#Obi-Wan x Satine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phoeebsbuffay · 2 years ago

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Imagine Obi-Wan meets Leia and Luke in a world where Padmé lives and Anakin hasn’t gone to the dark side.

Warnings: none; fluffy light reading. Short story.

Warnings 2: not my art. The link to it is here:

***

Sun rises in paradise. Here, in Coruscant, where the Force flows it's natural course, no Siths cause troubles. The skies begin to brighten under a mix of orange and purple, the people start their day, not living a perfect life but under the certainty there is no war to fight, no violence to fear.

Peace has won. Balance has been achieved. And in such a scenario, the Jedis prevailed after learning difficult lessons.

One of these is the Chosen One himself. Anakin Skywalker was tempted by the Chancellor, but he resisted. Obi-Wan Kenobi helped him throughout the process. There were no judgements, nor pride. So was the emperor defeated.

"There is still justice in this world", Padmé remarked, relieved for the closing of the clone wars. "Yet our job is not done yet."

"Definitely not", so said Anakin. "Specially concerning our children. I still think it's going to be a girl."

Padmé chuckled then, caressing her growing belly delightely so.

"On the contrary, it's going to be a boy. I know because my mother told me that smaller bellies are usually more rounded because of the unborn boys. They are more practical, hence why they need little space."

Both laughed. It was a very good day that day, where Anakin had proven all why was he the chosen one. With Padmé in his arms, he rocked her gently, resting his hands over her belly.

"If your mother says so, I won't be the one to say otherwise."

"How prudent of you, Ani. One of the very rare times where you actually are reasonable", she teased him.

They laughed again in syncrony. Padmé turned at him, that very day dressed in purple silk gown with her curls loose on her back. She placed her hands over his shoulders. Anakin was so tall, strong and handome. Ah, had she not been in such a heavy state...

"You know I can hear your thoughts”, he remarked in between chuckles.

Padmé looked away, a weak blush painting her cheeks. Even after all this time, he never ceased to surprise her, to make her go red. And yet, it was such a feeling that brought her into the purest delight she was fortunate to experiment.

“Well… Once I am allowed…”

Anakin pulled her into a delicate embrace, still chuckling, and peppered her skin with kisses.

“…we will definitely have time for bringing more children to our blessed family.”

And time would prove him to be right, despite Padmé’s protestations that he was deluded.

***

They were baffled when not only one but two children were born. Twins. A boy and a girl.

“By the Maker, we were not so wrong after all”, said Padmé, astonished as she held baby Luke in her arms and Anakin rocked Leia in his. “Twins, Anakin.”

“Twins”, he repeated, in complete awe. “We are a family, Padmé.”

She knew the reason why he was emotional: having been deprived from his, he always sought to build his, one more functional. And here he was having his opportunity.

Padmé flashed him a big grin.

“We are. We have always been one. You are my family, Anakin.”

He took a seat by her side and pressed a kiss over her forehead.

“As you are mine, Padmé.”

As he contemplated their children, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“When will we tell Obi-Wan?”, Padmé inquired him after a while.

“He is at Mandalore doing you know what”, Anakin smirked.

Padmé sighed dramatically.

“Maker knows how Obi-Wan Kenobi is the slowest man in the galaxy. How did Satine cooperate with him? I’d have no patience with such a man.”

“Hence why you are married to me.”

She laughed quietly.

“Shush or you will wake the babies.”

They exchanged loving glances and proud smiles before sealing the happy moment with a kiss.

***

But it would take a few years before Obi-Wan Kenobi met his “grandchildren”. For in this time he was not only busy attending Senate demands, but also dealing with matters in Mandalore.

That means to say he finally took Duchess Satine as his lawful wife. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more suffering.

With that he spent considerable time with the woman he loved. Naturally so, considering the years apart. So even though he and Anakin managed to meet, it was only when Luke and Leia were running around and disputing attention with their younger sister named Soka that he and Satine managed to meet.

And when it does…

“This is where the fun begins!”, Anakin tells his children.

“Anakin Skywalker, you are not piloting fast with our babies…”

“Mom! I am not a baby!”, 3 year old Luke protests firmly, getting a smile from his parents. “I am a boy! And I love ships!”

Padmé leant against the door, sighing heavily.

“Even so, young man you may be, but you are still young nevertheless. So your father cannot pilot fast.”

