not only boyish stupidity, but also ignorance - unlike her “dates” with Pre Vizla, now, in the semi-darkness of the cabin, he felt something.

Echoes of the Force, breaking through dozens of blocking devices enclosed in a bracelet, trembled like stretched strings. It was impossible to make out what exactly the Force was whispering about - echo was too quiet, completely indistinguishable compared to the wonderful melody that sounded when he took off his bracelet to leave Coronet unnoticed. And yet even a whisper was enough to understand that in front of him not just the Jedi and the Duchess. The temptation to understand the full depth of their connection was so strong that he unconsciously reached for the bracelet, when, suddenly, Obi-Wan Kenobi turned his head sharply in his direction.

#Obitine Week 2023 #Obitine Week #Star Wars #The Clone Wars #Obi Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Duchess Satine #Korkie Kryze #Obitine #Obi Wan x Satine #Obi x Satine #Obi Wan/Satine #Star Wars fanfiction #Obitine fanfiction #Obitine fanfic

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duxhess-kryzewan · 2 years

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Oh my gosh I love your writing so much! Could you do Satine telling obi wan she's pregnant in an au where he stayed and they got married?

- Unexpectedly-

Most things in Satine's life had come without warning.

The outbreak of the Mandalorian Civil war had uprooted her life so suddenly some day she still feels like she hasn't quite found her footing yet. One day she was simply another member of Mandalorian nobility, and it seemed like the next she was given an entire planet to lead.

Obi-Wan came without warning too.

They had fought from the moment they were introduced. Every day it felt as though there was something new to argue about. Part of her couldn't stand him, with his proclivity for combat and sarcastic remarks. It drove her crazy most days. And yet, she found that the other part of her had fallen hopelessly in love with him.

The realization vexed her completely, because it was not the time for her to fall in love. Her planet was at war, her people dying, and she knew the ways of the Jedi. Attachments were forbidden. There is no emotion, there is peace. A vow that her Jedi protector was dedicated too.

She likes to think it was the same for him. That one day he realized beneath all the jabs was something more complex than either of them would have ever predicted, and perhaps learning he had loved her too was the most unexpected thing of it all.

The night before they were set to part had been spent curled into his side, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. The universe was far too large and Satine knew they were far too small in comparison to it all. Crossing paths again once they parted held all but an impossible possibility.

"You could stay," She whispered that night, "I would never fault you for leaving. But if remaining here is something you would want...just know that maybe I want that too."

She would never outright tell him to walk away. It was the only life he had ever known, and she had a planet to begin rebuilding. She wanted it to be his choice in the end, no matter how badly she didn't want to let him go.

Watching him board his ship and head towards Coruscant felt like a piece of her died.

A week later he showed up her doorstep and had been by her side since.

"I would like to stay," He told her, "Should her grace still allow it."

They had married later that year, and she was saved by him all over again.

It had been seven years since then. Rebuilding her planet had been - and continues to be - a daunting task. Despite how much the New Mandalorian movement has flourished there was still so much to be done. Having taken a Jetii for a husband certainly hadn't helped matter much in the beginning.

But Obi-Wan was nothing if not charming, and the publics opinion of him had swayed greatly in their favor over the years. He was just as dedicate to serving the people as she was, and they had agreed their duties now lay with protecting their people.

He had been on Concordia for the past two days, having traveled for the funeral of a prominent clan leader. The death was too sudden for a rearrangement of her schedule, and so Obi-Wan had taken it upon himself to go in her place, despite her reassurances that he didn't have too.

"It'll be three days," He told her the morning of his departure, "You'll hardly even notice my absence."

"Of course I will," She told him softly, "In case you've foolishly forgotten, I am never not thinking of you."

Because even when she was knee deep in duty, he was always somewhere in the back of her mind.

It was fitting that when she learned of her pregnancy he was a world away. Another moment added to the long list of things hitting her when she least expects it.

She paces nervously around the balcony connected to their room. He had commed that morning to let her know he would be back by sundown, and the hours of waiting felt like an eternity. They had never discussed children. The galaxy was teetering on the brink of another war and Mandalore still needed so much of them.

There were times however when she looked upon her husband and wondered what a child of theirs would look like. If they would have his hair or her eyes. Would they be witty like him? Idealistic like her? Stubborn like the both of them?

For his part, Obi-Wan had never brought up the idea of children. For all Satine knew he could be completely opposed to the idea entirely. Surely being raised in the order meant there was no room for daydreaming of such things. She fears that all the years of being taught to avoid attachment pushed the thought of children out of his mind completely.

Her hand coils around the balconies railing in an attempt to steady herself. It all felt like too much.

“Satine?”

The dread of the unknown had overtaken her thoughts entirely, so much so that she hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Obi-Wan.” She breathes out, nearly falling over entirely.

He stood at the balcony’s entryway, arms crossed over his chest and a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Should I come back at a better time?” He teases, “You seem rather distracted. Perhaps I-“

She doesn’t think; all sense of propriety had fled her the moment she heard his voice and she practically flings herself into his arms. For a moment the fear and anxiety that had held her mind hostage melted away. Even after all this time there is no one she feels safer with that him. He would always be her Jedi Protector first, husband second.

