Here we have some firsts and lasts of Satine and Obi-Wan's relationship. Canon compliant.
—
First thoughts:
She looks pompous. I hope this mission is short.
He looks arrogant. Why are Jedi even here?
First words:
"I told you, I don't need extra protection! There's no reason at all for them to be here. Send them away!" A young human female, angry, sharp, turns to a beleaguered-looking advisor on her right. Her hands are curled into fists at her sides.
"Your grace," a young human man says, his tone even, his face perfectly placid. The fists hidden in his long sleeves are clenched tight.
First touch:
A hand lifts, elegant. Satine doesn't look at Obi-Wan as he takes her fingers with his larger ones and bows, kissing the air above her hand, and so she misses the flash of fire in his eyes.
He turns away too quickly to see the flash of fire in hers as she watches him go.
First fight:
"Absolutely not. Opening a communication channel is the surest way to be tracked."
"If it's a secure connection, that would only happen if the recipient themselves was tracking the call! My court is trustworthy. They would never betray me in such a way!"
"And I suppose those bounty hunters had an intimate knowledge of the palace layout and your personal schedule from some other source. And certainly no member of your court could be threatened into compliance."
"We are Mandalorian! Our new creed is peace! What you speak of is treason, and cowardice, and much too dark a conclusion for a peacekeeping Jedi to come to."
"You seem to be under the impression that the galaxy is full of idealists such as yourself, your grace, and that sort of thinking will only get you killed."
"Better dead for peace than seeking betrayal in every corner!"
"Better prepared for betrayal than allowing everything you worked for to die!"
First laugh:
"Has he always been so…"
"Yes," Obi-Wan says flatly, turning his attention back to the soup over the fire.
Satine chuckles. "You don't even know what I was going to say." She brings over some of the food they got from the market and starts to prepare it for roasting.
He smiles back at her, taking a few vegetables and adding them to the pot. "He's been my mentor for more than a decade. Trust me. Whatever you were going to say, the answer is 'yes.'" They grin at each other.
There is quiet while Obi-Wan stirs and Satine threads bits of meat onto skewers until Obi-Wan breaks the silence with a gentle laugh. "You know, that actually reminds me of a mission we went on a few years ago."
Qui-Gon comes back to two young adults giggling like children as they try to keep dinner from burning.
First cry:
Exhausted, but relatively safe, they finally stop running. Obi-Wan lets Satine down and she immediately starts rummaging through their gear, careful not to put weight on her injured leg. Qui-Gon catches his breath for only a moment before telling them he is going to scout the area, and then he is gone.
Out of sight of his Master, Obi-Wan lets himself collapse. His heart is pounding. He doesn't quite understand. He's run faster than that, for longer distances, carrying heavier weights. Why does he feel so weak now?
He jerks awake—had he fallen asleep?—when Satine starts tugging open his robes. Blushing, he jerks upright, then nearly falls back over as the blood rushes from his head. He groans and presses his hands over his eyes.
"You're poisoned," Satine announces. Poisoned? Oh, yes, the venomites. Nasty little things. Obi-Wan nods, still covering his eyes. When Satine tries to remove his clothes again, though, he's still startled.
"You're hurt, Ben," she says. "I'm helping. Sit still."
He's momentarily, happily distracted at his new nickname being used, until, for some reason, her taking care of him starts bothering him. It takes a moment (a moment in which Satine manages to completely bare his top half and inject some kind of pain medication into him), but it comes to him eventually. He grabs the wrists of the hands that are starting to spread some sort of gel on his arms and looks down at her legs, trying to find the injury he knows is there. "You're hurt. I drop...dropped you."
"Shut up!" is her reply to that. "I don't care!" Her voice sounds a bit strange, and he finally looks up to focus her face. She...she's crying. Stars above, she is crying from pain and trying to help him anyways.
With a distressed noise, he tries to reach the medical supplies, ignoring his body's protest. As he searches, he croons, "No, no, I've got you, it's fine, you'll be fine—" To his confusion, that only makes her cry harder. Her intense emotions, mixed with his own exhaustion and pain, start to affect him as well, and he tries (and fails) to blink away the tears forming in his eyes as he digs around the bag to find a bandage and some pain medication. "Satine, I'm sorry, so sorry, Tina, forgive me, I'm—you'll—"
It is during this blathering that Satine throws her arms around him.
Obi-Wan goes still very quickly. After a moment of her crying against his chest, he cautiously brings up his arms to encircle her. That's what one did with hugs, right? Return them? He wishes he was thinking clearer. He wishes he would stop crying. He wishes Satine would stop crying. He also wishes that the tiny bites all over his body wouldn't hurt so badly where Satine is touching him. But Satine is trembling, and obviously is in need of comfort of some kind, so he just holds her close and hopes he is doing the right thing.
"Idiot," she mumbles against his shoulder. "You're an idiot."
Obi-Wan does not dispute this. He is feeling pretty idiotic at the moment.
