Chapter Text
“Satine, stop!”
Qui-Gon looked up from his datapad just in time to see the Duchess breeze through the main hold on her way to her quarters, a very distraught-looking Obi-Wan on her heels.
“Please,” the younger man pleaded, his voice strained “I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong!”
Satine simply huffed and continued her rushing strides, not so much as looking back at him as the young Jedi came to a stop, letting her walk away from him as he stood confused and discouraged in the lounge.
“Trouble in paradise, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asked, a wry smile on his bearded face.
Obi-Wan groaned, his hands balled in loose fists at his side as his head rolled back in frustration, his eyes closed. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his apprentice's exasperation. He had expected the constant bickering between his two young companions to stop once their relationship was out in the open, but time and time again they had proved him wrong. Most of the time it just seemed like flirting, but this? This seemed different.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand women,” Obi-Wan said finally, righting his head and shaking it slightly, his eyes opening slowly as if from a deep sleep. Listlessly he moved across the room, plopping himself down in a seat across from his Master with a loud sigh, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
“Ah, yes, a tale as old as time” Qui-Gon mused, “tell me what happened, maybe I can help.”
“I’m not even sure we’re fighting,” his Padawan said looking up from the floor, but not meeting his gaze, “I can tell something is wrong, but she keeps insisting she’s fine, but I know she’s not fine because I can feel it, but I have no idea how to help because she won't just tell me what’s wrong!” He was stymied, gesticulating with his hands as he explained, more animated than usual as he expressed his frustration, his muscles wound tight like a top. Qui-Gon remained quiet, nodding, urging the young man to continue, laying a pensive hand over his mouth to hide the amused smile he wore. “Then she just blew up, out of nowhere, told me to leave her alone.”
“And did you,” Qui-Gon asked knowingly, “leave her alone?
“I just told her that it might be in everyone’s interest if she learned to meditate, that it might help her to calm down.”
Qui-Gon winced and hissed a small sound of disapproval through his teeth, surely he’d taught the boy better than that, “there’s your mistake, well, one of them at least,” he said, trying not to be too harsh on the young man, “I don’t recommend ever telling a woman to calm down, it’s almost guaranteed to makes things worse.”
“She was yelling at me for trying to help!”
“Were you really trying to help?” Qui-Gon asked, giving his Padawan a skeptical look.
“Of course I was!”
“Did she ask for your help?”
“Well, no, but—,”
“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said calmly, stopping his Padawan before he spiraled farther, “Satine has gone through so much in the past months, don't forget, she’s lost most of her family, her home, I think you may need to give her a little space, she will tell you what’s bothering her when she’s ready.”
“I know, you’re right, I just— I hate feeling her like this,” Obi-Wan said, genuine pain in his voice, “I’m used to her being bright and strong, it’s hard to reconcile that with how she’s feeling today, small and helpless.”
“We can’t all be bright and strong all the time, you know that,” Qui-Gon said, leaning forward in his chair, “was she chasing you down for answers in the weeks after your injury?”
“No,” Obi-Wan replied in a small voice, his eyes on the floor, clearly understanding what his Master was trying to tell him, “she let me come to her.”
“Why don’t you go for a walk?” Qui-Gon said finally, not wanting to belabor the point, “a perimeter check, the evening winds made a few of the sensors flicker last night, I was planning to check them myself but—.”
“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan said with a respectful nod. He couldn’t say he was sorry to be rid of the task, the rough arid terrain of the moon they were hiding on was less than kind to his increasingly aching knees. His apprentice stood from his slumped seat and began to move across the hold as if to set out immediately, but Qui-Gon crooked his eyebrow as the young man stalled in the doorway. “I— I don’t want her to think I just left,” he said quietly, looking at the ground.
Qui-Gon nodded sympathetically, bringing his hand to his chin. “Knock on her door, but if she tells you to leave, you have to listen,” he said, watching as his Padawan nodded, “if she opens the door, do not go in and do not ask how she’s feeling, in fact, don’t ask any questions, just tell her that you’ll be gone for a few hours and you wanted to keep her informed,” he suddenly realized the advice he was giving was eerily close to how he dealt with Obi-Wan when his apprentice was in a difficult mood.
Let him walk away. Give him as much space as possible. Leave if you can, but let him know first. Don’t ask any questions. Don’t try to apologize (yet). When in doubt, sweets usually help.
“Wait!” Qui-Gon exclaimed, remembering something. He stood up and hurried to the galley, ignoring the confused look on his apprentice’s face as he opened a high cupboard and reached far back on the top shelf, pulling down a small purple box. “Give her these,” he said, handing the box to his Padawan, “you can say they’re from you.”
“Chocolates?” Obi-Wan asked, his brow wrinkled, one eyebrow raised.
