*A/N: Hello boys, girls and everyone in between. I personally feel a great drive in the attraction of Obi-wan and Satine in TCW to be their verbally combative nature, despite blatant respect and affection. Honestly, getting the chance to write dialogue between these two was the number one motivation that kept me glued to this story. Though not much is referenced in the show about her relationship with Qui-Gon, I'd like to think the two would share an immediate respect for one another, both for their blunt natures, but also their mutual regard for justice. I hope you are enjoying thus far. Please R&R I would LOVE feedback. Thanks so much. -Nikki
For the first few weeks, Satine didn't find the transition of her additional 'guards' to be quite as seamless as she had hoped. The two did their best to meld into the rest of her security detail; despite the unique air in which they held themselves, it was a well-managed transition. Her true problem lay in the evaluating gaze of the padawan. She understood the need to stay close, but something on the other side of his eyes revealed some suspicion or perhaps judgment of her.
There was nothing for the Duchess to hide, so if she trusted that Jedi were as perceptive as rumored, it wasn't the former, but the latter. It seemed quite likely that he judged her; after all, there was an undeniable level of self-righteousness displayed by their mystic kind, at least as they had been described to her. This was her first personal encounter, so she tried to simmer down the innate prejudices that had come with her Mandalorian ancestry.
Still, she could not doubt her eyes, nor her instincts. She wondered if his deduction of her character was something less than complimentary. It was undoubtedly possible given their initial meeting and busy schedule, yet she felt no desire to apologize. Finally, after millennium of war, peace was within Mandalore's reach and every day she could hear criticism, some disparagement of the true expanse of her resolve. Now the Republic had introduced the most controversial solution in the form of such an infamous enemy to the Mandalorian people to protect their leader. It was an insult to the pride and sensibility of her kind. Their mere presence endangered the platform upon where she presented the New Mandalorian mission, making her fear that now it was a pyre on which she stood, and they were the striking match, the last excuse needed to validate those who would see this new way burn, just as their world had.
Satine could not stomach it; she would stand taller if necessary, seem the unyielding anchor of strength, whatever it took to save their successors from such descent as their history had known. Reminded of her purpose, the burning gaze simply spurred her on to be as immovable and formidable as the leaders of old; only she would exchange their quest for war with a legacy of peace.
The Duchess Satine looked over the handful of familiar faces at the luncheon, all noteworthy supporters of the New Mandalorian regime, yet she wondered if their intentions were as noble as she hoped.
"My fellow Mandalorians, I'm proud to stand here and extol the progress of immersion into New Mandalorian principles."
Obi-wan could clearly see several self-satisfied smirks around the dining table. It reminded him a bit of some more intimate political gatherings he had witnessed on Coruscant. It seemed the most natural thing, to see diplomats roister, applauding themselves for what could only be described as a multi-tiered success, even with all the push-back they'd had for their pacifistic goals. His stomach clenched at the notion of sitting through such a self-centered celebration.
"Yet despite our victory," Her voice continued sternly. "This is not a meeting of triumph. There is still much to be done. We have reclaimed merely a piece of Mandalore and though Sundari thrives, we all know of those who would rather romanticize the self-sabotaging ways of our history, than revel in such stability as this promising future. We must be vigilant and question our sympathies." She successfully disguised her sigh as a soft exhale, a chagrined rosiness filling her cheeks that remained hidden from all but the eyes and ears that were most keenly attuned to her; she continued even stronger now. "Abandon tradition, for we cannot prosper under the blind praxis of arrogance and ignorance. It is paramount that we prove our evolution through intellect; the exchanging of ideals, not the shameful in-fighting that has become synonymous with our race galaxy-wide."
Satine inhaled and tried to proactively shake away the adrenaline that she could feel swimming through her blood at the necessity for the blatant acknowledgement building behind her tongue. She briefly wondered if the padawan could feel her heart racing. "Advisor Shreen, have you not seen the vandalism on the full list of Mandalorian casualties carved at the base of the Memorial Shrine in Sundari's Peace Park?"
Obi-wan's eyes quickly darted to the anxiety he felt flowing through the Force from one of the other Mandalorian's before them. He was a tall, young adult male, easily a few years her senior with short dark hair and hubristic eyes. "I beg your pardon, Duchess?"
"In the section of traditionalists lost to the war, it has been tampered with; names of House Rook, defaced. Have you seen it?" She watched the man, having seen evidence of his guilt in holographic proof, confirming her long-standing wariness of the condescension he had demonstrated on several occasions.
