She wouldn't call their first kiss a mistake. But she would come to regret it in time, realizing it was the lighting match of a fire she couldn't extinguish. The begging of the end for them.

It was done in the spur of a moment. It wasn't her first kiss, not that she had many, but it was definitely his. They were hiding away from danger (thought, Obi would deny it to death), in an empty container in a hangar bay. The only noise that could be heard was their irregular breathing, for they had been running just moments ago.

They were leaning a bit too much into each other, so much that when Satine turned, her forehead met his chin harshly. He grunted lowly, and she thanked the darkness for hiding her blush.

''Such a way of repaying me for saving you yet again'', he whispered, and Satine couldn't see him, but she felt his smile nonetheless.

An ungraceful snort escaped her mouth, but then she saw her chance. And it may be the only one she'd get any time soon. She searched for his face in the dark and brought it down to her own.

He let out a shaky breath, but didn't pull away. Satine took this as a positive thing, smashing their lips together.

It was a clumsy, short thing, but her stomach turned warm with emotion.

After letting go of his face, she smiled.

''A get-better kiss''.

He is leaving tomorrow. Going away before her eyes to never return.

Qui-Gon is already ready to leave, he has been for days, but he kindly lets his padawan have some time to say his goodbyes. So Obi is standing there in front of her, with a calm face and tumultuous eyes, saying goodbye.

Neither of them says a thing, and Satine may be young, but she is already a proud woman, and she won't beg. She refuses to let him know how much him leaving upsets her, how much the war has left a tool in her mind and body and how she had wanted him to stay.

Maybe it was silly, the hopeful dream of someone who needed something to look forward to. Her people needed her, she would give everything for them. She had.

So now they were standing in front of one another with a thousand things unsaid between them.

A part of her wants to. The part of her that is tired of giving and wishes for taking, selfishly, for once. Yet the words are not even at the tip of her tongue, or in her mind at all.

''I wish you the very best, Satine'', he says, with a soft voice.

Her lips trembles, not in sadness, but rage. Or maybe both, she can't be sure.

She wants to ask.

''Thank you, Obi-Wan.'' She responds instead. ''This is our farewell, I'll be busy tomorrow morning.'' She doesn't reaches out for him, for one more forbidden kiss. She doesn't even caresses his cheek, where a soft beard is starting to grow.

For a second, his expression falters, and his pain should make her feel better. It doesn't.

''Then it's a goodbye''

He would wait for her tomorrow. He'd stare for minutes at the castle windows, hoping to catch a glance of her. He does not.

She is not sure about what she regrets the most, not asking him to stay or not saying goodbye.

When they meet again, it's by chance of the fate. It's sooner than she would have liked.

They do not fall into a tender embrace, as many ones would expect from estranged lovers. They banter, they argue, and they are very public about it. Qui-Gon says nothing, just looks at them, like he used to, bemused, as if he knew everything. Satine's never had anything against the man, but in that moment, she does.

Once they are alone, it changes.

She does her best not to let him know how much she had missed him, he does very little to hide that he has missed her. Then, things fall were you'd expect them to.

And to hell with it, it's been long enough.

His hands are rough, yet his touch is soft. His kisses are kind, but full of desperation. He has aged so much in such a short time, Satine can't help but wonder if she's had any hand on it. Or if it's just the war, that makes the young be old.

She leaves a trail of scratches down his back. And she does not regret it.

She slips out of the room once he falls asleep, wanting to spare him (and herself, being honest) the pain of it. She doesn't say goodbye and that she does regret.

She regrets not telling her son his father's name. She regrets not telling the father about the son.

Korkie is a blessing and a curse. But the blame is hers, and so, she doesn't gets to complain. The Duchess of Mandalore does not has, publicly, a son. She has a nephew.

She had a world to rebuild. She had her duty and a very big, glaring secret in the form of a growing belly. When her closest ones ask, she does not tell. She refuses to let them know. Her lips a thin line, gesture that is becoming common in her.

She wonders if it would have been different, had he known. He would have stayed, for sure. Because that's the type of man that Obi-Wan is. But Satine is not the type of woman who'd impose that on a man. So she remains silent, limiting her public appearances once her body catches up with the enormity of her lies.

Once he is born she lies to herself, she lies to her people and lies a bit more.

Then there are his words, when it seems that the things are ending for her.

''Had you said the word…I would have left the Jedi Order''.

She curses her younger self for not asking. She curses not staying the morning after. She regrets with a bitter passion not telling him that he has a son, a wonderful boy that looks like him. She gathers the courage to open her mouth, all to ready to spill her secrets and die with them out of her conscious. All that in the span of a minute.

And then the day is saved, and they are all safe and sound.

The things between them are silent, quiet, which have never been. A look is more than enough, but they are not in danger of dying anymore. She wonders what he'd do if she were to ask him now.

Would he leave the Jedi Order, when they need him the most, when they are the only home he has ever known? There is also the war, raging. She can't ask that of him.

Love is a selfish thing, and Satine may be selfish, but she is not that selfish.

And that, she does regret.