“Hush.” She commands gently.

Obi-Wan does as he’s told.

This pregnancy, too, was just another thing that came without warning.

She burrows her head in the crook of his neck and inhales deeply. Two days felt like a lifetime when they hadn’t spent a night apart in years and, force, did she miss him.

“Dearest?” Obi-Wan questions lightly.

There are too many things she needs to tell him, yet she feels as though the words are stuck in her throat.

“Satine, you’re trembling.”

She hadn’t even noticed. Had she been doing that all evening?

“I-“ She pauses long enough to uncoiled herself from him, “I’m alright.”

He kisses her then, soundly and softly and she worries her knees will give out all together.

“You’re not.” He says when they part, clearly unconvinced by her words, “Let’s go inside.”

Their fingers stayed interlocked as they make their way through the door and Satine feels another wave of anxiety wash over her.

“Satine,” He prompts, taking her other hand in his, “I know when something is troubling you.”

Her gaze drops to their conjoined hands and briefly her eyes gloss over her abdomen. There was no indication to her pregnancy yet, but she could already feel

When she looks back up to her husband she finds his own gaze trained on her. There was such concern in his eyes; such love.

“I’m pregnant.”

She had intended to deliver the news with a bit more eloquence, but the moment she saw the look in his eyes the words came tumbling out before she could stop herself.

She sees the moment it finally dawns on him what she said; how his eyes shift from concerned to something more akin to shock, how his lips part in the most minuscule of gasps.

His prolonged silence scares her.

“Obi-Wan…” Her bottom lip trembles as she talks, the urge to cry overwhelming her senses, “Say something.”

He blinks, almost startled, before finally his eyes land on their conjoined hands. She knows what he’s really looking at though; the flat valley of her abdomen that would soon grow into something more.

“Ben,” she prompts, almost begging at this point, “Please.”

His hands let go of her own and find their way to her waist.

“Pregnant…”

He smiles.

“Obi-Wan?”

In an instant she’s being pulled into his arms as he practically lifts her off the ground, pressing a series of kisses to wherever his lips could reach.

“You’re pregnant.” The laugh that follows is filled with pure joy and that’s all it takes for Satine to finally let the tears come.

“I’m pregnant.” She affirms, cupping his face in her hands.

He kisses her again before setting her down.

“Are you okay?” He runs his hands gently up and down her sides, “You had me worried, the way you were trembling earlier. I thought something was wrong.”

She pauses, having been so caught up in the moment that she completely forgot about her fears from before.

“I’m fine,” She assures, “The doctor assured me everything is good.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, “Thank force.”

“You’re okay with this, then? Truly?”

He shakes his head, clearly a bit baffled by the question.

“I am elated, Satine.” He assures, "Euphoric. Deliriously happy. Surely you hadn't thought I wouldn't be?"

“Children was never something we discussed,” Satine says, “And with a galactic war looming on the horizon, our duties here, I had worried perhaps you would have found the news ill-timed.”

She had been foolish to think he would have been anything other than happy.

"Having this - having you - at times feels much like a dream, one so far from the order I once served and what I thought I could have." He moves one of his hands hesitantly over her abdomen, "Satine, I could be be nothing but overjoyed at the prospect of having a child with you."

Somedays she wishes life had been a bit kinder to her. No planet torn to pieces by war, no throne to inherit while her world was in shambles, no spending days on end running from bounty hunters with an infuriating Jedi padawan and his master.

But then, had life not hit her without warning any of those times, she never would have found Obi-Wan.

"I'm terrified," She admits quietly, before smiling, "But I am overjoyed all the same.”

Both of them are grinning widely, and just before he pulls her in for another kiss she thinks to herself that there would never be a child more loved in the Galaxy.

#obitine #obi wan x satine #obitine fanfiction #obitine fanfic #obitine prompt #obitine au #obitine fluff #a answers asks

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sainzboxd · 2 years

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my sexuality is obi-wan kenobi saying “so uncivilized” after using a blaster in revenge of the sith

#revenge of the sith #obi wan kenobi #master kenobi #star wars #obi wan and satine #obitine #ewan mcgregor #kenobi 2022 #kenobi show #star wars fanfiction #obi wan x reader #obi wan fanfic #obi wan imagine

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iidigestive-readerii · 1 year

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The Good Jedi: Part Four

Satine: Two transmissions came in to the Mandalorian embassy. Call the Council and whoever necessary. They’ll want to see this.

There were many things Mace enjoyed about being Master of the Order, but being at the beck and call of Republic politicians was not one of them. Except this politician was technically not even a part of the Republic. Or should be alive for that matter.

But he called a meeting for two hours later, staying in one of the seats and reviewing flimsiwork from the last campaign that had been completed by his system army. It was a tedious task, and he was relieved when the members started to file in.