Anakin feigns a face of innocence as he glances at his wife.

“Do you honestly believe I would put our children together?”

It doesn’t help his case that Leia, Luke and even young Soka burst into giggles. Padmé raises an eyebrow at all of them.

“What should I interpret from this sound, Anakin? I may reconsider going to Senate and…”

Anakin leans to peck her lips and smiles at her.

“Trust in me, boo. I will not put any of them in danger. Go to your work. I’ll pick Obi-Wan and be home in a moment.”

Padmé bites her bottom lip.

“Soka is a baby!”

“I can take care of them three.” Anakin sighs dramatically. “Honestly to Maker, Padmé, who do you think I am?”

She laughs heartily, her heart skipping a beat at his protests. As she looks at her husband with the sweetest devotion, Padmé smiles warmly.

“I know I chose well the one to father my children. Pilot safe, Ani. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her gently before finally closing the window. Turning at the kids, though, Anakin adds: “Say goodbye to your mother, children.”

“Bye mommy!!”, so say Leia, Luke and Soka at the same time.

But Padmé can tell that they are far too entertained with the ship and the stroll they are taking with their father to miss her. And that makes her beam with herself.

***

“There. Is. No. Fun. In. Piloting. This. Fast. Anakin”, so says Obi-Wan Kenobi when taking a seat by his former pupil’s side at the ship.

It does little to make the situation better that his children, toddlers, are having fun! How could they find this reckless behavior amusing is beyond Obi-Wan’s comprehension.

“Pa Obi is afraid of daddy!” Luke giggles.

“Because daddy has the higher ground”, says Leia.

Obi-Wan turns his face at Anakin, eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

“What does “Pa Obi” mean?”

Anakin is laughing hard by the time he finally makes to his home.

“Luke finds easier to call you Pa instead of Grandfather or Grandpa.”

“What?” Obi-Wan turns at the toddlers. “I am not that old to look like a grandfather, children.”

“Well, but you are not young either”, remarks Luke, making his sisters giggle.

Obi-Wan heavily sighs before casting Anakin a pained look.

“They truly are yours, Anakin. I am not even surprised.”

As they leave the ship, Anakin takes Soka in his arms and watches as the twins run inside.

“Well, what can I say? I am their father.”

Later that day, with Padmé still occupied at work, Obi-Wan watches as Anakin makes sure Soka is sleeping all the whilst he puts the twins to have dinner.

“Padmé is busy today”, Anakin explains when finding an unposed question behind his old Master’s eyes. “You have to eat vegetables, Leia. Don’t make that face.”

And turning again at Obi-Wan, who watches the scene with a small smile on his lips, Anakin offers the other a beer as he opens one for himself.

“Well, you met them. My little creatures”, he chuckles.

“Oh yes. They are very like you. Luke and Soka have your hair, but Padmé’s eyes. Leia, however, looks like her mother, but she has your eyes”, muses Obi-Wan, before adding rather sarcastically. “A bad trait the three seem to share with you is their taste for speed, though. Goodness me, Anakin.”

He laughs hard at his remark. Luke and Leia seem too busy entertained with their tasteless food to pay the older men some attention.

“What can I say? I told you, they are mine. Though Luke is very close to C3-P0 and R2-D2.”

“Oh really?” Obi-Wan raises eyebrows.

“Sometimes they get too close which is fine by me”, teases Anakin.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you are making the poor droids in the nanny position, Anakin.”

“That depends of the circumstances”, responds Anakin suggestively.

“Good grief!”

But even Obi-Wan cannot resist a laughter. Their conversation is then briefly interrupted as Leia wants her father’s attention. Anakin holds her in his arm, telling stories about princesses as well as senators who fought for a better world.

It’s when Luke comes at Obi-Wan.

“Pa Obi, my birthday is coming. Can you get me a saber as a birthday gift?” He makes puppy face.

The older male gets on his knee to match his height and ruffles with his hair. He senses the Force in the boy, as he sensed earlier in both his sisters.

“I am not giving you a lightsaber to you, Luke. You are not even four!”

The merry scenario is interrupted by the arrival of Padmé. Luke instantly runs to her, but Leia is already fast asleep in her father’s arms. Padmé quickly greets Obi-Wan, but she has to make sure the twins are in bed.

