So… I went with it, guys. This is now officially a Korkie Kenobi novel. XD
Satine
"Sleep well, little one."
The words that had floated off her lips with a kiss already seemed lost to another time. No sooner had she tiptoed away from the sleeping infant than he had come crashing into the tiny room.
"Obi-Wan, shh! The baby is—" Her hissed instructions died with a strangled gasp. "Korkie…" she breathed before making a dash for her nephew. "But, how—?"
"I don't know," Obi-Wan replied as he hustled Korkie over to the bed, where he laid him gently beside a dozing Luke. "I went in searching for a pilot and came out with another Kryze."
She appreciated his dry attempt at humor—really, she did—but Satine couldn't find the strength to smile.
Korkie…
And just like that, all the memories came flooding back. The force alone at which they stampeded into her mind was enough to make her legs woggle. That, and the combined shock of seeing her blood relation in such a lifeless state sent Satine crashing into the chair beside the bed.
"I would never betray you, Auntie."
"What—?" Satine forced herself to take a breath. Steady… Steady… "What's wrong with him?"
"I'm here to rescue you."
Beside her, Obi-Wan opened his flask and eased a few drops of water between Korkie's half-parted lips.
"Korkie!"
"He's very heavily drugged," her husband explained tersely, his jaw set in tight determination. "And if my guess is correct, the effects should wear off before he wakes up."
"When will that be, do you think?"
"Not for some time, I'm afraid." Without another word, Obi-Wan disappeared and Satine moved to sit on the bed next to her ailing nephew.
Oh, Korkie… Her fingers floated up to his forehead, gently sweeping away a damp lock of hair. That's when she noticed the beads of sweat; the stinging heat that radiated off his skin.
"We simply have to get him through the fever, first." Cool rag in hand, Obi-Wan reappeared beside her and began dabbing at Korkie's overheated brow.
"Fever? You never said anything about a fever!"
"I believe I just did." It was the makings of an argument, to be sure, but Satine knew just as well as Obi-Wan did that there was no time for such things. "Here," he said, handing her the now warm cloth, "keep his head cool. I'll go get more rags."
If there are any more, came the grim thought. Upon entering the room, Satine had made a complete inspection of it, finding very little by way of commodities. And you expected something more because…?
In truth, she hadn't expected anything. Still, a little luxury, even if it was just a few clean towels and a caf machine, would've been nice.
"You're all taking a terrible risk helping me."
I should have searched harder. And for a brief moment, as she softly scrubbed Korkie's brow, Satine wondered when the crinkled lines of concern she'd been making on her forehead ever since they'd set foot on Phindar would become permanent. I should have looked for you…
"Nothing we haven't done before. Right, Auntie?"
Harder? You barely searched at all. Or have you chosen to forget your failed efforts? The voice in her head was cynical and clipped, sounding more like Duchess Satine of Mandalore than Satine Kenobi.
Satine Kenobi… Sometimes, that name still surprised her. Kenobi. It was hers now as much as it was his—as much as it should've been his…
She exchanged cloths with Obi-Wan, glancing discretely between the man and the boy. Studying, comparing them in a close, personal way she'd never had a chance to before. Oh, how differently everything could have gone…
But no, she'd gone over that particular scenario a thousand times in her mind and it had always ended the same.
He would've left, she grimly reminded herself. He would have left everything for me. The Order, his Master, the only way of life he'd ever known. All of it.
She knew he would have, without a doubt. That's what had always scared her, kept her mouth shut when inside, her heart never stopped screaming.
But not that Korkie was here… Now she could tell him. Yes, perhaps now… Or maybe when he's in the clear. When the fever's gone…
Satine's heart skipped a beat as her husband's hand closed atop hers with a gentleness she'd often envied.
"That rag is too warm now, my love," he whispered. "Perhaps you should get some rest. I'll watch over him, no need to worry."
Despite his calming words, worry continued to eat away at her mind. Worry for Korkie; for Luke, who would grow up in a galaxy of turmoil and tyranny; for her marriage, because how would Obi-Wan react to her confession? Would it change everything or nothing? Would it strengthen their bond or break it?
Idle fingers traveled to the ring on her finger and she tugged at it, twisting it around in an attempt to calm her raging nerves.
"I'll stay with my nephew," she replied, and even now, after so many years of feeding the public the same lie, it still left a bitter taste on her tongue. Once upon a time, she'd learned to tolerate it because that's just how things were. She couldn't do anything about it, couldn't change it, couldn't take back that night on Draboon. Even if she could, Satine soon came to realize that she didn't want to. She would never take that night back, even if it had killed her, it would've been worth it.
The baby hadn't killed her, however, though baring children had always been a challenge for the Kryze Clan, so no harm done.
Only now, as she gazed at them both, Satine truly began to examine the depths of the harm she could inflict on those she loved most with just a few simple words. And now, the lie on her lips had grown too strong, too bitter even for her years of built up tolerance.
"If it's all the same to you," she added, taking another cool rag from the bowl of water Obi-Wan had filled.
"It's not all the same to me," he replied slowly and when she looked up again, she noticed a trace of a smile on his face, "and I'd much rather you get some sleep. But I'm grateful for the company."
She didn't speak much after that and neither did he. They simply took comfort in each other's presence. Every so often, Satine would voice the question, the first of the only three phrases they knew during that long night.
"How much longer do you think?"
Then, Obi-Wan would pause and gaze down at Korkie. "That depends on him."