“They’re her favorite,” Qui-Gon said, suddenly realizing he might be helping a little too much, “l asked the Republic to include some in the resupply, thought it might be a nice surprise.”
Obi-Wan looked down at the small box, then back at Qui-Gon, “how did you know they were her favorite?” He asked quietly.
“I asked,” Qui-Gon replied plainly, studying his apprentice's reaction, “back in the beginning, I didn’t know how to talk to her, how to help, so I asked questions.”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan said quietly, his cheeks flushed, hanging his head and looking at the ground, “thank you, Master, I’ll be back in a few hours.”
With a respectful nod, the young man turned, one arm tucked behind his back, the small purple box held tightly in his hand as he walked back into the ship in search of the Duchess. Qui-Gon listened carefully, half expecting to hear screaming, but when he heard her door open then close 2 minutes later without any raised voices, he couldn’t help but smile to himself, maybe this won’t be so hard after all.
*
Satine lay in her bed, her eyes shut tight as if trying to rest, but sleep was lightyears away. She tried so hard to push the horrid thoughts from her mind, the sinking feeling growing in her stomach as she thought about the war on Mandalore, about the friends she couldn’t be sure were safe, about her parents, about what would happen when this was all over. Some days were harder than others, and though Obi-Wan was usually exactly what she needed, today even he couldn’t cut through her malaise.
The chocolates had helped a bit, the box open and half eaten on her bed, taking comfort in a familiar pleasure, but the bittersweet treat reminded her so much of home.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound was faint, as if not to disturb her, had she fallen asleep. Opening her eyes she looked at the door, half expecting Obi-Wan to come waltzing in before realizing he wasn’t due back for at least another hour. Slowly she got to her feet, adjusting the lily-shaped hairpin that had fallen out of her hair, and pressed the door controls, looking up to find Qui-Gon standing in front of her.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Your Grace,” he said quietly, his eyes warm and kind.
“Not at all,” she replied with a small smile that felt wrong on her lips, “what can I do for you?” Satine felt a bit awkward, out of place as they stood there. She hadn’t been alone with Qui-Gon since everything between her and Obi-Wan had come to light, and she hadn’t been looking forward to it, meals together had been painful enough. It had suddenly gone from feeling like he was a wise older friend, an advisor even, to feeling like she was sleeping with his son, it was weird, she hadn’t quite adjusted to the change.
“There is something I’d like to share with you,” he said softly, “in the cockpit if you’re feeling up to it.”
Satine looked at him for a few moments, not feeling up to much of anything, but in the end, her curiosity got the better of her, “of course,” she said lightly with a nod. He smiled in return and turned away, leading her down the long corridor towards the front of the ship. “Thank you for the chocolates by the way,” she said as they walked.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he lied as they moved through the main hold, continuing onto the cockpit.
“He told me they were from you,” she said, a small smile breaking across her lips, “said he ‘couldn’t take credit where none was due.’”
Qui-Gon laughed lightly, shaking his head, “sometimes I think he may be too good.”
“Even when he’s actively breaking rules?” She asked before she was able to stop the words, dropping her head and blushing slightly.
An amused chuckle came from the older Jedi, “yes, even then.”
Qui-Gon moved to stand in front of the pilot’s chair and motioned for her to take the seat next to him. Slowly she moved through the cockpit, sinking down into the chair with her hands folded in her lap, only once she was sitting did the Master take his seat.
“For as diligent as he is, sometimes my Padawan forgets to stop transmitting through his commlink,” Qui-Gon began, smiling kindly. Satine’s eyes went wide, suddenly worried that Obi-Wan may have left it on when they were together. Qui-Gon’s expression changed, clearly realizing what she must be thinking, “oh, no, he’s never left it on with—, I would never listen in if you were present, Your Grace.” Satine’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as he tried to reassure her. An awkward silence stretched between them for a few moments before he continued.
“As I was saying,” he said, clearing his throat, “most of the time it’s just rustling sounds, but on rare occasions, I’ve been treated to something truly magnificent, and it seems today is one such occasion.” With a smile that Satine didn’t quite understand, Qui-Gon turned away from her, swiveling in his chair to face the ship’s dashboard and leaning forward to press down on a small green button.
Music filled the cabin, the beautiful sound of a song she didn’t know in a language she didn’t understand. The voice was full and stunning, singing with a passion that nearly knocked her from her seat. She looked over at Qui-Gon to find a wide, pleased smile on his face. “Is that…” she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
Qui-Gon nodded, “that’s our Obi-Wan,” he said fondly.
Satine brought her fingertips to her lips, her breath caught hopelessly in her throat as she listened to him sing, his sweet impassioned song bewitching her heart like a spell. Butterflies built a hurricane in her stomach as she took it all in, her mind wandering places it shouldn’t, things she wished she could hear him sing, her clan’s anthem, Mando’a folk songs, lullabies.