“Luke, darling, you had a long day. It’s time to go to bed. Tomorrow you have school. Come on, go on, young man. Say goodnight to grandpa Obi-Wan and to your dad.”

Once Luke says as he is commanded to, Obi-Wan stands by Anakin’s side, watching the young boy going upstairs holding his mother’s hand.

“He has the Force”, he comments almost to himself. “They all do.”

“I know.” Anakin hesitates. “But this is too early to discuss.”

Obi-Wan nods in agreement.

“Indeed it is. There is no need to rush with these matters. Well, it’s late. It was a delight to meet your offspring, Anakin. They do have a lot in common with you.”

Anakin chuckles, pressing a hand in his old friend’s shoulder.

“I, more than anyone, am very thankful for your presence here with us. Please come to visit us tomorrow.”

“I will try. In fact, I have news to share.”

Obi-Wan smiles and Anakin does not need to ask the reason. But it is only when Padmé arrives that they are informed that Satine is carrying their first child.

A great news to close a great day. But later as Anakin and Padmé slip in bed, he turns to his wife and says:

“You know… When Obi-Wan told me Satine is pregnant, a sentiment occurred me.”

Padmé raises an eyebrow, rather intrigued by what she is told. She puts the blankets over them and encourages her husband to tell more about it.

“Well”, he says. “I think a boy is coming. And if he does, he will be only a year younger than our dear Soka.”

Padmé laughs before lacing her arms around his neck.

“Anakin, let’s be reasonable. We don’t know anything about the child yet. Let’s not speculate too much.”

That evening, Anakin Skywalker has no reason to complain. Instead, he gladly complies to his wife by engaging in another marital activity that might as well bring one more Skywalker to the world.

Though sooner rather than later his suspicious are confirmed. Whether it’s a coincidence or not, nine months later a boy is born to Satine and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And it does seem strange that Korkie Kenobi’s path might cross Soka Skywalker’s in a nearby future… The result of that? No one could tell yet.

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine star wars #anakin skywalker #Anidala #Obitine #Padmé Amidala #alternative universe #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Duchess Satine #Padmé x Anakin #Obi-Wan x Satine #Leia Skywalker #Luke Skywalker

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kryzobi-wan · 1 year ago

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hope like the sun

Obitine Week 2023!

Day 1 (Korkie, triumph, sunrise)

Happy Obitine Week 2023! Much love to all content creators and readers <3

Tagging: @weekofobitine

Rating: G

Summary: Obi-Wan wakes in a world where Anakin Skywalker never became Darth Vader, where instead of everything going wrong, everything went right. Is that too much for him to ask for?

Read on Ao3

“Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

~Leia Organa

-.-.-

The air is still and silent. He lies in a cool abyss, surrounded by a peace that he isn’t sure he’s familiar with. But, oh, it feels like he is. Or he should be. It feels like an old friend.

Muffled sounds reach his ears. The comfortable coolness gives way to a growing warmth. Not burning, no, but the warmth of the first dredges of sunlight filtering through an open window. A beam of golden hued light dusts his eyelashes, causing them to flutter. The muffled noises become clearer.

Voices. Ones he doesn’t quite recognize. Children.

Squinting, he pries his eyes open, and is met with the sight of a sheer curtain billowing above him, the warm breeze blowing through the cracked window. Outside he hears faint notes of water rippling ashore, repeatedly washing over smooth stones before retreating the way it came. Birds take flight, rustling the leaves of the trees and chirping a happy morning tune.

The sunlight is bright in his eyes, causing him to all but close them against the glare. He shields his sight with an outstretched hand, lifting himself into a half-upright position and glancing warily at his surroundings.

The couch he is laying on is unfamiliar. As is everything about this place. Well, everything except—

“Angel, do we have any honeyfruit?”

At the sound of his former padawan’s voice, Obi-Wan sits bolt upright, his eyes blown wide. He scrambles around in search of his weapon, but it is nowhere to be found. His breathing comes in gasps, and he clutches at his chest with a shaking hand, certain that the organ which is now beating wildly beneath his tunic had been painfully removed from his body years ago.

His eyes, wild and afraid, flit from one corner of the room to another in search of the source of the voice, and he finds it.

It's him.

Standing behind a stone countertop in a large kitchen is Anakin, just as he remembers him. He is staring at Obi-Wan from across the room, an amused—if not a little concerned—smile on his face.

“Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” the apparition speaks. Or is it an apparition? How could it not be? “You alright there, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer, but it may as well have been filled with ash. He chokes on whatever words would have escaped, choosing instead to slam his eyes and his mouth shut and stand abruptly from the sofa. He makes his way over to a window, glancing out at wherever it is he has found himself, working to regulate his breathing.

He hears Anakin chuckle and return to stirring something in a large bowl.

Before him lies a glittering lake, with verdant mountains rising up from it in the distance. The sun is just peeking up from above the horizon, casting a warm glow on the lush landscape and causing the early morning dew to sparkle.

Naboo?

All questions of “how? why? when?” are too much to bear, and he shakes them from his head. He feels dizzy. He feels sick.

“Did you say something, dear?” a woman’s voice calls out, and Obi-Wan turns. Just entering the room is Padmé Amidala, dressed in a flowing but relatively simple lavender dress, by her standards anyway. She fastens an earring to her ear as she approaches a beaming Anakin, leaning in to give him a light peck on the lips, her hand coming to a rest on his sternum.

Anakin drops the spoon he was holding and grabs her hand instead, lightly rubbing the back of it with his thumbs. He murmurs something in response, but Obi-Wan can’t hear it. The voices he heard earlier are back, shrilly increasing in volume as they make their approach from down the hall.

Before Obi-Wan can prepare himself, two tiny bodies throw themselves face first into his sides, nearly knocking him over.

“Uncle Obi-Wan! Uncle Obi-Wan!” they call out, the little blond one practically trying to climb him like a tree. Their chattering continues at speeds the old Jedi can’t keep up with, not in this state, and he finds himself being handed toys of various shapes and sizes, mostly from the little brunette who seems to be trying to tell him something.

“Sl—slow down,” he manages to stutter out, squinting as if that might make it easier to parse out what the tiny girl is trying to say. It doesn’t. His knuckles turn white gripping a toy ship in his hands.

“Luke! Leia!” Anakin says, his voice commanding yet kind, “Get off Uncle Obi-Wan, he just woke up.”

The children obediently bound into the kitchen, two fiery balls of endless energy. Padmé has taken up station at the stove, working on something Obi-Wan can’t see from his vantage point.

He’s just glad to finally be free of the unexpected onslaught of tiny limbs he’d found himself in.

The children are hopping up and down, tugging on Anakin’s hands and clothes and staring up at him with the purest look of adoration he’s ever seen. Anakin crouches down and ruffles their hair, and Obi-Wan can just make out the words, “How would you feel if I came in and jumped on you while you were still waking up?” which is met with squeals of delight instead of the appropriate abashed apologies.

Obi-Wan’s knees feel weak as everything that has occurred in the last few minutes catches up with him. He sits himself heavily on the couch, eyes glazing over in deep thought.

Luke. Leia. The last time he’d seen them this close, they were newborn babies, motherless and fatherless. But there’s Padmé, looking alive and well. And Anakin…

Anakin is wearing an apron and cooking him breakfast.

If this is a dream, it’s a strange dream. A very strange, and cruel, and heartbreaking dream.

Before him lies everything as it should have been. Anakin and his family, Padmé and the twins, living together in the brightness of day, unashamed of the forbidden nature of their relationship. Anakin is a father, in every sense of the word. It comes naturally to him, like this is what he was always meant to be. It’s comfortable in a way that makes Obi-Wan feel uneasy, because as lovely as this picture is, it can’t be right. It can’t be real.

“Hey, Obi-Wan,” Anakin calls as he stands to his full height once more, shifting his attention back to his former master. “When’s the missus get here? Food will be ready soon.”

Obi-Wan opens and closes his mouth, unsure what he could possibly mean by that, only to feel his heart stop at the sound of someone knocking on the door.

No. It can’t be. Absolutely not.

Padmé grins and says, “I’ll get it!” She makes her way to the door, Luke and Leia quick on her heels, and Obi-Wan holds his breath. He doesn’t dare hope.

The door opens, and he shoots to his feet as his suspicions are confirmed.

Satine. Looking… radiant as ever.

Oh, Satine.

Obi-Wan’s eyes fill with tears. It has been so long. So, so long. He wants to approach her, to reach out to see if she’s real, but his feet are glued to the floor, and he seems to be having difficulty swallowing. He presses his lips together tightly in an effort to still the trembling of his chin, but he’s met with little success.

