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290896 · 1 year ago

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Happy Birthday! This letter is meant to be read in chunks, like while you are on the crapper or something. Don't go through it all at once!

Do you have a gay bestie? Cause if you don’t i’d like to volunteer for the position. I can start today. 🙋🏻‍♂️

Every it girl needs a gay best friend bro c’mon.

—

한승주

One thing I appreciate so much about you is that even though we've only met in person no more than 2 or 3 times, you treat me like someone you've known forever. I mean you made time to meet me even though you were sick, even though you were swamped with work. You gave me the nicest hug even though I told you not to cause I was sweaty. Not only that but you didn't even let me pay for anything, and you were about ready to hop a cab over to Parnas due to a mistake that I MADE in communication. You and your drip IV'd ass said you "felt bad" that I, a military man mind you, had to walk less than a kilometer through a bit of heat to come see you.

I can only imagine how well you must treat your actual, longtime friends.

김치

Kimchi is storing something good away, in hopes that something great might come of it later. - JY Park, circa 2016

You and I have been chatting since 2014 or so. And to be honest I've always wanted to hangout with you back then, but never really felt right doing so. I think I was intimidated to be honest. You being this cool, interesting Northwestern gal. And me being a lump of coal who just went to Columbia. So almost on purpose, I kept my distance in college, then throughout the years, only making sure to check in every now and then so that we don't lose touch.

I'm quite glad I did though.

People say it's harder to make friends the older you get. I don't agree. I think finding GOOD friends becomes much harder though. All you start to want as you get older are people who you can fully be yourself with, and who will bring you up instead of drag you down.

I can tell that you are someone who fits that criteria for your friends.

For myself at least, I'm glad I can be myself with you without being judged. You've never inquired as to my background, my gender, or anything much really and yet you do show signs of care and concern, offering to send me care packages multiple times throughout the years. You've also listened and replied to my rants when I have been at my lowest points. Thank you for that by the way.

As I mentioned last time, you are one of the very few people in my life whom I wish I could swap lives with for a bit. And I don't say that out of a place of envy or anything but rather I know that If I were to follow in your footsteps so to speak, that I'd inevitably be successful one day.

That might be a roundabout way of saying that I know YOU are going to be successful.

I admire your work ethic. I admire the fact that you've worked for most everything you have the past half decade. We joke about you needing a sugar daddy but something tells me that even if you had one, you wouldn't be happy for long. You're too driven to just lie around all day. No sooner than later you'd be coming up with a business plan for a pilates club or juice bar. (I could be wrong though)

Lowkey I'm kinda glad I never took you up on goin out to Sound Bar or anything. I'm glad we never formally hung out in college. Sorta like 김치 (aha, you were wondering what the heck that was about) I think it's more fitting that we get to know eachother a bit more now that we're more mature and kinda know who we are.

I don't know about you but for me this is one of the most unconventional friendships I've had, period. In constant communication for almost a decade, only having met twice or thrice, and not really knowing too much about eachother but still having a sense of care for one another. Going from being an hour-ish apart from one continent to being an hour-ish apart on this continent. We're like modern day pen pals and I think that's pretty cool.

Before I left the other day the last thing you said to me was to check in with you alot now that I'm here. I'll try. Like I said at our age, you start to only care about having a few good people rather than alot of average people.

And you are definitely good people.

You lumped me in with Sara which I thought I really haven't deserved yet. Cause I haven't really done much for you honestly. Though now that I'm here I look forward to being able to do more and to actually be a friend rather than a pen pal.

I'm thankful that in the little time we had you were able to share some stuff with me. I learned a lot about you in that little timeframe believe it or not. In the coming year I hope I get to learn alot more. And if you ever wanna know anything about me, just ask. I'm an open book.

Some of my favorite things about you so far : love your gummy smile, it's the best. Love how direct and straightforward you are. It's almost uncomfortably blunt at times but definitely preferred. Love how considerate and courteous you are.