Obi tensed feeling the man's tension pulse loudly through the Force, though he wore a still façade to hide his stench of misconduct. Another pulse pounded even louder and the padawan realized it belonged to the Duchess. She knew of this man's undeniable guilt and simply acknowledging it bothered her, but nothing in her steady voice or eyes wavered. She shook her head. "I've sent a team to rectify this ugly, no doubt, accidental destruction." The pointed tone made it seem as though she still intended to hold the culprit culpable for damages. She openly addressed the entirety of the room. "This Civil War truly brought us to our knees, did it not?"
Many people nodded solemnly and even Advisor Shreen seemed moved by the reminder. She released a soft, ironic huff of a laugh. "Is that not the most contradictory of terms? A Civil War? What about war could be gallant, honorable? What is civil about violence between kin? Even in victory, only Mandalorian lives were destroyed; so how can we mock our own loss? Our principles have given us the chance to uphold peace, not superiority." She cleared her throat and Obi could see the way she commanded the crowd, even his master seemed to nod, an animated approval lifting his quirked brow. "This innate yearning to conquer has brought our kind to an absolute low; it is the trial that runs through our blood, but we are the masters of our fate. Do we seek to lose our conscience to quench that insatiable thirst for supremacy or do we hope to find the strength to watch through another's eyes, to unite as New Mandalorians?" Her eyes briefly darted to Chief of Staff Dinul with an unspoken familiarity. "Too much has been lost, we cannot afford our compassion to become the final casualty in this Mandalorian Savage War. Being the victors will never give us the right to re-write history; regardless of shallow, alliance-based bias, our loss was indiscriminate.
"Mandalorians are not the mindless, impulsive stereotypes of our past faults. This is our time for enlightenment." Her sharp sapphire eyes punctuated her ferocious sincerity and she felt as if a tether extracted the steely resolve of her proud voice as it filled the sizable dining room. She could see the commitment of her cadence crash upon the few dozen faces that watched her intently, but only felt one pair of eyes searing through the nape of her neck, seemingly amplified by the Force.
Obi-wan wandered through the palace that night, mystified by the realization that even his nightly meditation could not center his thoughts. He supposed some sliver of him was waiting for the next attempt on their charge. From what he had seen, there could be a dozen suspects per function. The Duchess did not mince words; just short of blatant accusation, she reminded her company of the promises they had all made to the cause.
In his close inspection of the leader of Mandalore, the Duchess too was inflicted with that ravenous mindset, only hers called for justice, yet he questioned whether someone who loathed violence so absolutely would ever be able to defend her loyalty should the moment come?
He shook his head, attempting to clear his still lingering focus from that afternoon. The palace was impressive, but not grandiose, flirting along the edge of being overstated, but not enough to stumble quite into obnoxious. Obi couldn't feel a threat within the halls and he questioned if the enemy could truly be so close to the monarch when nothing had been attempted since her near-kidnapping three weeks prior, though not for lack of provocation, he'd wager.
Suddenly a pulse seemed to skip throughout the dark corridor before him and Obi-wan couldn't help but liken the low-thrumming hum to an intentional tip-toe pace, caution in each breath. The added layer of the dome above the city truly shrouded the environment in darkness, still his trained eyes recognized the strands of luminescent gold silk first before her face came into view, a surprised gasp confirming the identity of the Duchess.
"Padawan Kenobi!" Her strained whisper betrayed some level of anxiety. "What are you doing around at this hour?"
Obi stood taller, though he doubted the movement could be distinguishable in the darkness. "Patrolling, Duchess." His answer was true, even if his severity seemed to imply duty, it had been self-imposed to combat insomnia.
"Do you believe the safety of this palace compromised? Have you encountered some alarming threat?" There was a sarcastic humor in her voice that resembled a teasing tone.
"No, nothing beyond the growing list of suspects." He said, in an uncharacteristically taunting reply, almost emboldened to be blunt in the sheltering blackness between them.
"Ah," She nodded in the dark, thankful to finally have the answer to her self-imposed inquiry that had followed her throughout the day. Leading the way, she continued in the direction he had come. The padawan followed, noting the only room behind, from where she must've entered. If he wasn't mistaken, he believed it to be her office, but he didn't risk the opportunity to confirm, not when he could feel her withholding tone beckoning him with an irritating assuredness. "You thought me too harsh this afternoon."
"Not necessarily." He began, if only to shake her from the bountiful certainty she possessed. "I merely find your style of pacifism to be oddly confrontational." Obi was sure she scoffed in return. "Would it not have been better to confer with that man in private, if you're so concerned with refraining from the need to conquer?" He only asked to make himself ruminate on the possibility of whether or not she manipulated the situation to satisfy her own claim to power.