Satine.

Anakin is watching him from his place in the kitchen, flashing a knowing smirk in his direction. He glances away for a moment, wiping his hands on a dish towel, before making his way over to Obi-Wan and clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Master, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen her, but there’s no need for that!” Obi-Wan tears his eyes away from Satine just long enough to meet his padawan’s eyes, and stubbornly wipes at the wetness forming on his cheeks. “Go say hello to your wife!” Anakin encourages further, pushing him toward her and barely concealing his amusement.

Obi-Wan mechanically puts one foot in front of the other, somehow managing to carry himself closer to her. The toy ship he still holds drops to the ground.

Ghosts, all of them. He’s surrounded by ghosts.

As he approaches her, Satine turns from her conversation with Padmé and grins, opening her arms to him. Words fail him. His tongue is as silent as the grave she is supposed to be in. But there she stands, welcoming him into her embrace. He takes one last disbelieving look at her and collapses into her, burying his face in her hair and holding her tightly.

She’s solid, real. He nuzzles further into her neck and holds back a sob, straining to keep silent.

His intensity catches her off guard, but she recovers quickly, smiling bemusedly and rubbing circles on his back.

“Satine,” he whispers into her shoulder. The word sounds like a prayer spoken directly into her skin, where he hopes it, and all he means to convey, will make its way to her soul. He marvels at the way her name feels on his lips after so long of it being unspoken. Thinks of the time he spent trying to forget what had happened to her.

“Goodness, someone’s extra clingy today,” she says with a laugh. “Miss me?”

Obi-Wan can do nothing but nod numbly into the crook of her neck, never letting go.

Anakin slides an arm around Padmé, watching his friend with a contented look on his face. “Obi-Wan is a lifesaver,” he speaks, “I don’t know what I would have done with these two rascals while Padmé was at the Senate if he weren’t here to help.”

Luke and Leia giggle, ducking their heads to evade Anakin’s hands ruffling their hair again.

Obi-Wan feels Satine hum a laugh of her own and she rocks him gently, her fingers running through the hair at the base of his neck in a comforting swirl. “What did I tell you? He’s the best co-parent in the galaxy.”

At that, Anakin lets out a burst of laughter, glancing at Padmé. “I think I’m obligated to object to that on principle, but I’ll put him down as a close second.”

Obi-Wan is intoxicated. She smells just as he remembered. Like lilies and warm spices. All the cares he’s collected over the years are slipping away by the minute and he can barely keep up with the conversation. What is this about co-parenting?

And then another voice sounds, this one younger, but on the verge of becoming a man.

“Father, you’re blocking the doorway.”

Obi-Wan stiffens. Satine chuckles and lets go of Obi-Wan, only to find herself still trapped in his embrace. “My dear,” she jokingly grumbles, “As much as I’d love to stand here for the rest of eternity, it has been a long trip and I’d like to eat sooner rather than later.”

Slowly, Obi-Wan lets his grip around her waist loosen and he steps back, afraid to even look to see who had spoken. The moment sufficient space becomes available, a boy, just a few years shy of approaching Obi-Wan’s height, rushes through the gap created between him and Satine, carrying a tray of some Mandalorian breakfast dish he couldn’t even name anymore. The boy busies himself with placing it on the table, oblivious to how Obi-Wan stares after him, his heart breaking repeatedly in waves.

What is this? Some cruel dream? His deepest hopes and desires laid out before him? What entity would subject him to this?

Obi-Wan sways on his feet, overwhelmed and ill-prepared to face these spectres of his past after so many years separated from the living Force.

“Darling, are you alright?” Satine asks, placing a hand on his forehead. The boy is seated next to Anakin, chattering away about getting to fly the ship to Naboo, and Obi-Wan shakes his head, uncertain if anything he has heard since he woke up this morning is true. Satine glances in the boy’s direction, following Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“Korkie, come say hello to your father.”

The boy, Korkie, turns his head back to them, ceasing his conversation with Anakin. Before he can get up, though, Obi-Wan steps forward, kneeling to the ground at his feet and searching his eyes for some unknown truth.

He finds it.

His son… his son, smiles at him, and it’s like looking in a mirror. The perfect mixture of himself and Satine’s features on display for all to see. Tears well in his eyes as he slowly brings a hand up to trace the boy’s cheek, his chest swirling with awe and longing, joy and heartbreak.

