Huzzah! A chapter two. Less politics this time, I swear. :P

Two weeks after Satine was elected, the Traditionalists openly declared war against the New Mando'ade.

Qui-Gon Jinn ordered that he and Kenobi take her and go into hiding. Satine, of course, protested. There was no fairness in her living safely while her people fought and died for the New Mando'ade. Many in her name. But her father, and the council, had not allowed her to say no, and had ordered her to Kelevala, her home planet.

She remembered nothing of it. Her father had moved to Mandalore to gain a better foot in the political world before she had even uttered her first word. But her mother had brought them back once, sometimes twice a year for their bajur, their education, and for two weeks they would roam the forest, eating only what they could catch and to learn to cook over a fire and to sleep on the earth.

Satine had not done so well, especially at first. The tracking, the tailing, the entrapping of opponents was not among her talents and she had no enthusiasm to make up for it.

"Perhaps you are too tall." Bo-Katan had teased her. "The animals see you coming a mile away, no wonder you catch nothing."

At fourteen Satine had shot up like a weed, becoming gangly, stringy, no matter how hard she trained. A spear so thin no self respecting warrior would choose her for a weapon.

Bo-Katan had called her ruugami'la. Old spear. A name for something too thin and worn to be useful. She'd hated it at the time.

Nevertheless, despite her shortcomings as a hunter, she knew how to survive in the wilderness on Kalevala, and so her father sent her home.

She well remembered their parting conversation. His warm, heavy hands on her shoulders, and his commanding voice.

"It's for the best ner ade, my child. The people look up to you, depend on you. You are the future of Mandalore. You must remain safe."

"I should be with them." Satine said, her fists clenching.

He smiled a little, the charming way he did at politicians. "It's only for a few weeks until we have a better footing."

That had been two months ago.

She, Kenobi, and Jinn roamed the forest for weeks, feasting upon the meat of its animals and whatever fresh greenery they could find. They rose with the morning sun, dew drops shining upon the grass and fell asleep to the whirr of the laararir'min, singing bugs, in the trees. They bathed in crystal clear rivers and took refuge from the rain in damp caves that smelled of green and life.

Satine hated every minute of it. At least once a week she dragged them nearer to civilization than Jinn would have liked and used her helmet to listen to the news. The best signal came from the tops of the trees, so she climbed as high as she dared and sat on the sticky branches. She listened for hours, tuning again and again in hopes of clearing the crackling static to glean the information broadcasted.

It wasn't good.

"It's a trap." Jinn warned as she relayed the news to them around the campfire one night. "They hope you'll hear their claims. Just because they say you've abandoned your people does not mean they believe it." He smiled. "Have faith, Duchess."

"I am not a Duchess." Satine said. "Not until my father passes."

"You filled the role of your mother well, I heard."

"That's not how it works." She told him, and she looked down at her stew. Kenobi had made it. He'd turned out to have a great talent for hunting. He was patient enough to outwait any deer. He wasn't bad at cooking either, though Satine knew from experience it was difficult to make a bad stew, especially after a whole day to work up an appetite.

"My father wouldn't let them report a betrayal like that." She said quietly, stirring around bits of herbs. "It would be too damaging for morale. But I could prove them wrong. Many of our allies refuse to help us. If I could visit some of them, even in secret-"

"Absolutely not." Jinn frowned. "Your father tasked us with keeping you safe-"

"What is the point of keeping me safe-" Satine snapped, "-if I hide in a forest and do nothing. What use am I? Am I to remain in hiding until they win my throne for me to return to? What will I have done to earn their respect then?"

"Perhaps we could send a message-" Kenobi began.

"A message. My people fight and die for their freedom and peace and I should send them a message." Satine lips thinned. "Perhaps I have not abandoned my people, but I am faithful to them either."

An awkward silence fell around the camp. Kenobi looked down at his bowl, his jaw set.

"I'm not sure you realize your importance, your grace." Jin said softly. "Leaders like you are not common. War is terrible, but short, and without those to bring order aftwards, it will be for nothing."

Satine's hand clenched around her spoon. "Ori Shonar. The Great Upheaval," she recited darkly, "was a war that broke clans and ripped apart families. We can still trace the roots of our modern clans to that time. It lasted for a hundred and fifty seven years. Four generations of my family fought in it.