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her cheeks pinked with longing, the shocked expression still on her face.
“I was baffled the first time I heard it,” Qui-Gon remembered, “I thought he was listening to music somehow, it wasn’t until the third song that I realized it was him.”
“Does he have any idea that you know?” She asked, her breath beginning to settle, his song still playing in her ears.
“I don’t think so,” he replied, shaking his head, “I’ve never mentioned it, I’m too worried it would cause him to stop, and that would be an absolute tragedy. So I just wait for a moment like this, and admire his talent from afar.”
Satine nodded, turning her chair forward to look out the front windscreen, closing her eyes and resting her head back, allowing his voice to wash over her, coating her skin like honey, sweet and stunning. Every time she thought she knew him, he turned around and proved her wrong, she wondered if he would ever run out of surprises.
The Master and the Duchess sat like that for a long time, listening to Obi-Wan sing through song after song, none she recognized, each equally as beautiful as the last, his voice loud and lilting like a bird, full of heart and something like longing.
“You know, he and I didn’t get along at first either,” Qui-Gon said softly, not looking over at her, his gaze fixed on the erred landscape out the windscreen. Obi-Wan had mentioned his difficult start with Qui-Gon, how it had taken them years to fall into sink, how his Master had considered ending their partnership, and how badly that scar still hurt.
“He really grows on you,” Satine whispered, surprised at her lack of voice, a large painful lump caught in her throat.
“He does.”
Several more minutes passed before Satine found the courage to speak again, her mouth dry, the lump in her throat still making it hard to swallow. She knew why Obi-Wan couldn’t be the one to help her, that when she thought about the horrors back home, she also thought about them ending, and what that would mean for her and her Jedi. She knew it would be easier for him. She knew she wasn’t ready. She knew she needed to talk about it, and she knew Qui-Gon would listen.
“I think it’s going to be very difficult for me to lose him,” she said, her voice quiet but strong. To lose him. Like he was something she’d misplaced. Like he was hers to lose.
Qui-Gon said nothing, just sat as he was with his eyes facing forward, giving her the space necessary to say what she needed to say. “It sounds like things back home might be getting better, like the tides might be turning, and of course, I want this horrible war to end more than anything but—,” her mind was racing, jumping from hidden thought to buried feeling faster than she could keep up.
“I know it’s crazy to think that this is anything other than happenstance, an attraction of convenience but sometimes it feels like—, like we were supposed to find each other,” her voice was breaking, her throat growing sore as she fought against her emotions, just needing to get it all out, “I keep telling myself that it’s a distraction, that we’re just having fun, but it’s more than that,” she was holding back tears now, Obi-Wan’s beautiful voice still ringing in her ears, “at least to me, it’s so much more than that.”
Satine forced her eyes shut, breathing deep and choking back the tears before they fell. She didn’t know if she felt better or worse, her heart spilled out on the cold metal floor beneath her. She felt horrible for wanting more time with him, but she couldn’t deny the way her stomach turned whenever she thought about saying goodbye. He’d gotten under her skin, and she didn’t know how to let go.
“I believe it means more to him, too,” Qui-Gon said finally after a long silence, “I’m just not sure he realizes how much.”
A deep, ragged breath shook her body at his words, she wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure she could. “What makes you say that?” Satine asked, swallowing down the bolder in her throat, her eyes opening slowly, the tears banished from her sight.
“They’re all love songs,” he whispered, “every one of them.”
*
Obi-Wan bounded up the ramp into the ship, feeling refreshed from his walk. He’d been able to clear his head, to get out some pent-up energy and emotion, releasing things he hadn’t realized was holding on to. He wanted to find Satine, to apologize for being so forceful earlier, but he knew that Qui-Gon had been right, that he needed to let her come to him.
Laughter seemed to ring through the ship as he entered the cargo hold, two joyous voices echoing off the metal walls. He walked on silent feet until he was peering into the cockpit, his Master and his Duchess, each sitting in a chair, facing the other and laughing.
“For him, it’s always something tart,” Qui-Gon said, “there’s a tin of sour candies hidden in the galley, I’ll show you where they are in case you ever need to pull him out of a mood.”
“Good to know,” Satine laughed, her wide smile making his heart skip.
“What are you two laughing about?” Obi-Wan asked, stepping into the cockpit.
“You,” they replied in unison, turning to look at him, before beginning to giggle again.
“Oh, I do not like this at all,” he said grimly, looking back and forth between them, realizing he much preferred it when they weren’t talking. The things Qui-Gon could tell her, just the thought made him cringe.
“Too bad,” Satine said brightly, “you got us caught, so now I have to talk with him.” The smile on her face seemed to sparkle, it was the first time she’d joked about the change in their dynamic, and he couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped his lungs. Her eyes were locked on his, her gaze fond and welcoming.
