The Return of Ben Kenobi- Chapter Three

When Satine entered her private wing she caught him observing the paintings on the wall. He hadn't completely settled down all evening: the room was so immaculate and beautifully untouched. So instead he passed time meditating on the royal rug and leaning over her balcony (since he didn't think it was gentlemanly-like to snoop) until he finally gave into the temptation to examine the room in more detail. It was the paintings that intrigued him the most. The creators had a precious talent to capture the Duchess' elegance so accurately. Above the chair for the head of the dining table was a masterpiece, the grandest picture inside her quarters, of Satine's parents. At least that's what he presumed by her descriptions long ago. At first in his opinion she resembled her mother the most but as he continued to stare at it, he could could see that she was a hybrid of both. Her sharp jawline and cheekbones from her mother's side and the blue palette of her iris from her father. The painting, he thought, was just as valuable as the detailed pure gold frame it rested in. Other pieces included; the Duchess at her coronation; plenty of Korkie and a curious one of two younglings, one blonde, one urban. I wonder- that's when Satine entered.

"Should I be offended that I'm not on the wall?" Obi-wan teased in a clear sarcastic tone as he turned to her. Satine's shoulders were slumped and she was locked in a lost gaze. She gave a weak smile while she carefully removed her headdress and hair piece like they were made of crystalline glass. Worried that he had hit a nerve, Obi-wan began to careen around the deep mahogany table to the archway entrance. "Satine?" he tried again.

"I'm okay." she lifelessly replied. Her steady gaze to the ground contradicted herself. As Obi-wan approached Satine he grasped apace each of her upper arms with both his hands. It was not an aggressive manoeuvre, it was firm yet loving, one he had to use with Satine quite a lot; trapping himself in her sight so eventually she would have to give eye contact. True enough it shattered her trance however she still refused to let herself look at him. Obi-wan knew eye-to-eye she would not lie to him. Satine darted her sight to each corner of the room before giving into the temptation of his handsome face. She let out a sigh realising he had won once again.

"Fine, there's no need to man-handle me!" she brushed his hands away but immediately she missed his warmth. "I just didn't feel like I was needed is all." His countenance remained to be concerned. "It's not a big deal, let us speak nothing more of it." she added before wandering away to prepare the table. Obi-wan didn't objectify to that, he felt it was an order so he refused to ask. Neither did he bring it up during dinner; in fact they were both silently content in each other's company. Obi-wan certainly thought that her mood picked up as they dined, that is, until towards the end of the meal when their plates appeared sparse.

All of a sudden a hum echoed in Kenobi's ears and swirled around his head. After ignoring it at first, believing he was imagining it, he noticed that it wasn't just a hum; there were layers of different pitches and vibrations. It was the sound of a song. Coming from outside. Floating on the breeze through the balcony and over their heads. It wasn't long before the Duchess heard it too. Abruptly she stood up, causing her chair to make an awful screeching sound as it was forced backwards, and followed like she was brainwashed the direction of the music. Obi-wan was astonished by this sudden behaviour but just continued to sit, curious to whether she thought it was from outside too. She glided out of his sight so instinctively he went to follow her. Inevitably, Satine had stopped on the balcony staring mesmerised across the city, eyes fixed like a moth to a flame. She had a forlorn countenance which was only supported by her arm, with her elbow fixed onto the handle of the balcony and her fragile fingers wrapped round her chin. She was in despair. Desperately he searched for what had depressed her. But Obi-wan was also mesmerised by the city: a glowing procession of lights lined the streets like fireflies. The music was so much clearer now. It sounded like a band playing merry tunes held together by Mandalo'a lyrics. He could not translate them but he thought it sounded magnificent all the same.

"There's a festival on tonight. One of the biggest we gather for. It's the celebration of a victory in a Mandalorian War long ago, I won't bore you with the details of it. However because of it's violent nature and my conflicting ideals I am not to attend in case of controversy. The council have tried to convince me my people do not want me there. Now, I'd say the closed view I'm allowed is here on the balcony." She looked to him. "The meeting: was discussing final points about the festival. Of course it does not concern me but they still unnecessarily need my permission." Satine explained.

Obi-wan considered the situation. Her sadness was reflected in her voice as she elucidated the behaviour. For a moment he was lost for words, discussing war was a tender topic for them both.

"That seems awfully unfair." is what he decided to go with.

"It's understandable...I suppose. It just makes me wonder what happens, I mean, the best view of the fireworks is from my balcony but what is the atmosphere like down there? Are the people happy? I long to see them smile again..." she replied before a silence of busy thoughts. The looming shadow of the Death Watch had definitely tested Mandalore's tranquillity. Kenobi consumed the silence for a while, respecting her sadness.

Then, all of a sudden, an idea blossomed within him. He was certain he had nothing to drink with dinner, but it was the most irresistible (or rather irresponsible) idea. Maybe he was under the influence of Satine; or maybe he had been around Anakin for too long and had caught some of his qualities by osmosis, but he thought it was a very uncharacteristic plan.

He stood brooding for a while before clarifying: "Do you want to go to the festival?"

"That's irrelevant. It's forbidden." she muttered a trifle sharply.

"Well," he began through his mischievous smile as he shrugged off his Jedi cloak. "the Duchess of Mandalore may not be able to go, but what about just Satine?" In one masterful motion he flung his cloak over her shoulders and it settled on her like snow. It was way too oversized for her so the hood draped over her eyes blocking her sight. Nevertheless it made his heart skip. As she cautiously lifted the brim of the hood he fully expected an impending eye roll or protest, however to his surprise she appeared to be contemplating his proposal.

"A disguise?" she questioned raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, well, you probably have more elegant cloaks you could use. More...less embarrassing ones." he spluttered, trying to persuade her best he could but her poker face was quite intimidating. She cocked her head to the left slightly and looked curiously at him. Suddenly she mirrored Obi-wan to remove the cloak and placed in delicately over his shoulders but instead leaving her hands gripped around him.

"If I go as just Satine, then you will go as just Ben."

Ben. The sound was a disguise from long ago. He hadn't heard her use that name in years. It was like a stranger. Ben wasn't a man who was a slave to the Jedi rules, Obi-wan knew him to be an open man who once publicly loved Satine. Ben was practically burden free, he had no responsibilities besides her. Without the titles of Jedi and Duchess they could be rid of guilt for attending the festival.

"Okay then, just for you my dear. For one night only I will be Ben once again." he exclaimed proudly, although perhaps unaware of what he was getting himself into. It made Satine happy though and that's all that mattered in the moment.