Ca be Chaabar, Nights of Terror, lasted for forty seven years. My sh'ehn ba'buir, my grandmother eight generations before me lost twelve of her eighteen children to those raids. Te Hettyc, The Burning introduced the high powered bombs now used in modern warfare. The continent of KI'oe was burned to sand. Millions died. Even then it lasted seventeen years-"

"Your grace-" Jinn said sternly, his face hardening.

"We are not like what you have seen." She said, nearly throwing her bowl into the dirt. Soup spilled out over the edge, steaming against the cold ground. "Our people have worshiped the battlefield for millennia. Loss and grief have become so common to us we have convinced ourselves it is natural. Now we stand on the cusp of a new era free of this pain, and you would have me sit back and hope that it will come for me to rule it."

She spat at his feet and stalked away into the forest.

There was a ledge of sorts not far away. A shallow one, barely more than a roof of rock. She settled in the deepest corner and wept. Shameful tears streamed down in abundance in her cheeks. She did not even have the strength to wipe them away.

She was too old for crying. Crying was for children, and she had not been one in years.

A shadow moved outside the cave. Satine snatched her blaster, shoving at her wet weeks. She leveled her blaster towards the movement, then paused.

"Be'in?" She called out into the night.

Slowly, he emerged from the greenery. "Your grace." He said tentatively. The moonlight was so bright she could see it sparkling off his eyes. "I just wanted to ensure you weren't captured by some enterprising bounty hunter."

"Oh please." She holstered her gun and turned away to wipe away the last stray tears. "If they were going to find me they would have by now."

His face twisted. "Naturally."

"Dear Ka'ra." She turned. "If you have an opinion, speak it."

"Well." Kenobi shrugged, running a hand through his hair. Over the past two months, with no razor or scissors, his hair had grown several centimeters. It made it much easier to ignore the hideous braid and bun at the back. "I know our time out in the forest has made us forget there is a life other than the one of the nomad, but there is a war going on."

Satine snorted. "Hilarious." She stepped forward and ruffled his hair. "You almost look a human." She teased.

He frowned. "I wish I didn't."

"Why? It does you credit."

"It's…" he sighed and sat down against the cave wall. She joined him. "It's traditional. My braid-" he drew it out, fingering the beads. "-I began growing it out when I became a padawan. An… apprentice, a hibir. The hair is meant to emphasize it. The honor, of being able to become a Jedi."

Satine stared at him. "Is it an honor?"

"Well." Kenobi looked down. "Not all the younglings become Jedi. I thought- I thought I would never be one. I was never as good as the others, the masters just kept looking over me-"

"Then they're fools." She interrupted.

"I-what?" He looked at her.

"You are not naturally talented, no." She admitted. "But you are consistent, and I have never seen such perseverance. And you are humble and willing to learn." She punched his shoulder gently. "That is far more important than talent."

Kenobi rubbed his arm, his face quiet in thought.

"Thank you." He said, quietly.

"Your welcome." She cocked her head, staring at him curiously. "You are not considered fully grown, then? Master Jinn does not have one."

"I won't technically be a Jedi until my apprenticeship is complete. The braid will be cut then."

She squinted. "When will that be?"

He shrugged. "Whenever my master feels I am ready."

He didn't know? How could he not know? What if his master was a cruel one that refused to allow his apprentice to move on?

"Mother gave me her beskar'gam when I was fourteen." She told him, aghast. "Of course if I was a hopeless fighter they might have waited a year or so but-" she shook her head in exasperation. "Jetiise."

"Master Qui-Gon is a wise master." Kenobi said firmly. Perhaps too firmly. Did he think his master was holding him back? "He will allow me to take the trials when I am ready."

"I think you're ready now."

He glanced warily at her, as if expecting a lie. "I can't even beat you in a fight."

"Well-" she grasped her knees and nudged his shoulder. "-you've gotten much better. Do not think I have not seen you training while the water is heating up. And you were right, very few people outside of Mandalore train in saber combat anymore."