“Everything look good out there?” Qui-Gon asked, pulling his attention away from Satine.
“Yes, Master,” he replied, “I re-enforced a few of the sensors, we shouldn’t have any issue with the wind tonight.”
“Very good,” Qui-Gon nodded, swiveling his chair away and turning to face the dashboard.
Obi-Wan looked back at Satine to find her eyes still on him, that sweet smile still curling her lips. “Satine,” he said softly, “could I— have a word?” The request came out weaker than he’d intended, but he exhaled with relief when she nodded, standing from her chair and grabbing his hand gently as she led him out of the cockpit. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if Qui-Gon watched them leave, he didn’t look back.
Entering Satine’s quarters he suddenly felt quite hot, nervous, like maybe he should have rehearsed what he wanted to say. Moving the open box of chocolates over slightly, she sat down on her bed, patting the mattress next to her. He wrinkled his brow, feeling like it should have been him making that gesture, but without much hesitation, he sunk down beside her.
“I want to apologize for pushing you earlier,” he said clearly, looking at their hands as he laced his fingers between hers, then looking up into her shining blue eyes, “I was being selfish, wanting you to feel better because it would make me feel better, not because I genuinely wanted to help, and I’m sorry.”
Satine squeezed his hand, a sweet understanding smile on her perfect pink lips. His heart pounded in his chest as he considered everything he wanted to say. “I have something for you,” he blurted out, not wanting to overthink it. Her face lit up, curiosity in her eyes, her mouth in an open smile. “Don’t get too excited, Your Highness, it’s not as fun as chocolates,” Obi-Wan warned with a nervous grin, reaching into his pocket and pulling the small object out and placing it in her palm.
It was a small pale, translucent rock, flat and polished with tiny shimmering veins of green weaving over the surface like vines on a tree. It was pretty, for a rock, but it wasn’t anything of real value. Satine looked at it inquisitively for a long moment, running her thumb over the surface. “It’s so smooth,” she said with a pleased smile, “did you find it out there today?” His heart leaped as he felt a small wave of excitement and joy pulse from her. It was just a rock, and she was looking at him like he’d gone to the jewelers. Well, it wasn’t just a rock.
“It’s from Willichto,” he whispered, watching as her eyes went wide, her breath caught in her throat, and the smile transformed to a shocked stare, “from the waterfall. I’ve almost given it to you a few times but I always just felt so foolish,” he shook his head, glancing down at the stone for a moment, remembering how that stupid rock had felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket the night he’d built a picnic by the fire. He’d backed out, too nervous about everything else to worry about a pebble. He had almost dropped it right in front of her the next morning while searching frantically for his commlink, which only made his anxiety spike higher. He looked back at her, watching as she wet her lips, “now I wonder if somehow I knew I would need it.” Satine’s eyebrows pinched, cocking her head to one side and encouraging him to continue.
“After my injury, when we were constantly moving, there were times I felt— lost, hopeless. I had convinced myself I’d failed you, so leaning on you only made me feel worse,” he looked down at the rock, sliding his hand, palm up, beneath hers, “I would pull this silly rock out of my pocket and just hold it, notice how it felt in my hand, the weight of it, the texture, how it felt in the Force,” slowly the stone lifted out of her hand, hovering just a few millimeters above her palm and spinning gently, as if Satine was the one manipulating it, “I would think about that day and how connected I felt to everything around me, how you made me feel so strong and powerful.” Obi-Wan looked up at her, listening to her heartbeat, feeling her soft, comforting energy surrounding him as she stared, transfixed at the rock, spinning in mid-air before her.
“Of course, It didn’t actually fix anything,” he whispered, ”I needed you for that,” Satine looked back up at him, her pink lips parted and her eyes glassy, “but it helped. Maybe it can help you, too.”
For several moments she just looked at him with her eyes wide and shining, Force sparking around them like static. Without a word, Satine lifted her hand, snatching the stone out of the air, and threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck, bowling him backward onto the bed, sending chocolates flying. He surrendered to her will, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her more fully onto the bed, their legs weaving together as he held her.
“Thank you,” Satine hummed, her voice muffled from where she nuzzled into the crook of his neck. He released his hold on her when he felt her pulling back, watching with an amused smile as she leaned up onto her knees, sitting back on her feet, one leg between his, the other outside his hip. She held her hands to her chest as if hugging the stone to her heart, with a wide pleased smile on her mouth. “I love it,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.
Both of them held their breath for a moment, but neither of them acknowledged the word, love, as it hung in the air. Pushing a needling question to the back of his mind, he pulled her down onto the bed, wrapping her back in his arms. He wanted to know everything about her, and there would be time for asking questions later, right now he just wanted her to feel safe and cared for. He placed a kiss to her temple instead of her lips like he longed to, wanting her to know she could come to him for more than just sex.
It meant more to him than that. So much more.