Some things I'm curious about: What's something you can talk about and never get bored of? What do your tattoos mean, if anything? What brands fill your closet the most? How many best friends do you have? What makes them your best friend?

Lookit I wish every good thing happens for you. I hope you make partner, and achieve every career goal you set. I hope you find the guy of your dreams who checks all of your boxes without compromise. I hope your health miraculously gets better. I hope your family are all happy and healthy. Literally I just want you to be happy, and I want you to not ever have to feel like happiness awaits in the future. Ya know what I mean? Not when you've got the position or the house or the car or the man but now. And if you ever struggle with that, do let someone know. Let me know.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday. I am honored to have been able to have wished you in person, even if a bit early. Glad I got to finally get you something other than autoshipped flowers. I look forward to spending more time with you this year! Im thinking your next birthday, for our 10 year frienniversary we could probably do something special if you wanted. Maybe a trip to a resort island or something, anything! My treat of course

was not kidding about the gay best friend part

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starillion · 2 years ago

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curufin's speech at nargothrond. remember me posting this a couple months ago? yeah its the same thing except its in quenya too lol. i feel like a grammar criminal over here TT

Ai, lier Nargothrondon! Alta ar antara arda sina ná. Carna ar netyaina ar varna malyanten ar manyanten yando. Melinyes ve lya-aran melis, hya cenasit ná entë lá ve sí ceninyë. Quetes ya násë meldolva, mal polin cenë titta estel yanna cé tulyas ve. Qui hehtalvë i tië ya avárië ve, ma nalvë manwa envéla Moringotto?

Ecénien yar lóci ar yelwa urqui Angamandon polir carë. Ecéniel sa yando. Ma sí lavuvalyë i imyar umbarti lantar melda arda sinanna? Rúnyari lócion or i mindoni ar mári ar hroar mosselvaron, epta i anveryar neri aityaina epë i andondi Angamandon? Uminyë quetë þoryalëo. Mal qui mo manyuva lenda ambarto sina - rá Silmarillin yar úquen hequa nossenya nar lertainë haryar, mana nauva i rúþë cotumolvo?

Á menë sí, qui merelyë hilyë aranelya qualmenna. Á menë, qui merelyë auta marelya, parna i kotumonna. Á menë, qui merelyë. Equétien.

Ah, peoples of Nargothrond! Great and lofty is this realm. Built and adorned, protected by thy hands, and mine also. I love it as thy king does, or perhaps even more I now deem. He claims to be wise, saving our peoples from the northwards threat! Yet he will forsake his realm for a man! Beren son of Barahir claims to be our friend, but I can see little hope where he may lead us. If we abandon the way that has kept us safe, then are we ready to meet again in battle Morgoth? I have seen what the worms and foul orcs of Angband can do. This ye have seen also.

Will you let the same fates fall upon this beloved kingdom now? Red flames of drakes upon the towers and homes and the bodies of our kindred, as the bravest are beaten before the very gates of Angband? I do not speak of cowardice. But if any give help to this doomed quest - for the Silmarils none but my kin may claim, how dreadful shalt be the wrath of our enemy?

Stand forth now, if you wish to escort your king to his death. Stand forth, if you wish to leave your home bare against the enemy. Stand forth if you would! I have spoken.

#curufin #tolkien #silmarillion #silm shitpost #my writing #feanorians #sons of feanor #nargothrond #beren erchamion #finrod felagund #quenya

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zelenacat · 3 years ago

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When We Were Young- Chapter 27- An Obitine Story

The first place Satine checked was her bedroom, it was empty save for a note. The Duchess fell to her knees and wailed. She pulled at her hair, threw chairs across the room, paced, Obi-Wan found her in her quarters an hour later.

“Satine!”

“Maul took them,” the Duchess’ throat was raw, “he took our four eldest.”

Obi-Wan froze for half a second.

“Mandalore was attacked, we should get you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving until my people are safe,” Satine stood, “I have speeches to make.”