He smiled at that. "And at last the lady admits the truth."
"I am no liar, Be'in." She drummed her fingers. It was strange to think that someone as old as him not being fully grown. Even her bill would have named him an adult by now. Still, the Jetiise were a skilled lot, and skill took time. Perhaps more than the average Mandalorian. They had an image to uphold. One that allowed them to cast aside the children they found to be lacking.

"What happens to the children that are not made hibir?" Satine asked. "Do you return them to their families?"

"They can, if they want." Kenobi shrugged. "Most don't. They go to the corps, like I did. They assist with recovery. Helping needy worlds establish crops, or building communities. Things like that."

"Noble work."

"Yes. But, you're not a Jedi." Kenobi said, and he chuckled. "I wanted to be a Jedi."

Satine nodded. It did seem a cruel system, to pick and choose which ade, children would be allowed to become a warrior. You did not give up on a child because they did not fit your idea of what should be, you worked with them until they were the best of themselves.

But then, they had accepted Kenobi eventually, and he did so very much want to be one.

"I could cut your hair for you." She offered.

Kenobi blinked. "Could you?" He said, nearly excited.

"Don't excite yourself, Jetii." She unsheathed a knife and held it out in the moonlight, letting it gleam. "I might decide to follow the ways of my ancestors and slit your neck."

He rolled his eyes towards the moon. "Just make it quick." He glanced around the cave. "If we could find a rock, or a log for you to sit on…"

"Oh, move away from the wall." She batted his arm. "I'll kneel."

He scooched forward obediently, and Satine stood on her knees in front of him. She plucked a hair from her head and swiped her knife across it. It sliced neatly in half.

Carefully, she took a tuft of hair over his forehead and began slicing away.

"You love your father, then?" Kenobi said quietly, almost carefully.

"With all my heart." Satine blew a few strands of hair away. "He is truly dedicated to our cause, it is what he has worked for his whole life."

"And your mother?"

"My mother…" she pressed her lips together.

"What?" Kenobi asked.

"Theirs was a marriage of convenience." She said. "They did not love one another as family should. It of course reflected on our family. She was… quiet. She watched us. She watched me a lot. My father did the talking. She loved me, I think, but I had too much of my father for her to show it much."

"Oh." He slumped a little. "I'm sorry."

"She was a great warrior." Satine told him. "My father wanted to pull away from our violent past. She disagreed. She was the one to start our training so young."

Our. Haar'chak. Silly slip. Bo-Katan was gone. Satine could not, would not, acknowledge her out loud.

Fortunately, Kenobi did not notice. "She would have been a Traditionalist, then?"

"Oh no. Of course not." She leaned to cut away at the side of his head. She edged her knife around his ear, brushing away the stray hairs. "She was a True Mando'ade. She died fighting for their cause."

Kenobi hands twisted together in his lap. "I'm sorry. That was… it was a terrible mistake. We should not have- we started a whole new class to combat that sort of trickery, and we are taught-"

"She died long before you Jetii came along." Satine said. "I don't blame you for her death."

She didn't blame herself either, not really. But sometimes she wondered if her mother had kept the beskar plate, she might have survived. "She always knew how far I could go, even if I didn't, and she never hesitated to push me towards it. Even if I thought she was torturing me." She paused at the curve of his left ear. "I miss her."

"How do you know she loved you?"

There was a very small, tiny sort of way he said that. It reminded her of the many hours he had stood by his master, watching him talk and meditate with nary an acknowledgment for himself. It occurred to her that smart remarks might be how he got attention.

Satine scraped at his scalp for a few moments, thinking. "It showed, in time, as I matured. She gave me her beskar'gam. She took another set, with a lesser amount of beskar. And… and she always wanted what was best for me. Even with her dedication to the True Mando'ade-it was for us- me. It was always to protect me."

"I see." He said, without much hope.

Satine pursed her lips, then nudged his shoulder. "Did you know my father wanted me to be engaged to Tal Merrik when I was four?"

"Oh?"

"Yes." Satine chuckled. "His family is from my home planet, and they were quite powerful. My father hoped to gather more political allies through the alliance, but my mother would not allow it. It was the only time I saw my mother challenge anyone to a duel. She did it right in front of Merrick family, so my father could not refuse."

