Chapter 17: Love in a Hopeless Place

The sun setting on Naboo had quite the eerie prophecy. Watching the marching darkness chase the last light to the end was a grave significance. An impending doom that was unstoppable. Yet, even in the midst of the coming blackest night, there were pockets of light from the glow of the stars and the fires lit by the citizens of Naboo. Even in the darkest times, a single light would always remain.

Obi-Wan viewed the celebrations high up in the palace, looking down with thoughts that were amiss by others. He unconsciously rubbed his neck. He still felt the assassin's hand pushing down on his throat, suffocating him. The bruises would fade in time. Otherwise he was physically fine. Nose wasn't broken. Throat would need vocal rest. But compared to other injuries—like Garen, who was still in critical condition with survival pending—he was a lucky man.

Obi-Wan didn't feel lucky. He survived the duel, but he was defeated in a way he could not entirely explain to people without the Force.

Anakin joined Padmé in the celebrations, impressing her with his heroic tale of taking down the control ship. Obi-Wan listened to Anakin's riveting tale of plunging into the battleship's main hanger and while he was aware he should have scolded Anakin on his disobedience and recklessness, he found he didn't have the heart to do so. Anakin survived and saved a planet. He deserved the honors and praises without the lecture.

And now, Obi-Wan found himself a secluded place to reflect what has happened the past two weeks and the future to come.

His mind was lost. He walked in a fog that wouldn't lift. The Battle for Naboo only lasted six hours. From the moment they landed to the point Obi-Wan found himself staring out in the setting sun, only six hours passed.

Yet, it felt like he lived his whole life. Six hours became sixty years.

He recognized the jubilant cheers from the celebration below and noted the broken droids that were piled up high in the plaza as a bonfire. The control ship was destroyed. The blockade disabled. And the Neimoidians arrested for war crimes. Naboo was completely free.

Yet, Obi-Wan felt chained.

A soft clip of a boot intruded on his solitude. Most likely another handmaiden the Queen sent to check on him. Obi-Wan stepped away from his hideaway to report he was alive and well when he came to a dead halt.

It was not a handmaiden.

In the warm glow of the setting sun, blue eyes shimmered like the Solleu River flowing through the city. Blonde hair blazed gold, fastened in one of the more simplistic hairstyles. The outfit was plain, easy to blend in a chaotic city. The appearance unnoticed if one didn't pay attention.

Obi-Wan noticed. How could he not?

Satine. Oh Satine.

A tiny smirk graced the Duchess's face upon seeing Obi-Wan's stunned reaction. "Obi-Wan," she said, stopping short of approaching him. "I was told I might find you here."

Obi-Wan searched for his voice. "Satine? I—what are you doing here?"

Satine was perplexed. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You called."

"Yes, I did, but I didn't think…" Obi-Wan closed the gap between them, staring down into her eyes. "I didn't think you would personally come."

Satine turned to move closer to the window, the night finally conquering the day. "Of course I would come," she said. "I needed to return the favor."

"There was no favor to return."

Satine modestly shrugged, her eyes peering up at Obi-Wan with quiet affection. Obi-Wan drowned in them. He sunk into their shared memories, the fleeting touches and moments where their hearts beat as one. A teardrop of emotions trickled from his flawless control. Pieces chipped away, exposing him to the raw pain he concealed too well in front of others. Everyone, but Satine.

Seeing her again was gratifying and wondrous and painful and regretful. A single word could rip open the wounds again. The ones he patched unevenly years ago. Though he dreamed of her on nights he felt the loneliest, he never spoke of her. She stayed inside his heart. Safe and secured.

And now, she broke out. Satine stood before him still as beautiful as he remembered. She cupped the side of his head, her thumb brushing away evidence of his love. Her touch crumbled him and he fell into her embrace, resting his head in the nook of her neck.

They stayed like that. Clasped together in sanctuary and hope. In peace and unrest. In love and hurt. Many years ago, on a night like this when they narrowly escaped with their lives, they held each other to recognize their survival and solace. A promise that all will be well in the end.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, relaxing in Satine's arms. She smelled of fresh meadow and Obi-Wan's mind sprouted a memory of them standing in a soft meadow, waiting for Qui-Gon to return with supplies. It was the first time she kissed him. He remembered how soft her lips were on his own. How warm they felt against his cold touch. How his heart trembled and his stomach fluttered. How his hands raised to hold her.

He drew back from Satine, his callous hands brushing a strand of fine silver-gold hair out of her face. He leaned. He wasn't quite sure why he was doing it. Warm breath fluttered between them. The close proximity bringing them back to their earlier years. Wild hopes flaring up young hearts.

Her and him. Him and her. Them.

The kiss was gentle. Powerful in the way it banished every ache in his mind and body. All of the darkness that convoluted him fled in the blinding light. Blissful. Pure like the Force.

