They have slipped away from Qui-Gon's gaze way more easily than they should have. Obi Wan sometimes wonder if his Master is purposely trying to make him break his vows. Well, even if he hasn't swore them. He should start to practice the no-attachment rule more thoroughly. It's rather hypocrite of him to think that as he follows the Duchess of Mandalore with an enamored look on his face.
They go through the stairs rather fast, arriving to the ceiling in no time. The wind is blowing lightly, providing some cool to the summer-mandalorian night. The moon above them provides the only light, and Obi Wan really doesn't mean to sound like some of the writers that Qui-Gon enjoys reading, but Satine truly looks breathtaking under the night sky.
For once, there is no head-ornament, leaving her long hair to fall down her back. She seems relaxed tonight, something he is not used to see. She always carries the weight of Mandalore over her shoulders, and there's nothing that Obi-Wan wants more than to help her with it. His Master would not be disappointed on him for it, the Jedi Council would, however…
Stop. He chides himself, stopping that line of thought. It's been a good day, and it promises to be a good night, there is no need of such worries now.
In his own dreaming, he almost misses the amused look that Satine throws at him. He quickly recovers, trying his best charming smile, which makes her laugh. Another thing he has missed. The sight of her so…unguarded.
They sit on a tablecloth over the floor, and Satine pulls out of her robe a bottle of mandalorian wine. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she returns the gesture.
''Many things can be said about you, Obi, but you have never declined a good wine.''
''Of course not, yet, it's unheard of you to be fond of it.''
That was a lie. She indulged herself with wine on multiple times, most in which Obi-Wan was present. They were both quite fond of it, and so was Qui-Gon, truth be told. So it wasn't uncommon to find the trio drinking some after a successful (or not) mission.
Obi Wan had the feeling that the young woman would have stuck her tongue at him if she didn't consider it unladylike. She filled to cups and then offered him one.
''What should we cheer for?''
He half-expected her to cheer for Mandalore and its future, as she typically did during feasts and private parties. But instead she raised her glass and surprised him.
''For us.''
He raises his glass as well and empties it.
The sight of the city it's truly impressive from where they stand, and it becomes even more once they down three more glasses. The bottle is empty, and Obi Wan doubts that she has another one hidden on her skirts. He is not opposed to look for it, though.
There is no banter, no skittering around politics, only her head in his shoulder and the soft buzz that wine brought with it. They could simply fall asleep right there, or freeze the time and stay like that.
Was it selfish to wish for that? Obi Wan couldn't help but wonder.
There was no pleasure found in war, but there was in Satine. The simple bliss of emptying down a bottle of mandalorian wine in a roof told him how deep he was. But being deep wasn't being gone, he could still resist the temptation. It would hurt him, but he'd become stronger. A better Jedi.
''I can hear you thinking,'' Satine's voice took him out of his ruminations.
''I didn't knew you had the force.'' He replied, to which she huffed.
''There are many things you don't know about me.''
He didn't turn his face, afraid of what he might do while having her so close.
''Oh, are they?''
''Definitely. In a relationship, one must have a few mysteries to keep the interest''
He could hear the smile on her face.
''Your Grace, it's dangerous to keep secrets from your bodyguard. We must go down immediately to tell Qui-Gon about anything you may have treacherously hidden from us!''
She let out a little laugh.
''Then he'd wonder where we have been.''
Obi Wan was pretty sure that his Master knew exactly where they were, not that he'd admit it to Satine, who would doubtlessly be mortified about their lack of discretion.
''The blame would be all in you, mi Lady. I was dragged up here by a woman with doubtful intentions.''
She shoved her elbow on his middle as he laughed. ''How rude! I always have the best intentions when it comes to you.'' She sat straight, leaving his shoulder. Obi Wan felt the loss of her weight on him. ''I wish I could say the same about you.''
Her eyes met his, not glassy-drunk, but bright and smart like her normal self. Of course half a bottle of wine wouldn't be enough to get Satine Kryze tipsy.
''You think I have doubtful intentions?''
She grinned in the dark.
''Not that I would complain about them.''
Then suddenly, her soft hands were on his cheeks and her gaze was full of tenderness and-Obi Wan dared to say- hunger. And well, it would be impolite to simply leave her lie that, right?
His hands went to cover hers, squeezing them lightly before smashing their lips together. She sucks on his lower lip, biting down once in a while. He lets out a shuddering breath. Obi Wan is beginning to understand why the Sith were so fond of passion, for that is what Satine awakens in him. Such an addicting thing would drive anyone mad with darkness.
She pushes him down to the floor, while he tangles his fingers in her long, silky blonde hair. He looks up at her as she straddles his hips, and in that moment, Obi Wan is certain that there is not a single woman in the galaxy that can surpass Satine Kryze's beauty. Or maybe he's just a man in love.
Their foreheads bump, and she lets out a little groan.
''You are a bit out of practice, Duchess.''
She smiled once more.
''Then we'll have to do it more often.''