“Did you hear I flew the ship?” Korkie asks eagerly, oblivious to his father’s roiling emotions.

It takes Obi-Wan a moment to summon his voice back from wherever it had gone, but eventually he chokes out, “Yes, I am very proud of you.” Tears shine in his eyes, and to prevent any more embarrassment than necessary, he pulls the boy into a fierce hug, his face coming to rest against Korkie’s chest. He can feel a heartbeat there telling him this is real, but he still doesn’t believe it. Giggling, Korkie wraps his arms around his father’s shoulders for a moment, just a moment, before squirming to get away.

His impatience reminds him of another young boy Obi-Wan had once known.

“Is this real?” Obi-Wan asks. He doesn’t want to question it, doesn’t want to break the spell, but the words leave his lips anyway. He’s been hurt far too many times in the past to accept a gift such as this without hesitation. He knows it’s too good to be true, and yet, he hopes. He hopes and hopes and hopes, and knows before he sees her face what the answer is.

He turns back to look at Satine, and her face is sad. Around them, the house and people fade away, until all that is left is him and her and an impossible sunrise, surrounding them from all sides. He kneels in sparkling water a few inches deep that reflects the reds and oranges and yellows of the sky above and around them. They are floating in this imagined space, and he drops his head to his chest, feeling once more as if his heart has been torn from his body.

“Why?” he asks aloud. It is silent for long enough that he suspects he is alone again, but when he looks up, he sees that she has moved closer. Her hand finds its way to his cheekbone, brushing across it in a sad but loving gesture. Her eyes lock onto his as she kneels in front of him, the water soaking through the garment she wears.

“What was that?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice breaking along with the rest of him. “Why would you show me that? Why would you—”

Tears spill from his eyes. His capacity for speech has left him.

“What I have shown you was the will of the Force,” Satine answers, confirming what Obi-Wan had begun to suspect.

It had shown him everything he wanted. The way he wishes things had gone.

“Was it—” he takes a breath, then another, “Was it my fault? Could I have stopped him?”

That was the question he’d been asking himself for more than half a decade.

Was that what triumph would have looked like? If Obi-Wan had been there to help him and hold him and comfort him in the face of great anger and suffering, would Palpatine have failed? If he had been encouraging instead of dismissive, would Anakin be alive? If he had allowed himself to love him, and assured him of his love no matter what shame and secrets he concealed, could that have been their life? Breakfast at Anakin and Padmé’s on a lazy weekend morning? Satine by his side and a son, a son he had never known was his own, proudly telling him of his accomplishments?

The possibilities and regrets are too much to bear.

He feels Satine’s hands wrap around his own, pulling them to her lap.

“My dear Obi-Wan,” she begins. “You must let go of this vision of victory. It was not to be.”

He ducks his head again, but she doesn’t let him. She tilts his head up to meet her serious gaze, ensuring that he receives this message.

“But there is a victory that can yet be won, my love. You must not let go of hope. The hope you carry is the last and only one we have.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, and he wraps his arms around her waist once more, clutching her tightly. “You have the strength to carry on. And I will see you again when it is finished.”

“Satine,” he gasps out, sensing that a final goodbye is imminent.

“Not a final goodbye,” she promises, speaking his thoughts aloud. “We will be together again, my brave Jedi.”

With a sense of urgency, Obi-Wan unwraps his arms from around her waist, grasping instead to her hand and drinking in the sight of her like a desperate man dying of thirst in the desert.

Maybe that’s a more apt description than he initially meant.

“I’ve always loved sunrises,” Satine speaks dreamily, glancing around at their surroundings with an easy smile on her face. “Has there ever been a darkness that hasn’t ended in a sunrise?”

Obi-Wan feels his lips curl in a watery smile, taking her words to heart. He shakes his head. No.

“Well then,” she grins, “I will see you in the dawn, my love.”

Before he loses the chance, Obi-Wan leans toward her and captures her lips with his own, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair behind her ear.

“I love you,” he whispers between kisses, “I love you,” repeating it over and over, and he cannot make himself let her go. She smiles against his lips, and he feels the years of grief and suffering release as tears down his cheeks.

“I’ll love you always,” Satine assures him, pulling away just slightly. “Till we meet again.”

He closes his eyes, memorizing the details of her face and the feel of her lips on his. And he feels the weight of her hand in his fade away until all he is left holding is air.

