WHO: Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi WHEN: 4 hours after Satine arrived WHERE: Medbay to the elevator WHAT: Reunion! TRIGGERS: Talk of character death and injury.
______________
The ship went down, and she was nearly killed by debris. Once again, Obi-Wan saved her. He always seemed to save her, even when he wasn't supposed to. The Republic had refused help, but Obi-Wan came against his orders. She knew why; he knew why. Neither of them would ever say it though. They couldn't, not without asking too much of the other.
Humiliation was only the beginning of her pain, on her knees next to Maul at her throne. They dragged Obi-Wan into the throne room, threw him at Maul's feet, and then she was in the air, choked by invisible hands. They tightened and ebbed, depending on his mood as he spoke, and all Satine could think was for him to be the hero he always was. Never turn to the Dark Side, not even for her. Especially not for her.
"...the perfect tool for my vengeance is in front of us. I never planned on killing you…"
She struggled. Despite her pacifism, she was not one to lie down and let herself be killed. She pulled against the invisible hands and tried to speak when she could. Her words might be useless on Maul, but on Obi-Wan, it was all they had.
The Darksaber was ignited, the guards knocked Obi-Wan down, and suddenly she woke up in a quarantine room. While it wasn't like the medical rooms on Sundari or even in Coruscant, she could recognize the smell of sterilization. She'd been informed of the shot, given a pamphlet, and freedom around the cell.
When the droids were gone, she made her way into the refresher. The purple bruises on her neck reminded her of those last moments. Even the slightest brush of her fingers sent a dull flare of pain. How had she survived? She was certain that Maul intended to kill her to leave Obi-Wan in pain.
The pamphlet and network provided some answers: she didn't survive, she'd just been taken from her point in time. It seemed inconceivable that such a thing could be possible, and yet here she was in unfamiliar territory. She wished she had her deactivator. She wished … that she had hope.
When her time was up, they droids were personable, friendly, and kind as they allowed her to exit. They told her the room number she'd been assigned, had given her a band of some sort that would unlock the door and pay for things on the ship. Droids didn't have feelings, but she was never the less kind in return.
Outside the medbay, she knew that Obi-Wan would be waiting. What would he think of her? He must see her as he always had: strong, stalwart, and unwavering. She squared her shoulders, her neck aching at the movement of straightening her back and pushed the doors open.
It hadn't been long before that Obi-Wan himself had vacated the medbay doors. His own arrival had been just hours before Satine's and one thing after another kept coming towards him. There'd been the presence of many he hadn't felt since the end of the Clone Wars or beyond. Anakin, as he was meant to remain in Obi-Wan's memory (opposed to the machine that he'd been turned into following Obi-Wan's inability to put an end to Vader's life). Ahsoka, whom he'd been out of touch with for some time and been unable to reach out for across the galaxy following his exile. Qui-Gon, whom he'd only just begun to try to reach through the Neitherlands. Padme, alive and well and evidently fully aware of her fate.
Obi-Wan spent the hours facing ghost after ghost and each, in their own way, was preparing him for the moment ahead when he first saw Satine's message come across the holonet like device. Up until Satine, his emotions were steeling themselves, making him numb to the raw pain that was once again exposed. But with the sight of Satine? He could no longer joke. He could no longer manage pleasantries. His mind was back to all those years before, when he'd defied the wishes of the Republic and the Council, determined to aid Satine as he'd always done before.
And how he'd been unable to do so.
Standing outside the medbay, with arms behind his back and hand resting in hand, he stood with his eyes focused upon the medbay door. And when it opened, they fell upon her, and he couldn't prevent himself from the smallest of smiles; though his eyes looked tired as though the years had taken toll upon him.
The smile evaporated, however, upon seeing the purple shade of bruises along her skin. It was only logical, with what she had been forced to endure in the moments just before her death, but it still unnerved him, if only for a moment.
Moving towards her, he spoke her name, "Satine," in greeting.
He looked so much older. Perhaps not in the ways that most people would recognize — grey hair, wrinkles — but in all the ways that mattered to her. His eyes had the look of someone who had been beaten down, over and over again, and his shoulders strained under the great weight. They were subtle things that only someone who studied him as intently as she had over the years could tell.
Like him, she started with what would pass for a fond, though regal enough, smile for him. Satine had every intention of remaining exactly as he remembered her. Calm under stress, witty, smart-mouthed, sarcastic. She'd even prepped a few things to say that might break the ice.
Seeing his distress, however subtle he thought he was, lowered her defenses, and the façade of the ever indomitable Duchess Satine of Mandalore collapsed just enough to allow her feet to swiftly close the distance between them. It reminded her of the moment he stepped into her cell. The relief at seeing him was so great that she had flung herself at him then too. Satine threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. Her voice came out a hoarse croak. "I'm so glad to see you, Obi-Wan."
There was a stillness that was met in the initial moment of Satine propelling herself into his arms. Having lacked much of human contact for well over a year now, it wa difficult to describe just how it made Obi-Wan feel. But the moment passed, and unlike the last time Satine had embraced him, he didn't clear his throat and awkwardly try to pull away; even against his own desires. No, this time, his arms folded around her and he held the embrace willingly.
He didn't know the proper thing to say in this moment. It felt cruel to state the obvious, of how he'd thought he'd never seen her again. That was true for many that he'd come in contact with over the past day.
"As am I, Satine," he replied, intent on keeping his voice steady and clear of the emotions that had been threatening to take hold of him all day.