And it was ripped away when Satine took a step back.

"We can't."

They broke. Satine didn't dare look up and Obi-Wan was wrought with guilt.

"I'm sorry." Obi-Wan hadn't meant to discomfort her.

Satine moved. Her feet sliding across the marble to the window, eyes cast downward to the celebrations below. "Remember how it all started?" she asked, her voice drifted into the silence like a tender whisper for only him to hear. "How it all ended?"

Obi-Wan bowed his head, covering up his slip and restoring his controlled mien. "I'm sorry," he said again. He meant it. Their last parting was difficult and it broke them. When he departed with Qui-Gon, he died. And when he died, she died too. Their souls burned on the pyre of their love.

And it still burned.

Satine straightened, shoulders back and returning to her Duchess stature. "We can never go back," she muttered. "Let us move only forward."

Obi-Wan agreed. "Yes, of course," he said, wanting to move pass his slip. "Let's discuss the reason I called."

He glanced around the corridor. It was relatively empty with the exception of Satine's personal guard that Obi-Wan only just noticed hanging at the end of the corridor. However, Obi-Wan knew better than to trust sight alone. "Let's go somewhere more private," he urged. "This is a delicate matter."

"I'm aware," Satine said, turning away from the window and following him down the corridor.

Her guards joined them, keeping at least five steps behind them. Obi-Wan led them through the palace, taking Satine to his private quarters that Padmé established for him and Anakin. He unlocked the door, and ushered both Satine and her guards into the room. But Satine held her hand up, instructing the guards to remain outside to guard the door.

The guards took their post on either side of the door. Obi-Wan secured the lock behind him. "This place is safe," he told Satine. "I checked it for all communications."

The quarters designated to them were lavished. It had a grand opening with two sofas-couches, an entertainment center, and four shelving units filled with reading materials. In a secluded area was a small kitchen and dining room complete with a food and drinks. On the opposite side was the bedroom. Unlike the normal cramped and stiff beddings Obi-Wan and Anakin were accustomed too, this bed was opulent and soft. The body sank into the foam and the mattress formed around the body to comfort it. Anakin couldn't help but drop himself in the bed upon arriving, letting himself sink into its depths. But, Anakin had run off to join Padmé, leaving it in a wrinkled and disheveled state of disturbance.

Obi-Wan joined Satine at the sofa-couches. "Sorry for the secrecy," he said. "But I need to ensure we are not overheard."

"That's fine," Satine said, placing her hands on her lap as she eyed the place. "I never thought you to be living in a palace."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at a sarcastic angle. "Only in dirt and caves, right?" he challenged with humor. "Don't worry, Duchess. I won't be staying long here. It's just for the night. Queen Amidala insisted."

He ambled to the kitchen. "Anything to drink or eat?"

"Tea would be nice."

Obi-Wan put on a kettle and returned to the sofa-couches. He chose to sit across from Satine. "I'm grateful that Mandalore heeded my call. I know the relationship with the Jedi is not good."

Satine dipped her chin with one brow arching in fluttered amusement. "That is putting it mildly, Obi-Wan," she said. "But I have good memories of the Jedi. That is why we came upon the call."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you much details over the com. Delicate matters," he murmured, disturbed once again by the mere thought of being overheard by a non-friendly. "I need your assistance in smuggling a boy out of Naboo."

Satine's eyebrows sharpened. The icy demeanor she had on Mandalore returned. "You want me to commit a crime?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No! Of course not!" he said, hurriedly. "No, he's—it's complicated. His name is Anakin and he's in grave danger. He needs a place to hide and I… I had hoped Mandalore would do the honor of keeping him safe for a period of time."

Satine cold features melted. Her narrowed eyes slacked as she tentatively continued to listen.

"I'm sure you probably heard the news that I am a wanted man," Obi-Wan explained and he waited for Satine to acknowledge the statement. She did nothing. Obi-Wan continued on. "Long ago, I abandoned the Order and took a child with me. I feared for his safety if I left him behind. Since then, we've been hiding.

"Unfortunately, the Trade Federation's invasion of Naboo exposed our location," Obi-Wan said. "It won't be long before they come for Anakin. To protect him, I need to smuggle him off planet tonight.

"Queen Amidala is aware of the plan. She will be providing decoy ships per Master Yoda's instructions" Obi-Wan explained, staring at her with moonlit eyes and a beggar's cry. "I hope that, if you accept Duchess, you would take Anakin to Mandalore, disguise him as some sort of nephew or long-lost relative of yours. Protect him under your regime until I can return for him."

"Where will you be?" Satine queried, taking in the request with scrutinizing contemplation.

Obi-Wan fell back against the cushions of his seat, rubbing his hand along his bare prickly jawline. "Hopefully distracting them away from Anakin's position," he said. "Once it's safe, I will come back for Anakin. I promise. For now, I need to get him to safety. He doesn't realize or understand the danger he is in and I fear if we stay in Naboo any longer it will put him in jeopardy."

