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When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 17

After meeting the new government officials personally and sending them off to do their jobs, much of Satine’s time was spent with the Corruption Committee. It began with mandatory inspections, questionnaires, wage increases, and tighter import laws. At the end of every day, the Duchess found herself exhausted.

“How are you little ones,” she asked her stomach, cradling the now noticeable lump, “we’ve had quite the day haven’t we?”

A knock came at the door and Khaami got up to get it.

“It’s Hera.”

The door opened and the nurse stepped inside, hauling a large bag with her. Khaami shut the door and locked it.

“I know it may look like a lot, Your Grace,” Hera set her bag down, “but there are many tests we have yet to run.”

“Such as?”

“You may need vitamins,” Hera looked up, a bottle in each hand, “and certainly calcium pills.”

The Duchess relented and lay back against her pillows. Parna pulled down her covers.

“How have you been feeling lately?” the nurse asked, approaching Satine with a stethoscope.

“Tired mostly,” the Duchess answered, “although I have been trying to get my rest.”

Hera listened and placed her stethoscope on Satine’s stomach, waiting.

“Everything sounds good,” she smiled, “but I did bring the portable ultrasound just in case.”

As the blurry images of two blob-like shapes became vaguely recognizable as human, the Duchess swallowed hard.

“Satine?” Parna questioned.

“I haven’t called Ben in a while,” she confessed, “and I still haven’t told him.”

Hera looked up, “I take it Ben is the father?”

“Yes,” Khaami answered for Satine, “and he has quite the high-profile job.”

“Dear me,” Hera seemed to want to ask something, but then thought better of it, “I assume it’s best the less I know.”

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “but I will tell you that I love him.”

“I wouldn’t think anything else, Your Grace.”

The Duchess smiled at that, at least there were some who knew her true character.

“Just to be safe,” Hera stood, “I suggest you take vitamins and calcium pills, prenatal pills would be too risky I think.”

“I agree,” Satine nodded, “but I appreciate your help, I want my girls to be healthy.”

“I’m sure they will be.” Hera grinned.

Khaami helped the nurse to the door while Parna changed Satine into her nightdress.

“How is the status of the birth basement?” Satine asked, feeling weird even to call it that.

“Almost ready,” Khaami answered, “we have towels, blankets, numbing shots, diapers, but Oiyo still needs a new battery.”

“Perhaps Hera could be of help.” Satine suggested.

“Yes,” the Duchess nodded, “enlist her on that.”

“I am still worried about the falsified documents,” Parna confessed, “are you sure we’re untraceable?”

“Let’s begin withdrawing some of my personal funds,” Satine instructed, “we’ll pay upfront.”

Khaami stood, “I will go speak with Hera.”

Parna grabbed Satine’s comm.

“I suggest you call your Jedi.”

Satine swallowed, “I hardly know what I’ll say.”

“Conversation will flow naturally,” Parna smiled, “I can tell he cares for you.”

The Duchess nodded, grateful for her lady, then dismissed Parna.

Satine pressed a button, “Ben?”

No response.

“Obi?”

The third time, Satine succeeded.

“Hello, darling,” Obi-Wan’s voice was slightly strained, “it’s been a while.”

Satine was not fooled, “What’s happening, Obi?”

“We’re recovering after a battle.”

“Don't tell me they put you on the front lines again,” Satine frowned, “you just recovered.”

“I made for a good patient.” Obi-Wan replied.

Satine sighed, “You need your rest, Ben.”

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan swallowed, “I can't sleep when I dream of you.”

The Duchess found herself at a loss for words. Obi-Wan turned on his holo-figure and Satine could physically see his worry.

“Love?”

Satine turned her holo-figure on, “You’re such a romantic, Ben.”

Obi-Wan actually laughed at that.

“Do you know when you’ll be coming home?” Satine asked hopefully.

“Not as long as we thought I think,” Obi-Wan smiled, “I should be relieved in about two or three months.”

The Duchess’ face fell.

“Satine?”

“That’s still a long time, Obi.” she whimpered.

