Post The Lawless, wrote it after I, yet again, watched the scene of her death. Hope it isn't too bad. Obi-wan has returned and he goes to his chamber and finds an old photo of him and Satine back when he first met her.

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Obi-Wan heard the muffled voices of Anakin as he stepped off the ship, there was no moment of euphoria as he stepped off the ship even when he just escaped near death… again. He had no feeling. Anakin's lips continued to move up and down, forming words but none of them was registering in his ears, his body felt weak as he tried to process everything that has happened.

Maul. Satine.

Satine.

She was… dead.

His head did nothing but lean forwards as he walked through the temple with his former apprentice behind him, making sure that his master was okay. The Mandalorian armour felt heavy on his body as he dragged himself through the elaborate temple structures. He saw Jedi walk past him, none of them stopping. He put his shields up to prevent them from sensing his true feelings.

"You need me to stay?" Anakin asked lightly. He could sense how devastated his master felt, and he could do nothing more than stand and watch him struggle on his own.

"No." His voice came out hoarse, unfamiliar to him. "I'll be fine Anakin."

"You don't look very 'fine'." The Apprentice sighed. "Comm me if you need anything, I'm just around the corner."

Obi-Wan didn't have the strength to reply to him, merely walking into his room and dropping down onto his bed. His chambers felt too big for him, too open. Yet he yearned for space to scream and yell and shout.

But he couldn't.

His eyes inadvertently diverted itself to the book on his table where he kept all his mission logs and tiny notes since he was a padawan with Qui- Gon. Hauling himself up, he opened it, reading his scrawly handwriting and a detailed note on every single expedition he went on as a teenager. It was his diary essentially, it was a keepsake that he could never let go of, as much as Anakin would tease him about it, in more enjoyable times.

Qui- Gon made sure to tell me we weren't supposed to anywhere near the prison tower during before we went near the prison tower in search of bounty hunters to try and establish some sort of democratic stance. That was our mission… before it went horribly wrong. Bounty hunters shot at us, there were four. They were of Weequay species which weren't all that unlikely.

My master made sure that I would flank right while he flanked left, he yet again failed to mention that he would be trying to capture and not kill them. I almost made the mistake of piercing one with my blade.

Turns out, those were the people we were supposed to be looking for. Although my master did tell me that we were looking for bounty hunters, I didn't really suspect they would be near the prison tower, in my opinion, that would be the last place I'd go as a bounty hunter. I made sure to tell Qui- Gon about my opinion and he merely replied with: "Going to the prison would be unprecedented and unpredictable which is why bounty hunters would go there to prevent being caught."

I admire my master knowledge, I can only hope I'll be as good as him one day.

He could feel the smiles and laughs radiating from the book he was carrying and for a split second, a small smile appeared before falling back down once again. His fingers entwined with the backing of the page as he flipped through those moments but stopped before turning his page to his mission detail of his first assignment on Mandalore.

The Duchess of Mandalore was beautiful, yet naive. She could argue how neutrality would always, in the end, win. She had unwavering beliefs, that I admire from anyone, not just a woman.

He dare not read more, he could feel his heart being shattered all over again or that blade searing through her body.

Obi-Wan slowly closed the book, his jagged movement only feeding to his inner turmoil of grief and misery. He reached to put it back before something fell out of it and flew onto the floor of his room.

It was a picture.

His heart clenched as he slowly flipped it over before feeling the grasp on his heart tighten again. His heartbeat now in his ears as he picked up the photo for a closer look.

It was him and the Duchess during their mission. He didn't even remember when he took the photo, he just remembered it being handed to him after his services were complete. They were standing next to one another, smiling at the camera with his arm around her waist and Qui- Gon somewhere in the background looking away from the both of them.

He felt his well put together facade breaking, as he tried to hold back his tears. He didn't want to cry, he just wanted to sit in absolution and wallow in his own grief. Nothing could beat it as he ran his hand through his brown hair, trying to compose his shallows breaths.

Oh, God.

He wanted to stop himself from replaying that moment. That moment, of Maul driving that blade through her. How he knelt helplessly watching her as her face contorted in pain and the smell of flesh filling his nostrils. He couldn't get that image of her lifeless body out of his head as he cradled her body in his arms.

Her beautiful body… dead in his arms.

"Oh God, Oh god." he softly cried into his hand. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry Satine." His hand was wet and his vision was blurred. He couldn't stop the tears from falling on the pain in his chest to go away.

He fell back on his bed, still clutching the photo in his hands. His entire body shook as it finally hit him that she wasn't alive anymore. How she died because he didn't aim for someone's neck but instead aimed at his waist. His entire face was wet with salty years and his blue eyes, normally filled with hope, turned grey and cold. Withdrawing, only now projecting the pain he was in.

If he was just faster and more agile. If he was more powerful maybe he could have stopped it. He could've stopped her from dying. If came earlier, if he had a better plan. Or maybe if he just convinced Anakin to come along with him.

His fault. Always his fault.

He couldn't stop thinking about everything he could've done differently. He let sentiment become the better of him as he tried to save the person that he'll always love.

"Remember my dear Obi-Wan. I've loved you always."

If only he said it back to her. Regret laced within his mind, the only thing that he'd ever regret is that he never told her he loved her. In that moment, he couldn't do it. His heart broke, shattering as she flopped onto the ground. Her blonde hair, covering her beautiful face. He choked back another cry, if only he said that he loved her.

Love.

Sentiment, love. They were forbidden, attachment was frowned upon and often restricted. He never thought he would feel the brunt of that blade. His cries has slowed with periodic hiccups in between. Nothing could replace the feeling in his chest. Nothing could stop him from missing her.

His hand clutched over mouth as he cried out in grief. He felt his inner being shattering as he tried to put himself back together but with no avail. He had no feeling, numbness engulfed him. He loved her, he'll always love her. Nothing could stop it and nothing could bring her back.

Love was a killer, love was always a killer.

Obi-Wan felt… broken. For the first time in ages since his Master died, he yearned for someone to hug him and tell him it was okay. He yearned to be a child where no war, no Siths would exist and Jedi were merely keepers of the peace.

His sighed, his breath rattled as he felt another sob in his throat threatening to take over. He couldn't even bury her body. He pushed himself up from the bed, the photo still clutched in his hand. He leaned his head back against the wall, staring vacantly in front of him. He could feel nothing, not his hand or toes. The only thing that he could feel was his heart thumping in his chest and the quelled pain in his chest.

"I'll always love you Satine." He whispered gently, "I always will."

I always will.

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