-.-.-

He wakes in a dark cave, the air stale but unfortunately familiar. It’s the closest thing to a home that he’s had in the years since the downfall of the Republic, a pitiful dwelling in the cracked ridges of Tatooine’s desert, but he’d never really call it home. Home was something he’d lost a long time ago. Speared through by a red lightsaber. Sliced to pieces by his own saber, which now lies dormant in the sands of this forsaken planet.

He drags himself up from his cot, rubbing a hand over his eyes and through his dirty, overgrown hair. The night’s sleep had not been restful, that wasn’t new, but never had a dream been so vivid and clear to him.

This, he ponders as he emerges from the cave entrance. The last glimmers of stars flicker out of the sky above, giving way to the first faint traces of sunlight on the edges of this vast and empty landscape.

He stands in the usual place, the speck in the distance being the Lars homestead. Just this once, though, he leaves his macrobinoculars in his bag. Today, he simply stands there, marveling at the beauty of the twin sunrise he had been taking for granted.

The nights on Tatooine were cold and harsh. Now, though, beams of light warmed his skin, and he closed his eyes to soak in the sensation.

There was hope, Satine had told him so. Dawn would come soon.

He only needed to make it through the night.

#obitine week #obitine week 2023 #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #satine kryze #luke skywalker #leia organa #obitine fanfic #my fanfic #korkie kryze #obi-wan x satine #sw tcw

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marinamar4 · 3 months ago

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Confession time:

The other day, I searched on ao3 for "Obi-Wan/sabine". It was a total accident! I wanted to put "Obi-Wan/satine" and I got one letter wrong!

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #sabine wren #Obi-wan x satine #ao3 #star wars rebels

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weekofobitine · 1 year ago

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Day 2 of Obitine Week is just as big of a success as the first! Thank you so much to everyone who is participating, either as a creator or an imbiber!

Regardless of which camp you fall into, please take a little time to read, like, comment, reblog, and leave kudos on other people's works! Those interactions ensure that your creators have the motivation to keep creating!

#Obitine Week #Obitine Week 2023 #Obi-Wan x Satine #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze

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mostrandomgallery · 1 year ago

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"The Duchess Loves Calla Lilies"

Obadiah Kenoly knows that Duchess Satinka of Hungary loves Calla Lilies. She wears them in her hair quite often, and has accessories molded after the white, vase-shaped flower. Whenever he sees them, he thinks of her; the beautiful flowers adorning her blonde tresses. If he could, he'd hand her a bouquet of them. And they would be the flowers that would adorn their [hypothetical] wedding, should they ever have one.

DO NOT REPOST!!!

Also on deviantART

#star wars #the clone wars #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #obitine #obi-wan x satine #fanart #my art #SW AU #clone wars AU #the flowers in satine's hairpiece resemble Calla Lilies to me #stained glass #justice excellence defense intelligence #jedi #art #artists on tumblr #museum of stephanie

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scottysketches · 7 months ago

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wip wednesday on a thursday

Still working on chapter 4 (nearly done), so here's an excerpt to tide y'all over until it's published :)

—

“Do you know where we’re going?” Korkie asks him later that evening as he brushes his hair back from his face, looking at his father in the mirror. He’s dressed in a smart-yet-casual short sleeved shirt — white with vertical navy and beige stripes — and light blue twill jeans in a tapered fit, with casual sneakers in a blue-grey colour to match.

Obi-Wan glances up at him. “No, I don’t. All your mother told me is that Amis has organised a meal out for your birthday with us, Soniee, Lagos, Anakin and Padmé.” Obi-Wan himself doesn’t keep much in the way of smart clothing, but he does thankfully have a black shirt to match with the dark brown slacks he had worn for the housewarming dinner just a month previous, and a smart-ish chronometer on his wrist. He wears boots similar to the ones that make up the footwear for his regular Jedi attire, but they’re cut off at the ankles. His former padawan had taken Huyang back to the temple some time after lunch, and Obi-Wan had spent the next two hours with Korkie, beginning to teach him the basics of wielding his lightsaber in both its full cross-guard form and its dual wielding stance. He had been pleasantly surprised, and impressed, with how quickly Korkie had adjusted to the lighter weight of the lightsaber, compared to the beskad he had trained with on Mandalore.