“I can only hope that it’ll be sooner,” the Jedi replied, “I think of you all the time.”

“You’re often on my mind as well.” Satine confessed.

“And how are politics now,” Obi-Wan asked, “any corruption arrests?”

“We’ve had a handful in the past two months,” Satine nodded, “though I still worry for my government.”

“If anyone can pull her system through this,” the jedi winked, “it's you, Satine.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Ben.”

A moment of sad silence filtered into the conversation and Satine drew in a breath.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?” The Jedi sounded concerned.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Ah yes, your medical situation?”

The way he said it, Satine wondered if he already knew.

“Ben,” tears welled in Satine’s eyes, “I was afraid, so I kept putting off telling you, but-”

“Satine,” Obi-Wan’s voice grew quiet, “are you-”

“Yes,” the Duchess sobbed, “five whole months.”

It was a long time before Obi-Wan spoke again.

“Ben, Ben, please answer me.”

“I thought you were sick,” the Jedi’s voice quivered, “I thought you were being stubborn.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Satine,” Obi-Wan suddenly dropped a mask over himself, Satine could see it through the hologram, “but are your duties overwhelming you?”

“No,” Satine shook her head, “please don’t be mad at me, Ben, I didn’t know what to do and what would happen.”

“You obviously want to keep the baby-”

“Obi-”

“So who will raise it?”

“Them,” Satine corrected, “twin girls.”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“And there’s another thing,” Satine bit her lip, “I’ve been lying to you for nearly eighteen years.”

The Jedi’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“Ben,” the Duchess swallowed, “there are other children.”

Obi-Wan froze, his mouth half-open in shock.

“Four others.”

“You’ve lied to me,” Obi-Wan repeated, “for this long?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

It came out as a whisper, that’s what broke Satine.

“My enemies would’ve claimed I wasn’t Mandalorian and they would've never accepted you as my spouse. And now, I fear they’ll call me a Republic Sympathizer and a hypocrite.”

“You are,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “you can’t promote neutrality if you have ties to one side.”

“Padme knows,” Satine argued, “and she’s been ever so helpful.”

Obi-Wan leaned back in shock, “Anakin knows, and Quinlan too.”

“They’ve met the children, they knew immediately.”

The Jedi was mad. Satine could see it.

“I have children, six children,” he asked, “and yet I was the last one to know.”

“Ben-”

Obi-Wan was aghast, “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to compromise your morals.” Satine frowned.

“Morals? Morals! Satine, these are my children!”

“Being a Jedi means everything to you, Obi,” Satine sighed, “I fell in love with the chivalrous knight in you, you would’ve been a completely different person had you left the Order because of me.”

“So you thought about it,” Obi-Wan was suddenly far away, “you thought about saying the word?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t.”

Satine swallowed, she didn’t know how to respond.

Obi-Wan scoffed, “Do you even love me?”

“Ben-”

“No, Satine,” Obi-Wan’s rage finally boiled over, “you made a decision without me, one that affected both of us, and you made the wrong choice.”

“Obi-Wan-”

“You lied to me,” growled the Jedi, tears in his eyes, “I could’ve been a father.”

“You are a father.”

Obi-Wan went silent.

“Do the children know.”

“Yes, I’ll ask if they’d meet with you.”

“I should’ve known them their whole lives,” Obi-Wan balled his fists, “and now I have to meet them like some stranger.”

“Ben-”

“Don’t call me that!”

Satine grew stiff, “Forgive me, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“I won’t contact you until I’ve returned, Duchess, and then it will only be to meet my children.”

He hung up. He hung up on her. Satine screamed.

”Your Grace!”

The door burst open, Jaym and Gorg came in, their eyes widened when they came to rest on her stomach.”

“Get my ladies, Jaym,” the Duchess ordered, “and Gorg, go to the Med Ward and ask for Nurse Hera.”

The guards bowed, shutting the door behind them. As soon as the door slammed, Satine burst into tears. Throwing herself back on her mattress, the Duchess pounded her fists on the bed until her cohort arrived.