"I'd hate to be mistaken, Padawan Kenobi, so I think it best I assert the determination of this coming age. Superiority is different from enforcing accountability." She turned her head just barely to the side, acknowledging the shadow of the padawan as it lingered in her periphery, unknowingly escorting her back in the direction of the residential rooms, away from the vast corridors. The slight narrow of the hallways made their conversation fade in volume, growing in concision of both intonation and pronunciation. "I encourage growth, not perfection, but grievances will be acknowledged, and communication will lead us to flourish. I subject our public servants and citizens to the same standard; no name will be immune from such requirements."
Obi-wan hung on a melancholy note that threaded itself through her words. "Even my own name has been dragged through criticism in the public arena before." She shook her head. "Regardless of the extenuating circumstances of that moment, I knew that blame had to be placed and I could only benefit from the chance to humble myself and reiterate the depth of my intentions for my people."
"Do you not consider yourself to be similarly shrouded in contradiction; to proudly profess such allegiance to the old virtues of your race without the slightest sense of irony as you encourage abandoning tradition?"
The Duchess shook her head and stopped to look at Obi-wan, causing him to halt in his steps. "There are values that will always be held in the highest regard. Some found validation in their ability to be perceived as the strongest, but they never contemplated the quite inescapable possibility that there is more than one way to quantify strength. In the past, merely war illustrated such commitment, where is it said that willpower isn't equally effective?"
Obi-wan couldn't deny that he had no rebuttal, yet the relentless pride in her voice caused him to question the priorities of her political purpose. Her objective appeared agreeable, but he doubted the selflessness of such immodest presentation; it opposed the very teachings his upbringing had assured him. "I'm sure my opinion would be considered the most invalid, considering my status as an outsider."
She nodded. "I would argue your experience limits your perspective on the matter. But I'm sure even you could agree that at the very least, this new regime is presenting us with more than one possible way of operating. Without fail, Mandalorians have succumbed to the siren song of our inherent savagery; what harm can come from a different approach?" It was undeniable, the certainty in her voice. She took a few more purposeful steps and Obi-wan was suddenly aware of the door to his room within reach. "I'd wager any further patrolling unnecessary; wouldn't you agree?"
The padawan tried not to be bothered, noticing the effortless way she led him along for a ride, propelled by her indescribable esteem and unwavering resolve. "Well, seeing as we haven't encountered anyone for you to provoke on this brief stroll, I daresay this corridor is safe from insurgents."
She laughed. "You wound me, Padawan Kenobi. After all the effort I exhausted to vex you, you refuse to legitimize my claim of enticing opposition by providing your own name to the growing list of suspects?"
He borrowed a reaction he had noticed from her countless times and scoffed. A brief satisfaction filled him to just barely make out the challenging lift of her brow as she recognized how he mocked her common mannerism. "Unfortunately, I have an alibi that safeguards me from suspicion."
"For past offenses, no doubt." She smirked and his eyes honed-in on the slight contortion of her typically stoic features, though he couldn't see it reach her eyes in the dark. "At least I can rely on your astute, if not opposing nature to calculate any possible threats that might reveal themselves in the near future."
"This isn't my first mission. Although," The padawan inhaled, his voice hanging off abruptly.
"Yes?" She couldn't silence her curiosity.
"Being astute, I can't help but theorize you might hope to fulfill your own requirements." He challenged.
"How do you mean?" She fell prey to the instigation in his voice.
"If I'm expected to go along with the charade of this objectionably uncomfortable clothing and hide my true identity, perhaps you could rise to the standards of your own conditions and refrain from addressing me as Padawan?" Obi-wan decided to now reflect the somewhat smug tone she had modeled earlier.
A soft bark erupted from her and it bore the slightest distinction to label it as a laugh, instead of a scoff. "Point well-taken. Goodnight, Kenobi." She bobbed her head and left him beside his door, in pursuit of her own quarters.
"Goodnight, Duchess Kryze." He acknowledged gently, wondering if it was his duty to see that she made it back to her room. If so, he gladly failed in such regard as his feet refused to move.
He watched her round the corner of the long hallway and turned his head back in the direction they had come. Obi-wan realized he had never questioned what she had been doing up or why she seemed to be coming from her office. He wasn't sure if such an excursion could be considered entirely harmless, now with the need for heightened security. Though some of his initial judgment had faded, suspicion still appeared prudent.