The shock of still being alive, of somehow escaping Maul's clutches hadn't dimmed yet; everything seemed surreal and muted, even the colors of his beard and the elevators near them. It took her a few instants to understand that he hadn't pulled away, and that was more telling that any look in his eyes the state of him.
"Your heart is beating loudly, Ben." She used the name she'd given him when they were on the run from bounty hunters. She'd liked the sound of it then, and it suited him. It had been a long time since she'd used it. "You're trying to keep it together."
His eyes cast downward to look upon her in his arms. All day, it'd been a barrage of statements directed at 'Obi-Wan;' with one minor moment from the child of Leia Organa. Baring that one instance, he hadn't heard the name he'd exiled himself under since his arrival. The name he'd been given by her once years ago. It allowed for the softest smile from him, even as his better sense finally came to him and he considered stepping backwards.
He did not yet do that. "I cannot hide anything from you, can I, my Dear?"
"I'd ask you to forgive me for speaking so plainly, but we both know I wouldn't be." Satine pulled herself upright to look at him. It hadn't been so long ago that she'd reached out to touch his beard to tell him she wasn't sure of it. It seemed to suit him now more than it had before. "Do you want to?"
"No, I do not." He knew his feelings had always been rather crystal clear when it came to the subject of Satine. It was simply that they went unspoken on both ends. At least, until the very end, where Satine had been concerned. Her final words to him had been seared upon him as one of his deeper heartaches.
He cast his gaze down upon her, and though the ache of the day still remained, he gave a light smile. "I am glad to have you here."
"It's seems like there is too much to say, and yet I cannot string any words together to explain how I feel in this moment." It seemed too delicate a matter, and yet she'd been at the sunset of her life only hours before. She was torn between propriety, as was their mode of communication in all things for over a decade, or unshackling herself from her entire life. "How you must feel. It's been how long? For you?"
There was a nod of agreement from Obi-Wan with that statement. There was far too much that would likely need to be spoken of as they pressed on. If this were to be the new reality of their lives, and he found himself genuinely considering the possibility of hoping so, there would be time. "I can only imagine what it is like for you," he stated. One could not prepare for the possibility of knowing you'd literally been pulled from your moment of death, where it was a guarantee. Nor could you prepare for facing long deceased loved ones.
It wasn't the same as speaking to Qui-Gon from beyond. He pulled in a breath, and rather wearily, took a step back from the embrace. If he did not now, he wasn't certain he'd ever be able to do so. "Years," he answered, as his hand reached out to scoop up hers, just as it had on that fateful day on Mandalore.
Satine's short conversation with the young Mandalorian told her that everything she'd struggled for — the Civil War that Mandalore endured, Death Watch, the deaths of so many of her people — was not only in vain, but was utterly useless. Mandalore had gone back to its ways, under an Empire even, and even more bloodshed occured.
"My sister. My brother. Korkie. Are they —" She squeezed his hand, not knowing if she wanted the answer at all. "They're still alive?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation, "Or they were last I was aware. I haven't been able to maintain correspondence," he added on, as hesitation now did creep in. He owed them both his life. He looked to Satine now. "They aided me in my escape."
A pause.
"In the aftermath."
So Bo-Katan had come to her senses in the wake of her death. What her sister must think of her: the weak duchess who let filth take over Mandalore with her honor. Satine hoped that Bo knew her true feelings for her sister, despite their differences.
Satine had always been a woman of will and perseverance, but she found herself, now, exhausted — mentally and physically. Her throat was more of a problem than she realized as she struggled to clear it. Her knees were wobbly — though, if asked, she would tell anyone who could hear that it was from the ship crash and not from overwhelming emotions. "I think I need some time to think or to rest. I'm not really sure. I'm not sure of anything right now."
She struggled to maintain eye contact with him, feeling guilt ridden and angry at herself, and Maul, and Pre Vizsla. What chance had they had for their future? None. No one would leave them to discover it. "There's too much in my head."
With his attention so focused on her, the statement wasn't one that surprised him. He'd expected this to be the case well before he'd actually come to greet Satine. Even for someone as strong as she, it was far too much to be thrown in the span of a few hours. He'd gone through much the same earlier that morning and he wasn't managing it as well as he'd have liked himself. The exhaustion of it all was something he could sympathize with without any difficulty.
He wasn't certain if Satine would wish to do these things in solitude or not. There was a large part of Obi-Wan who wished to take time to meditate on all that had been discovered and to work through the grief that was now, once again, at the forefront of him. But having been several years separated from her company, and having expected it to be a permanent faced of his life all his remaining years, he found the idea of leaving her side an unpleasant one. Even if he would do just that if that was what she'd like.
"I can escort you to your suite, if you would like." He hadn't even seen his yet.
She turned and slipped her arm through his, even if her fingers lingered closer to his hand than she normally would have allowed herself. There were thoughts about life and death and all the space in between that were making her head fuzzy. Even if she wasn't reluctant to leave his side, she'd need someone to show her the lay of the ship.
"You know that I always enjoy being on your arm."
He didn't pull from her as she did so. This wouldn't have been so easily offered in the past, but given the circumstances, he wasn't in a rush to deny her. He tilted his head off in the direction that would lead them to the steps.
"I do recall a fondness for having you at my side."
Though the whole meeting was bittersweet, there was comfort in having his face be the first she saw there. His voice, the first she heard. So many lost years between then. Satine's thought turned to how nothing she had done for Mandalore mattered in the end. She chose her people, and all it got them was killed. If only she'd chosen another path…
Satine looked up with a faint smile at Obi-Wan as they walked. "The beard's grown on me."