“Satine,” Khaami gasped, trying to restrain her, “you’re going to be alright.”

“Please,” Parna grabbed Satine’s thrashing legs, “I’m sure he didn’t mean whatever he said.”

Hera began calmly singing to Satine in Mando’a, gently rubbing her thumb on Satine’s palm.

“He said,” the Duchess gasped, “he said he wanted nothing to do with me.”

Parna sighed, “Satine, I think he’s just mad.”

“I had no choice,” the Duchess yelled, “it had to be a secret!”

“Sh,” Khaami brushed Satine’s hair from her eyes, “all will be well.”

“How do you know that?” Satine accused.

Khaami explained, “He’s always been very devoted to you-”

“And when he met you again,” Parna added, “the spark rekindled.”

“You are the mother of his children, Your Grace,” Hera handed Satine a tissue, “you two are bound for life.”

That brought tears to Satine’s eyes, “Ben doesn’t say things lightly.”

“But what did he say exactly?” Parna asked.

“He said the next time he contacted me,” Satine sniffed, “would be only to meet the children.”

A silence fell.

“Well,” Hera handed Satine another tissue, “you have some time right?”

“When I was eighteen I bore him twins,” Satine confessed, “And at twenty I did so again.”

Hera was aghast.

“How-”

“My ladies and a medical droid,” Satine explained, looking to Khaami, “Khaami was there.”

The lady nodded, “Her Grace was very strong.”

“But,” Hera stuttered, “but the birth certificates?”

“We have the real ones,” Parna answered, “they’re hidden.”

There were many things Hera could’ve said or done at that moment, this, Satine was certain of, but what the nurse said was kind.

“I’m so sorry, Satine.”

With a sigh, the Duchess lay back down.

“Let me just check your heartbeat,” Hera stood, going to her bag, “just in case.”

Everything was physically fine with her, but Satine knew Jaym and Gorg would need answers.

“My guards,” Satine turned to Khaami, “have them come in, Hera will stand guard.”

Gorg and Jaym were shocked, so shocked, in fact, that they’re eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when they did a double take of their Duchess.

“Did,” Gorg stuttered, “is this because-”

Jaym was much less confused, “It was the Jedi, wasn’t it?”

“No one can know,” Satine stated firmly, “I will allow no jokes, no snide comments, and certainly no illusions to my romantic acquaintances. Do you understand?”

The guards looked at each other.

“Do you understand?” Satine repeated.

The guards saluted, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Now,” Satine straightened, “I want you to grant Master Kenobi’s personal shuttle access to all of Mandalorian space.”

“Kenobi,” Jaym’s eyes went wide, “I told you it was Kenobi!”

“Kriffing Kenobi,” Gorg gasped, “the Jedi poster boy?”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “What did I just say?”

Jaym swallowed, “No jokes, snide comments, or romantic allusions of any kind.”

“Correct.”

Gorg sighed before he bowed, “We shall do as Your Grace has ordered.”

Satine’s gaze softened, “Thank you.”

Hera came in as the guards left and collected her bag.

“Sleep well, Satine,” she instructed, “you need your rest.”

“I will.”

Parna said nothing, but hugged the Duchess instead.

“Thank you.” Satine whispered.

“We’re right down the hall if you need anything.” Khaami reiterated.

Satine nodded, and then she was left with her feelings. After an hour, she realized she couldn’t sleep and grabbed her comm. She sent the same message to Mara, Tristan, Tyra (who now had a comm of her own), and Korkie. They likely wouldn’t see it till the morning, but Satine needed it off her conscious that she wasn’t hiding her children from their father.

The Duchess hardly slept at all that night. Some time around 2:30 her body crashed and her eyes refused to open, but she didn’t feel refreshed in the morning when Khaami gently nudged her.

“We let you sleep a little later,” she began, “but there is an urgent matter the council needs you for.”

Groaning, Satine rolled over. She could hear Parna in her closet pulling out clothes.

“Please, Your Grace,” Khaami continued, “it’s about the war.”

“I hate war.” Satine whined, sitting up.

