Thank you for your wonderful reviews :) You make sharing this story so rewarding.
Obi Wan had thought himself entirely wise and sensible when he had left Mandalore for the first time. On Mandalore he had hated, and loved, and hurt, and he had meditated for weeks, and he had chosen to leave and he had done so despite the great ache in his chest and Qui Gon Jinn had told him that he would be a magnificent Jedi Knight. Obi Wan had seen his path and chosen to sacrifice the happiness he could have known with Satine for a greater good. He had felt assured in his decision. He had never intended to look back.
And so why, now, was he consumed by such grief? So much grief that Korkie, fumbling blindly through the Force towards him, began to cry and would not stop.
"I'm so sorry Satine, I didn't mean to, I-"
"It's alright."
In a smooth, gentle movement she detached the sling from Obi Wan's bare shoulders and brought their infant son onto her own chest.
"All babies cry, Obi Wan," she consoled him. "I'd like a chance to hold him, anyhow."
She was impossibly regal even as she undid the buttons of her blouse and parted the fabric to let the infant rest against her skin.
"There's some milk in a syringe up in that refrigerator cabinet, Obi Wan, if you could just-"
Obi Wan hurried to comply, rising to his feet to find the cabinet tucked away amongst her many silken skirts.
"And just into the heating console there, if you please."
Nestled against his mother, Korkie was quietening already. There was a flush of contentedness into the Force when Obi Wan presented Satine with the warmed milk and she began to drip it gently into their son's mouth.
"He can't suck properly yet, he's too young for that," Satine murmured in explanation. "I wish that I could breastfeed him but I never made any milk, on account of him arriving so early."
"You're a beautiful mother."
Obi Wan was earnest, but Satine smiled wryly as though he spoke in jest.
"I'm still learning. But doing my best with what I have," she resolved, with a faint smile. "I've not made him any milk, but he at least finds them a comforting resting place," she added, with gentle laughter, indicating to where their son rested his cheek against her breast. "It's fortunate that I have been graced with such a tiny infant, given I'm endowed so frugally myself."
Stars. The chest that he had once rested his head upon. The soft skin that he had kissed. Had he kissed her there, on the day they had made Korkie? Obi Wan was flooded with memories he had never meant to revisit.
"You're perfect," he protested.
Satine only laughed in response.
Get a grip, Obi Wan.
"He looks rather contented," he rephrased, measuredly.
"Indeed," Satine mused, as the last traces of her smile faded away. "So, Obi Wan."
She fixed him with a look that could have killed him.
"When you said you didn't want to fly away and never see him again… what sort of arrangement are you suggesting, precisely?"
And Obi Wan didn't know the answer to that question, blast it.
"I- I have to be present in his life. He has to know I'm his father."
He was stammering like a youngling. He was speaking undisciplined words of attachment.
"I don't want him to grow without knowing his father. I want to know him."
Satine nodded thoughtfully.
"He is your child as much as he is mine, Obi Wan, and if that is your wish I will respect it," she answered, placing each word with care. "But I do not want your hand to be forced by a sense of duty or expectation on my part. You must know that I am not asking you to stay."
Her words had all the power of the weapon that had killed his Master before his eyes; he felt some enormous hole open in his chest.
But I need you to ask me to stay.
"Master Qui Gon had me promise, as he lay dying, that I would train that boy."
Tell me that Qui Gon did me wrong, Satine. Tell me I needn't listen.
But Satine did not skip a beat.
"I understand, Obi Wan."
"I will visit, as much as I can. Whenever I can."
"You will remain a Jedi."
"Yes."
He would remain a Jedi in name but he was tearing the Code to shreds with every word he spoke.
"It's not fair to you, Satine, I know it's not, but Anakin needs me. No one else in the Council will train him, and I promised Qui Gon-"
And those gentle words again, so impossibly painful.
"I understand, Obi Wan."
She would let him walk away, again. And he would do it.
"I don't understand," he admitted.
His voice was barely a whisper. Satine waited in generous silence for him to speak again.
"When we parted, Satine, the first time, I felt so surely in the Force that the choice I had made was right. But everything has changed now-"
"Your decision was right," Satine intoned firmly. "And it needn't change."
"Satine, Korkie changes ev-"
"Korkie does not change anything," she cut him off, and he sensed for the first time a slip in her faultless countenance; he sensed her own grief. "You knew when you left, I presume, that we could have had a family together. You knew that, and you chose the Jedi over Mandalore. You were right to do so, Obi Wan. You are meant for greater things. Korkie does not change that."
Obi Wan shook his head, unable to find words. What could be greater than loving this child? Murky visions of war and fire crowded Obi Wan's mind. He was needed, somewhere. By who? For what?
The Force gave him no answer.
Nothing made sense. Nothing had made sense ever since that black-and-red demon had come into their lives, since that enormous Darkness had reared its head in the Force, since they had met Anakin and Obi Wan had killed a Sith and Master Qui Gon had died and bound him to an impossible promise and broken his heart in one fell swoop.
"I don't understand, Satine," he said again.
He reached for her then; they were so close, already, chests bare and radiating heat in the Sundari summer. He reached a hand to her shoulder and pulled her into him, leaving a space for Korkie between them, and he leant to bury his face in her shoulder but-
"No, Obi Wan, I-"
She pushed him gently back.