She lets his idiotic self hug her anyways, and he sits and tries to think. Eventually, one thought rings out about all the others: he had tried to rescue her and she'd gotten hurt anyways. There was a lesson in there somewhere. Something about acceptance and attachment, about the inevitability of existence. Something about not being able to save everyone.
—
Last laugh:
The drapes on the windows are pulled shut in Satine's Coruscant apartment. Even though they aren't necessarily doing anything wrong or terribly interesting, the gossip columns won't think so, so they are careful with these meetings.
They sit on the floor, an approximation of their many meals outdoors in years past. That is, if the plush carpet and cushions could be mistaken for uneven dirt and stone, or the ornate artwork a dark forest of leaves and creatures, or their expertly-prepared cuisine a crude mishmash of available ingredients.
Satine hums into her champagne flute. "Well, Anakin Skywalker...he's certainly something else."
Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. "Tina, you don't even know the half of it." He bites into a cracker, then almost immediately starts laughing, covering his mouth. He swallows and says with a raised eyebrow, "You, ah, may have noticed a secret relationship with a certain senator?"
A very un-duchess-y snort is the reply. "A secret relationship? They're trying to keep it a secret?" She shakes her head and adds a few pieces of fruit and cheese to her plate.
"'Trying' is the operative word here," he says, then gestures out with his flute. "Anakin is about as subtle as...as...well, something very, very unsubtle." Obi-Wan drains his champagne and settles further into the cushions behind him.
Satine laughs, tossing a piece of fruit at him. (He catches it, of course. Insufferable man.) "Where has your eloquence gone, O Great Negotiator?"
"Oh, shut up," he says with a grin, and pops the fruit into his mouth.
Last fight:
"These measures are unnecessary. Mandalore is a place of peace. We are not a part of this war, and we will not act as if we are."
"Even a neutral party in war is a part of the war."
"Not this again, Ben. I will keep my people safe."
"And I will keep the galaxy safe. I must."
"...I know. I understand where you're coming from. I just...wish this war was over. I wish it had never happened."
"Don't dwell on the might-have-beens, my dear. We're both trying to end this war, and I do understand your position. You're a wonderful leader and Mandalore is lucky to have someone as dedicated to their safety and future as you. I'm sorry that this has all turned out so…well."
"Me too. And though I don't agree at all with what you're doing, I know you're trying to find peace without fighting. You've done the best you can with the situation you've been given."
"As have you, Tina."
"...What a pair we are."
"Indeed."
Last cry:
Sundari is quiet at night, especially at the palace. Satine stands near a holo terminal, staring out the window at the city, waiting for the call to connect.
"Duchess?" a familiar voice calls. She turns with a smile to see a life-size hologram of Obi-Wan standing before her.
"Ben," she says, and she watches that careful formality melt away. If she can call him Ben, they are alone. Diplomatic shields are hardly necessary.
He sits down on what she assumes is his bed and she crosses to a nearby sofa to do the same. "How are you doing?" he asks softly.
She looks away. "Children, Ben. They were children. They might have died."
"But they didn't. You found out what was wrong. You stopped it. They're safe."
She scoffs. "Safe. Yes, safe, until the next black market is set up, or the next official compromises their standards, or the next terrorist attack in a public park, or—"
"Tina."
She stops and pulls in a ragged breath. She's trying so hard to keep it together. They really were lucky. No children had died. They'd been uncomfortable for a while, yes, but every one of them had gone home. There had been other problems, though. So many problems. "We trusted people to bring us food, and they bring us poison. We trusted someone with the safekeeping of our children, and he risked their lives for his own profit. We...I trusted Almec to do his job, to find a peaceful, legal solution for our problems. And..."
"Corruption at any level can bring down a city, be it industry, education, or government."
"How depressing the truths of life are."
They stay silent for a moment, long enough for Satine gather the frazzled parts of herself. After a deep breath, she looks back at the only person she knows she can trust completely, as different as they are. He looks tired, so tired, and her broken heart shatters a little more. "And you? How are you?"
He's quiet for a moment, perfectly still, and then leans forward—almost collapses, really—and covers his face with his hands. She sees his shoulders start to shake. "Children, Tina," comes the quiet, muffled response.
She closes her eyes. She has been spared the front lines of this war, the aftermath, but her Ben has not. And she can't even hold his hand, or stroke his hair, or cradle that too-big heart close to hers.
All she can do is share his tears.
Last words:
"Satine!" He reaches for her. Too late, too late.
She finds the strength to smile, even as her strength fades away. "I've loved you always. I always will."
Last touch:
The hand that trembles against his cheek falls away. Still, he doesn't let go. He can't. He can't look away from her face, from her eyes, though they are closed now. That fire that drove her to change worlds has been put out. And with the death of that fire, that light, he feels something within him die as well.
He lifts her hand—elegant as ever, but lifeless and limp—and presses his lips ever-so-gently against it.
Last thoughts:
This isn't your fault, Ben. Don't let this destroy you.
My duchess, my Tina, my love. Forgive me. I've failed you.