“That’s a good girl,” Khaami rubbed Satine’s back, “now let’s get you ready, you have a big day ahead.”

The corset was painful, as it generally was, but it made the Duchess sit straighter in her throne. She was facing the ruling council and some of the clan heads that lived nearby. Satine felt that her usual uniform of purple and blue was too plain for such a gathering.

The new Prime Minister was actually an old one, Jaru Djarin had never liked Almec, he’d always rubbed her the wrong way. So after his four years were up, Jaru ran against him. Due to obvious reasons, she won.

“Do forgive us for meeting early, Your Grace,” the Prime Minister began, “but the head of the Trade Federation contacted me and specifically expressed displeasure in our situation. He would like to meet and discuss new terms.”

Satine smiled, “This is a good reason for meeting early.”

That was met with a few chuckles.

“We shall most graciously accept the Trade Master’s visit,” Satine decided, “did he give any dates that he’s available?”

And so it was decided, the Trade Master would be arriving in three days. There was much to do. Waldie and her seamstresses worked late to add stiff linings into many of Satine’s dresses. Though none knew why. Satine oversaw the menu and preparations for public appearances. It was also decided that the Trade Master and his delegation would be housed down the hall from Satine, Parna and Khaami would sleep in Satine’s parlor. The Duchess also made a friendly call to her dearest acquaintance, Senator Amidala of Naboo, who had much to say on the Trade Federation and their past dealings.

“Interesting,” Satine nodded, “thank you for your help, Padme.”

“Of course, oh,” Padme paused, “and congratulations.”

“What for?” Satine asked.

“Obi-Wan is being traded for Master Fisto in two months,” Padme suddenly became worried, “I thought you knew.”

A heartbeat passed.

“When did he find out?”

“Anakin mentioned it yesterday afternoon,” the Senator gasped, “Satine, did you and Obi-Wan get in a fight?”

“I told him about the children,” Satine confessed, “and naturally he’s not happy.”

Padme sighed, “I’m sorry, Satine.”

“It’s good to know,” the Duchess tried not to sound hurt, “if he chooses he might attend the birth.”

“He might.” agreed Padme.

After a moment of still silence, Satine thanked Padme for her call and hung up. She cried for a little bit, then went to try on her refurbished dresses.

“These are quite snug.” observed one of the seamstresses.

“They should be,” Waldie replied, “that’s how Her Grace likes it.”

“But Lady Waldie,” another seamstress took out a measuring tape, “these dresses shouldn’t be tight.”

Waldie glanced at Satine, “I don’t see how we did something wrong if Her Grace enjoys the dresses.”

“I do,” Satine said earnestly, “that’s why I ask you to touch them up so often.”

“Work on dresses for the Ladies Khaami and Parna,” Waldie instructed, “I will finish the Duchess’ dress.”

Satine nodded, grateful to the seamstress.

“There are rumors, Your Grace,” Waldie whispered, “that you are expecting.”

The Duchess frowned, “I should start leaving trails of fake blood everywhere.”

Waldie snorted, “I suggest you allow the Duke of Sundari to understudy your work with the Trade Master.”

“It will set everyone straight.” Satine agreed.

Parna giggled and the Duchess turned her head.

“I feel like a princess.” the Lady twirled.

Satine’s mind went to her daughters, the nearly grown ones, they should be princesses. A wave of sadness flowed over the Duchess, she wished her children could be where they should be, could claim their birthrights. Unfortunately, if anyone found out about their father…

“Duchess?”

Satine looked up, “Hm?”

“Your advisors are looking for you.”

“Ah, yes,” Satine straightened, “the security for public appearances.”

Gorg and Jaym were Satine’s top protectors, to be with her always. Now that they knew, it was important that she keep them close to her if they had any questions, or if she was kidnapped. Satine tried not to think about the latter.

“Hello?”

“Hi Headmistress Gren,” Satine smiled even though the woman couldn’t see her, “this is the Duchess Satine.”

“It’s good to hear from you, Your Grace,” the headmistress pleasantly intoned, “your nephew has been doing very well in his classes.”

