Satine misses her nephew. A piece of her family history is disclosed to Ben. A decision is made.

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Not for the first time since Satine had relocated with him, Ben found, upon stepping inside his hut, that the interior was absolutely unrecognizable. Flower garlands were everywhere, as were freshly picked vegetable garden products. On the ground, a rock he could hardly believe she had mustered the strength to drag inside acted as a sort of altar for the candles, while his green tablecloth accounted for a slightly transparent, if sensual dividing curtain. The perfume was so pervasive it was hypnotizing to the senses, and once in there, Ben really had the impression of finding himself in a desert oasis. The woman sure had talent.

Shaking his head, Ben couldn't help giggling a bit. Satine's zeal appeared foolish to him, though he had to admit the hut looked welcoming, even magical, with all those flowers, radically different from the hellish pit where he'd survived alone, prior to her arrival.

Picking up a couple of pikas and desert plums, Ben headed to the kitchen to make them lunch. Shortly afterwards, the two of them were eating puk-leaf and pureed pika spelt flatbread sandwiches, seated on the wicker bedroll, which Ben had courteously left in place (although, its presence in the hut was, by then, more symbolic than anything, since they shared the same bed now).

"I don't quite know how to fully express this in words, but, today I really wish I were on Mandalore" Satine disclosed after they finished their meal, standing up to lean her palms on the windowsill, flower garlands swinging at her passage.

"I never realized you were so into Mandalorian folk festivities" Ben pointed out, slightly ironically.

"It's not only that" she sighed, looking out the window, dead serious. Ben raised his gaze, suddenly noticing that a veil of sadness was clouding her face.

"Today it's Korkie's birthday" her voice came out as a grief-ridden whisper. She smiled sadly, then added: "It's not about the birthday per se, it's just that... I wish I could be there for him"

The intensity of her pain, which he now fully perceived, made Ben cringe. He could relate to that, oh if he could.

Battling against an unexplainable urge to retreat in his dungeon and drown in his own sorrow and guilt the entire day, he walked closer to her instead, observing her intently. Satine had often mentioned her nephew, in the same way he had often talked about Anakin, or almost. Although clearly involved with the boy's upbringing, Ben now realized that he knew very little about the specifics of his background, for Satine had always been vague about them, and he had never pushed her to disclose more than she was willing to share.

"He has no-one?" he asked delicately.

"Yes, and no" answered Satine.

"Your...sister?"

"Bo-Katan? She, well, cares about him, of course. In her own way" Satine briskly replied.

At Ben's pensive silence, she continued: "The familial ties she shares with him somewhat safeguard Korkie, they make him more of an asset and less of a soldier in her eyes. Still, Bo-Katan's set of values is quite incompatible with what Korkie was raised with. That, and the fact that she was never there for him growing up".

Satine crossed her arms, her back stiff.

Ben swallowed. On the one hand, he wanted to inquire further, a question prickling the tip of his tongue. On the other, he dared not to.

"He has my brother"

Satine put an end to his conjecturing. And Ben, for some strange reason, could breathe a sigh of relief.

"I never knew you had a brother"

"Gal Kryze, short for Galaar, "hawk" in Mando'a. Never was a name less fitting to its owner" Satine stated solemnly.

"Why is that so?" Ben asked, intrigued.

"My brother is no hunter. He never was. Probably never will. You don't know about him because during the Clan Wars and immediately thereafter, when you met me, my Clan hid his existence from official records, to protect him. You see, Galaar is defenseless. He is quadriplegic since birth, he can't move nor feel anything from the neck down. My family tried everything, every cure, summoned every healer, even traveled to Kamino with him in search of a genetic fix when he was a baby, to no avail. Nothing ever worked, so Gal will never spread his wings, although he soars higher than most people I know in the skies of intellect and imagination. Unfortunately, there is little room for people like him on Mandalore, with the current state of affairs. Unable to partake in physical demonstrations of strength, Gal never stood a leadership chance, although smarter and most prepared than many Clan chieftains. And, when the civil war exploded, he became too easy of a target not to be sent into hiding. Now, Gal lives on Kalevala, writing books about political theory and holding debate-oriented soirées. He manages the Mandalorian Fund for Art and Environment and he was able to fulfill his fatherhood dream with Korkie, whom he loves dearly. That makes me so really happy for him" Satine finished, still tense.

Neither the slight quivering in her voice, nor the undertone of regret in her words were lost on Ben, who wondered if the concern for her nephew and the reminiscence of her brother's struggles alone were enough to justify the full extent of her languishing behavior.

"However" she continued "Gal's physical limitations impede him to be near Korkie at a time when he needs guidance the most. He is capable for his age, tenacious, enthusiast...but there are still so many things he doesn't know about life, and Mandalore is a dangerous place to be in at this moment, especially for a Kryze. I really want to have faith in his better judgment and survival skills, but...Ben, he is still a teenager"

For a short moment, when her eyes met with his, a ray of uncensored light transpired from her gaze, before she returned to her uptight, self-sufficient shell. Her message to him had been willingly revealing, reluctant but well-addressed, shedding light on the truth for a fleetingly powerful instant.

Although allowed access to this truth, Ben didn't exactly know what it meant, nor was it within his power to find out right away. However, what he knew was that Satine, as much as she generally diverted the attention from the ghosts of her past just like he did, required - no, needed - to find peace. Right now, finding peace meant knowing her nephew was alright. And, to gain that certainty, she would most likely have to leave Tatooine.

