(A/N) Hey everyone, here's the conclusion! M rated outtake posted later this week! Please R and R, let me know what you think!
Also, I've set a challenge for myself, any Obitine request, unless severely AU or something I find personally disturbing, I will write and post a one-shot for! I want to keep my writing rolling and would love any ideas or suggestions or requests you have! I will post and tag you in all of them! DM them to me!
He twisted his fingers with hers, not wanting to relinquish his touch on her as it was their last day together for what could forever. He was due back at the Council tomorrow, his premise of the diplomatic mission of returning the Duchess safely seeming very unimportant. He had risen well before dawn, as was his normal habit when at the temple or on the battlefield, something he had been forgoing in his nights spent with the Duchess' company.
She had been sleeping beside him, in fact, he was positive that of all the people in the palace, perhaps four besides himself would have been awake at that hour. And they were being paid to keep watch. He had moved her gently off of his body, where her arm was lying on his chest, and her head was resting gently on his shoulder. Her skin was warm on his bare chest, she had taken to sleeping in his tunics each night, leaving him uncovered from the waist up. He had come to enjoy it, not feeling exposed, but being able to stay so close connected to her, even after the time for intimacy had passed.
He had moved from the bed that morning, though; compelled by some force he couldn't name and begun his morning routine. He had showered and dressed, taking a few extra moments to fix himself so that he might look presentable. In the days he had spent here, they had abandoned most pretense of his staying in the guest quarters, and all of his clothing and items had been moved to her room. It made it easier to get ready each day, but more difficult to look into the eyes of the elderly guard that brought them a tray of pastries each morning after Satine's morning shower. But the man was kind, and always some kind of quiet comment about young love, and his wife who had passed away the year before. He was oblivious to Obi-Wan being a Jedi, and they had managed to avoid the other guards as he left her quarters each day. For both facts, he was very grateful.
Now, they were sitting on a bench overlooking the business district of her great city. She was close to him, not pressed against him but touching by their fingers. He watched a small family move through one area, a young girl stopping to examine an array of brightly colored fruits and nuts on a cart. Her brother found more interest in the racks of meat, even as the parents had bypassed both to buy loaves of bread from a small market stand. It was a tranquil scene for Obi-Wan to watch, one that he was not used to after seeing so many war torn worlds, where food was a scarce commodity and to have a market set you up as a target for bombings.
"Is there something I can interest you in, Duchess?" He rubbed a small circle over the back of her hand with his thumb, gesturing with the other to the dozens of carts that were peddling trinkets and small pieces of art. Her eyes, he noticed, had been watching the same family that he had been, the boy and girl now chasing each other past a man rolling a cart of vegetables, yelling about his low prices. Her expression startled him it was one of acute loss, perhaps even pain. He looked away from her, unable to look into her eyes when he knew the reason behind her feelings.
If he had stayed, if she had made that request of him so many years ago, then they would probably have a child. Or more than one child. The thought, that could have been such a happy one to man who had never had an actual family, only hurt him. But he could not change the past, and he knew that in all reality, she was aware of that as well. And he could not stay with her here, despite all that the last two weeks had done to convince him.
"Let's go the water." Unlike her usual behavior, when she waited on him to take her hand, she pulled him from the bench, her old bemused expression returning to her features. He walked at her side, their arms interloped, where the warm light of the Mandalorian sunshine could shine equally on both of them.
"I can't say I've been down to the seaside, Satine." He had abandoned her title days ago, unless he was teasing her. He had perhaps meant to now, but the sea had almost taken his breath away. The water wasn't blue, it was perfectly clear, the bottom of the sea floor shining up at him, his eyes flowing the darting of shallow-water fish, and catching the glint off of a dozen semi-precious stones that littered the bottom of the ocean. She tugged his arm down to sit next to her on the white sand.
"But you have, Obi-Wan." She didn't release his hand, they rested entwined together between them on the sand. Obi-Wan vaguely thought what Anakin would think of all this sand, before he fully registered what she had said. And realization hit him. It was not on this side of the ocean that they had last sat together, it was on the opposite, so many years ago. Qui-Gon had gone on a scouting mission, leaving them alone. It had been after he realized he loved her, after they had kissed, after they had consummated their mutual feelings. But it had been a conversation very similar to how this one felt.
She had asked him of the Jedi Code, what all it entailed. He couldn't lie to her, even if he had wanted to, she would have seen through anything he could have tried to sell her. It had been the moment that they both had realized that they could not be themselves and be together. Much like it was now, with his departure set for the morning and both of their lives existing in very separate spheres. He had let the world pass around them that night, most of that evening spent in silence, the light of their fire casting small lights on the fish and rocks that had stood in the water.
"I remember." He wasn't sure what she wanted him to say, but he only had the truth for her. He looked into her face, she didn't look like she was feeling the pain she had earlier, she looked content, actually. He followed her gaze, seeing only the water and the light reflecting off of it; and realized that it was indeed quite peaceful, but also indicative of her choice so long ago. She had chosen Mandalore, and let him return to the Jedi, as a result it was prosperous. But he remembered their conversation, her look only moments ago, and knew the sacrifice she had made; it mirrored his own.
"Let us return, Obi, and enjoy our last day before you're again needed in the war." She stood, and as quickly as they had come to the water's edge, it disappeared behind them. Before they left the beach however, she turned to him, and, meeting him halfway, kissed him softly, mirroring their motions from two decades before.
He woke before her again, now light except stars shining through her curtains. He didn't move from the bed, instead, he pulled her closer, inhaling her scent and reveling in the feel of her body sleeping softly against his. He could die in the war tomorrow, lose everything that he had worked for in his life as a Jedi, but that would not change these moments spent together. He simply laid there, brushing his fingers through her hair, letting the lights creep in a gently wake her.
"Thank you, Satine." She had not heard him, nor could he bring himself to repeat the words to her. This was the end of this part of their lives, the only part they had really been able to spend together. It would hurt to leave, he could already feel the ache settling into his chest, but it would also be worth everything. Her body, her heart, her mind, her soul, had been fully with his for the last few days. It was more than he could ever have asked for, and feeling her gently stir against him, it was more than ever thought he deserved.