She would nod and rewet her cloth. After that, she would either ask some rhetorical question, one he could answer, such as, "Who would ever want to do something so horrid to such a sweet boy?" to which Obi-Wan would just purse his lips and double his attack against the fever.
Or, Obi-Wan would suggest sleep to her again, and every time, she refused.
Once or twice, she leaned across the bed to check on Luke, who only fussed a little before drifting back off into the blissful black void of slumber.
After what felt like an eternity of anguish, she saw Obi-Wan smile. A warm, relieved smile.
"Obi…?" She wouldn't allow herself to hope. The night had dragged on for so long that she wouldn't let herself believe it could finally be over.
"He's going to be all right?" And they both would've been lying if they'd said they always knew he would be because there had been those moments—moments that made her chest seize with such raging anxiety that she had to think hard in order to simply breathe.
"Now," Obi-Wan continued, sitting back with a sigh, "all we can do now is wait for him to wake up."
"What do you think happened? How do you suppose he… well, ended up where he was? Where you found him…"
If you had simply searched harder for him after you escaped Mandalore, none of this would have happened in the first place. How could you let him down so easily?
No, I didn't… I couldn't—
Couldn't what, exactly? What is your line of defense? Stand up and tell the Senate. Speak loud enough for the whole chamber to hear. Satine Kryze Kenobi is guilty. Guilty! Or do you have some sort of valid excuse as to why you left your own son to fend for himself in a galaxy at war?
Stop it! Stop it!
"Satine?" His hand was closed around hers in an instant, his face etched with worry. "I said he's going to be all right. There's no need to—"
"I left him." What started as a mere whisper grew in volume until she was certain she'd wake the baby, but she didn't know how to stop. The tears were already cascading down her dirty cheeks. "I abandoned him, can't you see? He tried to rescue me, and in doing so, he enabled you to come rescue me. But who was there to rescue him when Mandalore shattered into a dozen pieces? Not you, not me, no one! No one was there for him when they should have been. That's why he's here! And it's childish to think that a few hours of cooling his brow with these ridiculous rags is enough to atone for all the ways I've wronged this precious boy!"
"Satine!" his hands were on her shoulders now, gripping them just tight enough to pull her back to reality. "None of this is your fault."
"But it is! Don't you understand? Every bit of it is my fault! I'm the one who failed him! I let him down by staying on Coruscant and not going back after him! I don't even know what happened to him when the planet fell, but he's obviously not in a good place! If only I'd—"
"Satine! Listen to me!" When she forced her gaze upward, she was a bit shocked to find his eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "You couldn't have prevented what happened to Korkie. To go back to Monadalore at that time would've been suicide. You may have been willing to take that risk, but I was not. So, if you need someone to blame, blame me. I'm the one who took you—and only you—to Coruscant. I'm the one who never suggested the possibility of going back to look for your family because I knew the dangers that would come with such a journey. I'm the one who couldn't—"
Whatever he had been about to say, whatever accusation he had been about to pin on himself, Satine had the feeling it wouldn't have pertained to Korkie and Mandalore.
Blinking back his own tears as he gently wiped hers away, Obi-Wan took a breath. "My love, you are not to blame for anything that's happened. Do you understand?"
Slowly, she felt herself nod. Yes… As she studied his glassy orbs, she realized she understood quite well.
"Neither are you," she said, voice soft, yet firm. "Do you understand?"
His lips parted, but before he could make his reply, a low moan pierced the semi-darkness. Korkie…
She snapped to attention. "Korkie? Korkie, dear, can you hear me?"
Though his blinks were sluggish, his eyes shone with recognition. Beside her, Obi-Wan sighed, his relief palpable.
"Auntie…? How… How did you get here?"
"Shh… Don't worry about that now. You just need to rest, all right?"
"Rest?" Wincing, Korkie shook his head, lips quirking into a half-smile. "I think I just did that, didn't I?"
"Yes," Satine replied through a teary laugh, "I suppose you did, indeed."
"Seriously, though," Korkie went on as he made an attempt to sit up, which Satine quickly vetoed, "how did you get here? Phindar is no place for…"
She cocked a brow. "A pacifist dutchess like me?"
"I was going to say a beautiful queen such as yourself, but yours works too."
"Of course, you were."
"Where am I? What happened to…" Korkie glanced about the room until his gaze landed on Luke. "And why am I sleeping next to a baby?"
"Why don't I get us all something to drink," Obi-Wan said, "and we'll swap stories. How does that sound?"
Korkie seemed to notice Obi-Wan's presence for the first time because he whipped his head around, eyes wide. "General Kenobi!"
Her husband chuckled. "I'm afraid it's just Obi-Wan now."
"Right. Obi-Wan. Wait,"—Korkie put a hand to his head and Staine thought he looked a bit too pale—"is the war over?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she locked eyes with Obi-Wan.
"I'll go get those drinks now. I hope you both really enjoy water."
"Oh, it's my favorite," Korkie remarked, mimicking Obi-Wan's dry humor.
"Oh, wonderful."
In less than five minutes, they were all sitting around the small table together. Satine had never been a big drinker—in fact, she hardly drank at all—but in that moment, she longed for a glass of Merenzane Gold to numb the pain. To make this conversation easier.
But water would have to suffice for now. And besides, she knew no amount of alcohol would make that conversation any easier. She had to tell them. Both of them.
After they all swapped stories and caught Korkie up on the events of the war, Satine would tell them.
I've waited long enough, haven't I?
Too long…
And there was no better time like the present, even if the mere thought of what their reactions might be was enough to make her physically ill.
I owe it to them.
I owe it to Korkie.
And to Obi-Wan…