The idea of losing her again was as light as a large boulder on Ben's chest. He knew what her departure would mean. He knew that if she left, he would likely not see her for a long, long time, if ever again. Their life dynamics were precarious under Imperial rule, and she would have no way to contact him, for he was expected to maintain his state of complete isolation. Ben was indignant, disappointed with himself. His fellow Jedi would be disappointed. Was he beginning to toy with the assumption that she would stick around? How very weak of his. Frustrated, he looked at the flower garlands. Life. She'd brought life into his hut, but she hadn't limited herself to that. She had brought him back to life. As painful as his lonesome exile had been, it was nothing compared to the prospect of losing Satine, which, in turn, was nothing compared to seeing her suffer.

No. He wouldn't. He wouldn't be the one to hold her back.

Ben had made up his mind. Before the words blocked in his throat, he spoke:

"Satine, before we...before the storm you expressed the desire to check on your spaceship in the Jundland Wastes. Would you like to go tomorrow?" he proposed, his voice sincerely caring.

She looked at him, touched. Initially, she didn't say anything, then closed the distance between them, hugging him gratefully.

His understanding was priceless to her, and as he returned her hug, he made peace with a part of him, acknowledging something that had always existed, unexpressed, unvoiced, but not for these reasons unreal: his love for her.

One hour before dawn, the next day...

Ben's sharp Jedi hearing detected a chorus of grunts and growls in the distance, abruptly waking him up. For a few seconds, Ben remained still, sitting up in bed, attempting to interpret what his senses were telling him, anxiety threatening to erupt in his system. His sleep-obfuscated mind tapped on his past experiences and worst nightmares, offering a lugubrious array of possible explanations for those Force-unbalancing noises. Sand People, ready to raid the hut? Jabba the Hutt's guards, eager to hand him in to awaiting stormtroopers? Or even Maul, set on finishing the job he had never completed on Mandalore?

His breathing now heavy, lucidity rushing back at him, Ben realized those grunts simply belonged to a family of Womp Rats, a species which favored the dark hours to go hunting.

Feeling like a failure from a Jedi viewpoint, Ben sighed deeply, lying back on the mattress, noticing Satine's sleeping form next to him. At least she looked peaceful now, he told himself. The previous evening had been so hard on her, evoking painful memories, as it had on him, who had felt rather helpless trying to dampen those for her, and for himself.

Soon, Ben realized attempting to fall asleep again would be useless. He stood up, as quiet as a cat, and went to brew himself tea, the flower garlands swinging lazily at his passage. Then, exiting the kitchen, he double-checked the backpacks they had gotten ready for their desert crossing in a few hours. Darkness still thick, he relied on the Force in order to do so, not wanting to wake Satine up by lightening candles. However, he realized his worries were unfounded, for the Duchess had already awakened.

"Obi-Wan, what's wrong?" she called out to him, leaning on her side. He sat back on the mattress, touching her arm reassuringly.

"Nothing. Just a family of Womp Rats"

"Womp Rats..."

"Yes. Restless, pretentious creatures"

"Really? I though someone else fit that description perfectly"

He chuckled.

"So, Duchess, do you still want to embark on the desert trek today?"

"I do...although, I will need to change into something else, first" she hinted.

"So...this changing implies you will need to get undressed first, am I correct?"

Ben's ears barely registered the words his mouth had spoken.

"Very insightful, Master Kenobi"

With a crooked smile, he crawled closer to her, on all fours.

"Let me relieve you of this strenuous task" he said, starting to roll her nightgown up, holding his breath as inches of skin were revealed. When he was done, her body firm and slick under his, she decided it was her turn to unclothe him.

"Strenuous task? You had it easy, while I am stuck to unwrap these chaste, proper garments of yours. Chivalry, you call it" she provoked him.

"A gentleman cannot help this injustice if Your Highness privileges clothes that would be appropriate for a sylph"

Satine unbuckled his belt and undid his obi, letting them slip to the ground.

"Chastity belt's out...so very modest, Obi-Wan"

He kissed her hungrily, his fingers digging in the flesh of her hips, proceeding to explore her body, sensing she was really excited, already.

"So very chaste..."

"Like second nature..."

Their making out session got more and more intense, just as the first lights of the day began filtering through the window. The incredible flowery scent and suggestive romantic ambience of the previous day still permeated the hut, making their encounter all the more enticing.

"You taste like tea" Satine whispered, flushed and ruffled.

"Do you mind it?"

"I mind it the same way a nymph minds aphrodisiac poison on a lover's lips"

Ben moaned as a response, his hands crawling everywhere.

Now that no piece of sheet nor clothing separated their two bodies anymore, Satine sat on his lap, facing him, reveling in his heat, conveying all her intentions.

As they consummated their love, one last gem in that little corner of Eden before a back-breaking desert journey, Ben wondered if Satine's permanence on Tatooine, with him, could be compared to the way she had decorated his hut. Absolutely transient, but eternally bright in a sanctuary of continually shifting, yet ever-unchanging, infertile dunes. Only time would tell if the comparison would turn out to be exact, however, Ben decided to take that moment for what it was: something beautiful, not to be denied, nor fought against. After all, the truth is often what we make of it, and Ben decided - not fully consciously - that there was no reason why Satine couldn't be part of the larger picture that defined his truth. Not when life had proved capable of destroying (or rebuilding) everything, regardless of external factors any mortal being had the illusion of controlling.