He noticed Satine's mouth curve down in sympathetic concern. After all, she lived a year of her life in danger and on the run. If anyone understood, it would be Satine.

Obi-Wan inched closer, sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Will Mandalore help us?" he pleaded, once again finding himself at her mercy. "Will you help us?"

Already he knew the answer. He could feel it through the Force. Her confusion remained, but her acceptance to the task was clear. She gave a single nod. "I'll escort young Anakin out of Naboo and he shall receive protection under House Kryze."

Obi-Wan let out a grateful sigh. "Thank you."

The kettle whistled low, drawing the attention of the occupants toward its steam. Obi-Wan got up and walked to the stove just when it was ready to scream. He pulled it off the stove top and found two teacups. He steeped tea leaves in the water and waited for a minute or two before he poured the steamy tea in the cups.

With an easy grace, he balanced the two full teacups and passed one to Satine. The Duchess accepted the tea and blew the top of her tea, watching the steam wisp away by her breath. Obi-Wan set his tea down to cool on its own accord.

"You have questions," Obi-Wan observed as he watched her slowly take a sip of the tea. "Please—ask."

Satine set her tea down, her fingers tapping the tip. "I have heard of your plight. Many people in the galaxy have," she stated matter-of-factly. "What I don't understand is why you ran from the Jedi Order. It seems you are still in good favor with Master Yoda. Why would you run? Didn't you always want to be a Jedi?"

Obi-Wan reached for his tea, not caring that a single touch scalded his skin. "I did… I do—it's complicated," he said, taking an unsteady drink. "Do you remember when I talked about the Jedi history to you?"

Satine nodded.

"Do you remember what I said about the Sith?"

Again, Satine nodded.

"I wasn't running away from the Order," Obi-Wan clarified. "I was running away from them."

Satine arched a quizzical brow. "The Sith are extinct, Obi-Wan. You told me that yourself."

"I lied."

Satine stared, blanked. She leaned back in her seat, befuddled and hurt by his deception. Obi-Wan moved to the edge of his seat, elbows on his knees as he spoke with care. "I had to lie to you, Satine. It wasn't safe for you."

She looked up, startled by the assertion. "What do you mean I wasn't safe? I was with you and Master Jinn! And already, I wasn't safe in my own home planet because of a civil war. What could have possibly put me in any more danger?"

Obi-Wan fixed a hard gaze at her. "My master."

Satine nearly spilled her tea. With the Force, Obi-Wan guided it back to the table ledge. Her face had drained of color as her widening eyes looked to Obi-Wan with a plea to tell her it wasn't true at all. She stared hard at his face, waiting for a smile to crack, an eye to twinkle—anything to say she heard wrong.

It didn't come. She twisted her dress in her fingers. "Master Jinn? A Sith?" she repeated, a mere shocking whisper. "But... he was protecting me! You and he helped me restore peace on Mandalore."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Qui-Gon portrayed himself as a dutiful Jedi," he said with depressed acknowledgment. "But he's a Sith. Has been since I turned fifteen years old." A pregnant pause interrupted as both he and Satine took in the truth. "I never said a word about him to you. I feared what would happened if I did."

The blue blaze of her wrath returned in her eyes. "You should have told me," Satine argued. "I would have liked to know that I was mingling with someone who would see harm to me and others!"

"I wouldn't have let it happen," Obi-Wan assured her. "I would have protected you."

"Like you did with the venom-mites?"

Obi-Wan scowled. "Excuse me Duchess, but I recall carrying you to safety."

"After you dropped me," she said, clipped. She narrowed her eyes on him. The blue irises like icicles shooting straight to his bones. "Tell me the truth. Would you have been able to beat Master Jinn?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to contrast her. To defend himself at her accusation, but it dawned on him that no words came to his defense. He couldn't rebuke it. He closed his mouth, downcast. It only riled Satine up more.

"So you left me uninformed and had me dependent on a Sith Lord!" she accused, teeth baring down in a snarl. She shot up to her feet, glaring down at him with vivid displeasure. "You wouldn't have been able to stop him if he decided I wasn't worth it."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't have defended you!" Obi-Wan insisted, rising to his feet as well. Did she not listen to a word he said? He would have laid down his life to save her. "You think I would let him hurt you?"

"I wouldn't know! You were an obedient Jedi. Following his commands," Satine impugned, a sweet bitterness chewed out on her teeth. "If he was a Sith that entire time, why didn't you leave him? Why didn't you run?"

A more difficult question to answer. Obi-Wan's shoulders slackened. It was a question he wondered for years. Why did he return to Qui-Gon? He had the chance to leave. He could have stayed on Mandalore, lived with Satine and have a happier and easier life. He wouldn't have to live on the run or be hunted. He could have lived in Satine's offer of peace instead of being dragged around by Dooku and Qui-Gon. It was an escape from the cruelties that cloaked his future.