Quiet chatter started to fill the room, familiar voices overlapping each other. Mace glanced at the time and rose, beginning to stack his materials. He gave a nod when he saw Obi-Wan and Duchess Satine walk in, about to say something when he froze.

The room quieted, everyone staring at the addition.

“Evening Mace.”

“...Ahsoka.” Mace bowed his head quickly, feeling red hot shame creep up his neck. He thanked the Force that Anakin hadn’t shown up yet. “Dare I ask?”

Satine sighed, walking to the projector table while she spoke, ignoring the surprised faces. “If we’re going to war - and the odds of that occurring are high,” she sighed while putting the chips into the projector. “I need an aide-de-camp, and it doesn’t make sense to have a Jedi General as one if he has a larger war to fight.”

“And a Jedi padawan is somehow better?” Mace asked with the raise of his brow, aware of the scowls shot his way. “Former padawan.”

“I don’t know about you, but having the Jedi that - “

“‘Snips?!” Anakin stood at the entryway, frozen, the light of the hallway on his back. Padme and Aayla were behind him, both of them staring at young woman. It was not a situation anyone anticipated a week ago, but here they were. Looking between everyone, Anakin frowned and stepped down a few. “What - Obi-Wan - what - “

Rolling her eyes, Aayla pushed her friends away and hopped down the steps. She wasted no time, gathering Ahsoka in her arms. The younger woman melted in a way that she hadn’t yet, tears falling down her cheeks.

Mace watched the scene, the two woman whispering, the quick glare shot at the Chosen One, the reunion taking place. Though he’d been hesitant once upon a time about allowing Aayla into the Order at the ripe age of six years old, and then being the padawan of Quinlan Vos… but in his opinion, Aayla was everything that Anakin wasn’t. Powerful in all the ways her friend wasn’t, holding all the ideals of the Jedi code close and so good at negotiation without sacrificing her virtues. She was good at all of it while maintaining so many loving relationships - platonic, romantic… everything.

If he had his way, Aayla would be the next Master of the Order. He desperately hoped so.

Yoda cleared his throat, the attention of the room shifting to him. He forced a smile. “Heartwarming this reunion is, but move forward, we need too. Duchess?”

“...right.” Satine sighed heavily, her finger hovering over the play button. “The Mandalorian embassy received two transmissions this morning. One from my sister Bo-Katan, to the system… and one from Death Watch.”

Bo-Katan shimmered into existence, covered in armor, on a podium, surrounded by her people, somewhere in the mines on one of the moons and planets of Mandalore. Exhausted, fiery…

“Mandalorians! I stand before you not as Death Watch… but as your princess. As my sister’s advocate…and I know you all don’t care for me… but we love our Duchess - you love our Duchess - and they have our prince… and that is unacceptable!”

“They’re fine if you’re captured but they draw the line at Korkie?” Anakin muttered while the Mandalorians cheered and hollered.

“We love our children,” Satine whispered. She didn’t resist as Obi-Wan tugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. The gesture was so intimate, so…

…oh.

“He’s your son.” Mace wasn’t surprised as they both nodded, and turned back to the Holo.

“We are Mandalorians! We do not cower when outsiders mess with us! And Pre has messed with the wrong clan! We have tasted peace - and no more fighting!” There was more cheering, and Bo shouting in victory alongside everyone.

She froze, the video stopping.

Had he known what would have occurred that morning, Mace would have stayed in bed. He had a headache already, watching the video play in the classroom turned war room and and rubbing at his temples.

“...not good, this is.” Yoda leaned heavily against cane, shaking his head.

“It gets worse,” Satine muttered as the first Holo shimmered away and the second appeared. It was Maul and Visla… and Korkie in the background, bound on the steps of the throne. Beaten, bruised, staring levelly into the camera. A small smile on his face like he had a plan up his sleeve.

“Goddesses…” Padme whispered.

Pre smiled at the camera, looking at his partner briefly.

Maul stepped back, igniting the Dark Saber and putting it by Korkie’s neck.

“The Dark Saber? That’s been lost for centuries…” Mace whispered.

“...Duchess. I’m sure this needs no discussion.” Pre smiled. “I have something you want. One hundred million - “

“Surely I’m worth more than that.” Korkie scoffed, barely reacting as Maul turned the saber around and jabbed the hilt into his temple. He went sprawling, fingers loosening and moving as he struggled to regain his balance.

“One hundred million credits Duchess - your bastard for the throne… and your life.”

Maul stepped forward, stabbing the saber through Korkie’s leg and smiling at the hisses of pain. He twisted the blade around before removing it, pointing it again at Korkie. “Tick tock Kenobi… my patience is wearing thin.”

I'm thrilled to have this chapter finally written! it took forever to drag out of my brain, lol. I'll add the Ao3 and Tumblr chapter links some other time - enjoy! Let me know what you think!

#the good jedi #obitine fanfiction #the lawless au #the wrong jedi au #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #korkie kryze #korkie is a kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsona tano #mace windu #ii digestive reader ii #ao3

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