Just then, Satine comes out of her bedroom, wearing a light blue floor-length dress that appears to float around her, with a darker blue jacket draped over her shoulders and a black leather purse in her hand. Her heels click on the wooden floor as she approaches them. “Are you ready?”

The men both look at each other, and Korkie shrugs. “I guess so. Where’s Amis? Is he meeting us there?”

Satine nods. “He asked me to drop him off at Lagos and Soniee’s apartment. But he’ll be coming back here tonight.”

They all step out onto the landing platform, the bi-fold doors automatically sliding shut behind them. Korkie whistles appreciatively as a smart black speeder lands at the end of the platform, its doors opening and revealing a plush interior, not visible from the outside due to the tinted windows. “This is a bit swank.”

Satine laughs. “Well, it’s not every day your young man turns twenty.” Korkie grins that familiar lopsided Kryze grin, wrapping his arms around his mother’s slim frame and hugging her tight. She presses a kiss to his cheek, and as they pull away from each other she muses aloud, “You’re all grown up, now. I’d like to think I did a good job.”

“Well, considering the circumstances, I’d have to agree,” Obi-Wan says, one hand rubbing Satine’s shoulders and the other resting on the back of Korkie’s neck.

His son thinks for a moment, and then says quietly, “My first birthday with my dad. That’s something special, in and of itself, I think.” They climb into the speeder, and take their seats as the doors close, the tint on the windows deepening.

Satine opens her purse and pulls out a small ring box. “Here. This is your gift from myself and Bo.”

Korkie takes the small box and flicks it open. Inside is a beskar ring, inlaid with haysian smelt, with a thin band and a wider, round top. (If Obi-Wan recalls correctly, Satine had once told him that such a ring was known as a sovereign ring.) The haysian smelt is embossed in the motif of a lily, the flower that represents Clan Kryze. His son’s eyes widen. “Is this—?”

“Your grandfather’s sovereign ring? Yes,” Satine answers. She looks slightly wistful; Adonai Kryze had been a hard man to please, though Obi-Wan knew that prior to his death he had eventually warmed to the idea of embracing a pacifist stance, to stop Mandalorians from wiping each other out. “After he and your grandmother died, a lot of their possessions at Castle Kryze were sent to me in Sundari. Most I put up for auction — such as my mother’s dresses and jewellery — but I kept my father’s ring, his armour and his beskad.”

“I don’t really remember them,” Korkie says. “They died when I was little, didn’t they?”

Satine nods. “You were only a baby when my mother passed, and you’d just turned one when my father followed her into the manda. We reconciled not long before that day — maybe a month — but he wanted you to have his ring when you turned twenty.”

Korkie removes the ring from its cushioned box and slides it onto his right index finger, testing its weight and the way it conforms to the shape of his finger. Looking up at Satine, he leans in and gives her another hug. “Vor’e, buir.” Satine smiles, smoothing their son’s hair back from his face when they separate.

“So, what did you two get up to, today?” she asks once Korkie has leaned back into his seat once more.

Obi-Wan and Korkie glance at each other. “Oh,” Korkie says awkwardly, “just… this and that.”

His mother’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Kohav Kryze, you are a terrible liar.”

Korkie winces. “Well, I think the major revelation from a few weeks ago would prove that statement wrong.” But he sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “We, uh, built a lightsaber together with the crystal in my toy tooka. Thanks for not telling me about that, by the way.”

Satine’s eyebrow arches, but she’s unable to hold back a laugh at Korkie’s snarky comment about his kyber crystal. “And where is this lightsaber now, then?”

“It’s in Korkie’s room at the moment,” Obi-Wan says, “but I’ll take it with me to the temple tomorrow and store it in my rooms for safe keeping.”

“What? Why?” Korkie sounds insulted.

Obi-Wan pins him in place with a look. “You need training. I don’t fancy being on the end of your mother’s wrath if you accidentally cut off a limb trying to parry a basic attack.” Korkie pouts, and Obi-Wan is reminded of when Anakin was just a young boy, childishly sulking over not being chosen to travel to the Jedi temple on Ilum for the Gathering as soon as he wanted.

—

Mando'a translations:

Beskad - slightly curved sabre of Mandalorian iron Beskar - Mandalorian iron Manda - the collective soul or heaven; the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit (also supreme, overarching, guardian-like) Vor'e, buir - Thanks, mum

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