Satine's anger was understandable. He had inadvertently placed her in Qui-Gon's path. Placed her in the eyes of the serpent, ready to be devoured if time called for it. But, the anger wasn't at the danger that Qui-Gon posed to her. Her anger was a gift from Obi-Wan. She silently offered her heart and he rejected for a life of pain. They could love one another without any guilt or chaos that came from one being a Jedi and the other a Duchess. He knew of the torturous path he led and yet, he still chose it over her. Over their happiness and love. He chose pain than love.

Satine grew impatient with his silence. "Well?"

Obi-Wan wiped his face with his hand. "You make it sound like I had a choice," he said. "I couldn't leave."

Belly clenched as he remembered when they stood in the throne room, the unspoken question lingering between them. He at least owed her an explanation for everything he did on Mandaolore. Explain the reasons why he caused her pain. Obi-Wan fumbled with his sleeve's ends, looking through a despondent haze.

"It's not because I didn't want to be with you," Obi-Wan quietly enforced. He needed her to know that. If he could, he would have always been at her side to protect her. "I really had no choice. I had to go."

In very few words, he showed her the bleeding heart that bled and crusted in cycles. Every ounce of love he held for her was confessed. He showed her the weapon that killed him. The very act which broke him in pieces while he wore a straight face. He wanted to reach for her and hold close, to be saved, to spare her the sacrifice. He took his own life for her, and for so many years, he lived with the regret of breaking her heart.

Satine's anger melted into a sad understanding. The flame that rampaged her smothered out and she cradled her elbows at the confession. Slowly, she glided across, bridging the gap between them. The moonlight hit her face, making her skin as pale as the dead. A beautiful horror to Obi-Wan.

Her hands tenderly caress Obi-Wan's cheek. She regarded him with an edge of pity and remorse. "What has he done to you?"

Obi-Wan clasped his own hand around hers. "Nothing that didn't heal in time," he reassured her with a small smile. "He hasn't destroyed me yet."

Satine's fingers trembled under Obi-Wan's callous hands. Her lungs barely expanding at the realization of what he did all those years ago. She drew closer, her head resting against his chest. She was listening to his troubled heart, secured in knowing it at least beat for her.

Obi-Wan closed his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. He hadn't meant to trouble her with his problems. He didn't regret the actions. Only the consequences. He did what he had to keep her safe. She did what she had to do to save her planet. Both wrapped in their love and folly for one another.

It was funny how they had slowly fallen in love. At the beginning, they couldn't stand each other. Obi-Wan disliked being in her presence, listening to her criticize the Order for their use of weapons and justification to use it as a symbol of peace. To him, she was an idealist and needed to realize that bloodshed was inevitable in cases of civil war. But, Qui-Gon kept leaving him in charge of her safety when he left to gather supplies or investigate.

It was those moments together that things began to blur. Arguments turned to banter. Disgust turned to respect. Unbearable turned to fleeting touches. Their rhythm changes, fast and uncontrolled to slow and steady. In those brief times, they forgotten who they were, what they were, and what they were to become. Two stars falling from their rigid constellation to burn as bright as starlight before turning to stardust, scattered when the winds shifted them in different directions.

A heartbreaking end for something that was pure and true. But they knew how it would end. Their tryst was always going to end in suffering.

And it did. Obi-Wan left her and she left him. Neither willing to kill the other, to force them to give up their birthrights. In an unfortunate turn of events, Obi-Wan made the hard choice. He took his own life. He sacrificed himself so that Satine could live in peace and rule her planet without the troubles he would bring to her.

Obi-Wan heard a small snuffle and through the Force, he felt her sadness and tears. He desperately wanted to remove her suffering. His hands moved up her back, rubbing tiny circles along her spine to undo the knots that formed. She sighed against him and Obi-Wan didn't see the Duchess of Mandalore. He saw, in his arms, the young woman he dreamed of so often. The woman in his visions that brought happiness, laughter and blissfulness.

She returned and was cradled in his arms.

Satine lifted her head up. He looked down.

Warm breath fluttered, kindling a dry desire into a blazing flame. The fire disintegrated all the pretense they kept, leaving them vulnerable for ruins. They gave each other a weapon, ready to receive destruction or salvation. They experienced the tilting of the axis, the drop in gravity. They remembered how close they have gotten. The exultation! The regret! Entwined together.

They remembered how it started.

They remembered how it ended.

Yet, neither were willing to stab the other. There was no rescue. No life or death choice. Only them in the chasm of the unspoken longing and forgiveness. Nothing to slow their descent. Gentle and emphatic, they pressed together, a bright promise of brief salvation for the black nights to come.