"I assume she beat him."

"Oh handedly." She assured him. "Three broken ribs and two blaster burns. My mother's family would recount the tale every time we visited. My father never spoke of it again. And, here's the funny part, after seeing my father fight the Merrik's decided to look for a spouse in my mother's family. He eventually married my cousin John. They're quite happy together."

Kenobi chuckled. "That is funny."

"My father is many things, but a warrior he is not."

He had always been dedicated to the cause of the New Mando'ade above all else. In a way, she loved him for it, but it was hard.

"My mother won my right to marry for love that day."

"Do you think you will?" Kenobi asked.

She paused, her fingers tightening around the blade. "I would not waste my mother's gift." She decided. "If I do not find someone I love, I intent to adopt my ade, my children."

"I've heard of the Mandalorian-"

"Mando'ade"

"-Mando'ade culture around adoption," she grasped the sides of Kenobi's head and pushed it down for greater access to his neck. As such, his voice became rather choked, "is all of it true?"

"Yes. If not, more. We adopt freely, and often, but it is taken very seriously." Satine smiled. "Why do you think my grandmother had eighteen children?"

"Ah." His head twitched as she blew another few strands of hair away. "How many were biological.

"Why would it matter?"

"Then… then I suppose the Jedi did the same for me." Kenobi suggested. "They adopted me into their family."

Satine finished the tricky bit between the tiny bun and the brade. "Yes, but we adopt when there are no parents, or the person consents. We don't snatch babies from their cradles."

"I was two." Kenobi protested.

"Close enough." Satine sat back and tilted his head from side to side, examining her work. "I believe it's as good as this haircut will ever be."

He freed himself from her grasp, stretching his neck back and forth. He rubbed his head and grinned. "There's a rumor in the temple that Master Yoda started the haircut when he took over the order so it would be easy for him to identify the padawans from the masters in a crowd."

Satine barked a laugh not unlike a dogs. "Well," she said, voice rosy with amusement, "he sounds very wise."

Kenobi nodded seriously. "He is."

She brushed a few hairs absently off her knife, and looked down at the hair around her feet. "Be'in." She said. "I will not let my people suffer and die and do nothing."

He shuffled nervously. "Master Qui-Gon was quite clear-"

"He was clear you were to protect me." She tilted her head up. "I leave tonight. And I believe you made a promise to me as well."

He crossed his arms. The boyish shape of his face made it difficult for him to seem stern but he managed it. "I know you're eager. But another month and I'm sure he'll agree to move on."

"Are you?" She stepped forward, staring into his twinkling eyes. "Are you sure?"

He worked his jaw, then turned away. "No." He said quietly.

"And what do you think?" She demanded, leaning in farther still. "You are old enough to have your own opinion, at least."

He was quiet, then said, "I think your people need you."

"Well then." She slipped her knife up a pocket underneath her armor. "I go to the house of Ne'iod. They were allies once, and I believe I can convince them to fight with us."

She turned and walked from the cave. Kenobi silently followed behind her.

Jinn was sleeping when she arrived at the camp. She tiptoed around the cold fire, collecting her things. Kenobi sat by the unconscious body of his master and watched her pack.

After one last check, she slung her bag around her shoulders and tied a canteen to her waist. She picked up her spear and thumped it softly against the earth in front of Kenobi for a goodbye. She turned on her feet and walked away.

The forest was dark, the trees blocking most of the stars, but her helmet told her North from South. She walked towards the nearest town.

Not five minutes into her travels she heard Kenobi crashing through the bushes behind her. She turned to wait for him.

His pack was lumpy, as if he'd stuffed it in a hurry, and he'd forgotten his cloak, but they could always get another.

Satine fumbled for a pocket in the side of her pack and pulled out a knit cap she wore sometimes for warmth under her helmet. She tossed it at him. Quick as ever, he caught it middair.

"To hide your haircut." She told him.

He nodded and slipped it on. They continued on together, neither saying a word.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Qui-Gon Jinn lifted his head, staring at the spot where they had gone. He chuckled, and laid his head back down to sleep.

I see you "Satine braiding Obi-Wan's padawan braid" and raise you one "Satine giving him the whole darn haircut". ;3