“That’s good to hear,” Satine’s pride decided, “speaking of which, can Korkie be excused for the next three days, I would like him to be here for the Trade Master’s visit.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” the headmistress agreed, “I always enjoy it when a student gets government experience.”

Satine thanked the headmistress for her time and asked if Korkie could be sent home early.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Headmistress Gren appraised, “you should see him within the hour.”

“Thank you.”

The Duchess smiled to herself, Korkie disliked his fittings, this would be fun. The Duke of Sundari groaned when they approached the sewing rooms.

“Lady Mother,” he whispered, quite agitated, “I can’t stand still for that long.”

“It’ll be quick,” Satine assured, “and if you’re good, you can help me taste the deserts.”

Korkie glowed, “Wonderful.”

In the meantime, Satine instructed Parna to fetch a jar of blueberries and a knife from the kitchen while she and Khaami looked for excess hair brushes.

“Why are we doing this again?” Parna asked.

“To quell the maid’s suspicions,” Satine answered, “I’ve heard they’re worried about the lack of bloody material in my trash cans and laundry.”

Parna grinned, “So we’re going to make fake blood.”

“Blueberries were an excellent choice, Your Grace,” Khaami winked, “how clever you are!”

Satine laughed, “I feel like we’re ancient witches mixing a potion.”

Parna snorted. Khaami grabbed a bowl.

“Okay,” the lady began, “put a bunch of blueberries into this bowl and smash them.”

Satine giggled like a little girl as she took her hairbrush and smashed the blueberries.

“We need to make sure this is thick enough,”Parna added, “how do we do that?”

Khaami grinned, “My mother-in-law once thickened strawberry compote with cornstarch and water, I bet that would work as well.”

Satine nodded, “Get some.”

They finished smashing the blueberries as Khaami returned.

“Let’s strain the liquid from the berries,” Parna suggested, turning to Satine, “I’ll hold the bowl if you hold your hands out.”

And so they did, it was messy and fun, Satine even got to lick the leftover berry juice from her hands.

“How proper, Satine.” Parna teased.

Then Khaami added cornstarch to the mixture and filled the jar a quarter full of water.

“Now,” Khaami smiled wickedly, “we drop some of our berries into the mixture.”

Once their job was done, the women conferred and decided their potion needed to be redder.

“We could put some of my blood in.” Satine suggested.

Parna frowned.

“It would have to be somewhere hidden by your dress,” Khaami agreed, “perhaps your leg?”

So a small slit was made in the Duchess’ leg and added to the foul solution.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll put some on your sheets,” Parna decided, “and some on the back of your nightgown.”

Satine giggled, “That will be fun.”

After cleaning up, the Duchess took the Duke of Sundari down to the kitchens, where they would taste desserts. Korkie was smiling so bright Satine was beginning to wonder if he already had eaten some chocolate.

“Lady,” the Duke burst, “Lady Aunt?”

“Yes?” Satine took a bite of her macaroon.

“I think I have a girlfriend.”

Satine began to cough. Korkie laughed.

“Remember when those exchange students from Cerea came?”

“She’s Cerean?” Satine asked.

“Yes, she likes to draw and we traded numbers,” Korkie said excitedly, “and we’ve been talking ever since.”

“That was two months ago!”

Korkie looked down, shy, “She just asked me to be her boyfriend.”

“Korkyrach Kryze!”

The Duke flinched at the Duchess’ giddy tone.

“Tell me her name!”

“Kara Adi.”

“Pretty,” Satine remarked, “surname?”

“Mundi.”

The Duchess paused for a moment, that name rang a bell.

Satine gasped, “I know her mother, Shea, she was the Cerean representative on trade many years ago!”

“Yeah,” Korkie nodded, “her mother’s retired now.”

The Duchess could not be more pleased.

“So,” Korkie took a bite of cake, “what’s new in your life, Auntie?”

#Duchess Satine #satine x obiwan #satine kryze #obitiine #obi wan kenobi #obiwan #korkie kenobi #korkie kryze

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