"I'm sorry, Obi Wan, I should have… made clear-"
She looked to the ceiling as she searched for words. Obi Wan listened to the thundering of his heart.
"If you are to remain a Jedi, Obi Wan, if you are to flit in and out of our lives between missions…"
Her voice quavered and she blinked rapidly.
"We can never be romantically involved again, Obi Wan. It would break my-"
Her voice hitched and she pressed her fingers beneath her eyes.
"So sorry, Obi Wan, it's a terrible thing about having a baby… All the hormones plummet and you don't get any sleep and even the tiniest thing…"
"This isn't tiny, Satine-"
"…even the tiniest thing makes me cry these days," she finished, with a watery smile, finding a firm voice again. "But you understand, don't you? That I cannot-"
"I understand," Obi Wan agreed, cutting her off before she could say it again. "It is for the best. For both of us."
She was right, he was right, of course they were. But it felt horrid.
"Korkie ought to know, as he grows, that his mother and father are friends who respect each other," Satine resolved, with all the conviction of one of her great speeches to the masses in Sundari. "I don't want him to have any grief over his parents living separately. I want him to know that we loved each other once and that we grew and found different paths but that we respect each other still, and that we care for him."
Obi Wan nodded sombrely.
"Yes."
Boundaries firmly established, Satine deigned to lay a comforting hand on his.
"I'm sorry to have brought you all this news, Obi Wan, so soon after Qui Gon's passing. It is an enormous change."
Obi Wan shook his head.
"For every challenge, Satine…"
He mounted a brave posture of his own.
"There is infinite peace in the Force."
The presence grew stronger with every step that Anakin took. After a brief trip to the 'fresher – fortunately, not difficult to find – Anakin let it guide him. The Jedi Archives, Anakin recalled from his brief first visit to Coruscant, were in a basement, and he had suspected the same of the archives in Sundari, but the presence today instead led him upwards to a quiet floor of the palace.
It was hard to put an exact name to the presence he could feel. Anakin wondered if he'd sensed something like it during his visit to the Jedi Temple, but it was difficult to say, for during that trip his senses had been so crowded by so many vibrant presences in the Force, all those hundreds of Jedi, and it had been difficult to pull apart the individual strands. This presence perhaps felt like a child, except that it did not seem to project any of the concrete thoughts or feelings that Anakin was accustomed to sensing in others. Maybe it was a child asleep.
Stronger and stronger it pulled, and faster and faster Anakin trotted along, forgetting entirely to wonder whether Obi Wan might be mad at his abandoning his designated task with Hushie and the droids. Anakin could feel Obi Wan in the Force too and he was sad. Anakin knew that feeling; it was the same churning, mixed-up sadness that he had felt on the day that he had won his freedom and lost his mother and his home. It would have been wrong for Anakin to stay with the droids when his Master was feeling that way.
A lone figure in the hallway – a guard, perhaps, or a worker – said something to Anakin as he passed. Anakin decided to chance some Mando'a in return, because Obi Wan said that exploring culture was important.
"Vor'entye."
He didn't know what it meant, exactly, only that he'd heard Obi Wan say it to lots of different people so far today. The worker looked at Anakin a little strangely but it seemed to do the trick. He charged onwards, rounding a corner.
And very suddenly the truth of the presence reared up clear and true before him and Anakin stopped in his tracks. Before he could decide whether it was a good idea to continue on his mission, a door opened and Obi Wan and the Duchess Kryze stepped out into the hallway before him.
"Anakin, what are you doing here?"
Uh oh. Obi Wan's expression was dark. The Duchess was frowning.
"I, um…"
He should have been focusing on articulating his words, but Anakin's mind noticed instead that Obi Wan was wearing his tabards differently, which meant that he must have taken them off. Anakin knew about sex but he didn't think that Obi Wan and the Duchess had been doing it. He knew lots about sex because there was a slave owner next door back on Tatooine who owned slaves for sex, and Anakin could sense the reek of it from a mile away. But why, if not for sex, had Obi Wan undressed?
"I sensed something and… I thought that maybe you needed my help?"
Obi Wan raised a sceptical brow, but did not argue. He instead shrugged it off and mounted a smile.
"Not to worry Anakin, all is well here and our work is done. It is time for us return to Coruscant."
He shut the door firmly on the room that definitely wasn't the archives – Anakin thought he had glimpsed a bed – and placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder and began to lead him back the way he had come, the Duchess Kryze trailing a step behind them.
"Did you tell Husharn before running off?" Obi Wan chided. "He must be worried about you."
Anakin took a deep breath, and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Anakin-"
Obi Wan's impatient hand at his shoulder again.
"It's time to leave now. Come along."
He was going to get in so much trouble for this. But Anakin was pretty sure that Obi Wan wouldn't beat him like Watto did, and he couldn't go away without at least asking-
"Can I see the baby, please?"
Anakin! Beautifully gifted in the Force, less so in the nuances of adult life. Oops.
Mando'a translation: vor'entye = thank you. Anakin giving Mando'a a red-hot go without knowing what he's talking about makes me laugh.
I'm sorry that the exchange between Obi Wan and Satine was so sad here. They are both so impossibly selfless that I cannot promise the much anticipated happy family in the near future.
What I can promise in the next chapter, however, is a meeting between Anakin and his tiny almost-brother, and a new challenge for our besieged Obi Wan to face: the inevitable discussion of the origin of babies.
xx - S.