“Satine-”

“Come with me,” the Duchess ordered, “some things will leave with you.”

Servants moved out of her way when she passed, but Satine didn’t care how terrible she looked. Stalking over to the safe, Satine opened it and pulled out her children’s birth certificates, a bag of kyber crystals, and a tiara from King Zagreus the Second of Zygerria.

“These should be brought back to coruscant,” Satine swallowed, “guard them as you would guard Jynn and Lyra.”

The Jedi opened his mouth to speak, but Satine hushed him with a kiss.

“Jynn and Lyra may one day be all you have left.”

And with that, Satine left, walking briskly and then running once she rounded a corner. First she found Parna, who led her to where the servants were hiding. Satine freed them.

“Go home to your families,” she announced, “they will want to know you’re safe.”

Parna organized the guards to help escort people home, while Satine looked for the Prime Minister. Jaru Djarin was sitting up against the wall, locked in her office, with her eyes closed.

“Jaru,” Satine whispered, growing louder, “Jaru are you alive?”

“Satine,” the Prime Minister mumbled, “come.”

The door opened and the Duchess stepped inside, it smelled awful, like the kind of place rats lived.

“I need you to help me broadcast a speech.”

Jaru sighed, “Help me up.”

The Duchess and her Prime Minister limped through the empty castle, every move of theirs was as loud as thunder rumbling.

“What will we say?” Jaru’s garbled voice questioned.

Satine groaned, she hadn’t thought much about that.

“Mandalore has been used and deliberately attacked with no provocation,” the Duchess found herself saying into the camera, “we have no choice but to join with the Republic and defend ourselves. Please stay in your homes until we are able to address you again, thank you.”

After the camera cut off, Satine made her way to the landing, where a battalion of clones were stationed under Ahsoka, who felt her presence immediately.

“Momdalore!”

Satine collapsed into the Padawan’s arms.

“I heard,” Ahsoka whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you here?” Jaru asked a clone.

“Protection,” he answered.

Satine straightened, “The Prime Minister and I are grateful for your help, please make sure our curfew is enforced.”

“You heard the Duchess,” Ahsoka commanded, “go keep Mandalore’s citizens safe, I will stay with the Duchess and her Prime Minister.”

Ahsoka helped Satine and Jaru to a conference room and then retrieved the Duchess’ comm device.

“Call Countess Wren,” Satine sighed, “we should start with her.”

Ursa was stone faced until she was informed that Tristan had been taken, then, she broke down into tears.

“We’ll keep our district safe, Satine,” Alrich Wren promised, “just make sure he’s alright.”

“I will.” the Duchess promised.

Then the Counts and Countesses of Mandalore were called, all of whom had heard the news and prepared for the defensive.

“Satine?”

Bo-Katan, who stood in the doorway, grimaced when the Duchess looked up. Ventress behind her made a disgusted sound.

“They were taken by your replacement,” Satine growled, “you should help get them back.”

“Who?” Jaru asked.

A beat of silence followed.

“Korkie and his friends.” Bo answered.

The Prime Minister put her face in her hands, “Dear God.”

“The pirates and bounty hunters need to be paid.” Ventress added.

Satine stood, “Sloppy business not paying them in advance.”

Bo-Katan’s eyes narrowed.

“We don’t have any money in the budget for this.” Jaru mumbled.

“Palace defense?” Ventress suggested.

The Prime Minister shook her head.

“I’ll pay them,” the Duchess decided, “out of pocket. I need to call the bank.”

The bank began converting the required amount of credits into cash, and after a quick signature, Bo-Katan and Ventress took over the distribution.

“Your Grace?”

“She was taken,” Satine frowned, without looking up, “Mara and the others were taken. I’m sorry, Boba.”

“Well,” the bounty hunter’s voice changed, “what’s being done to bring her back?”

Satine swallowed, “I’ll ask the Jedi Council for help, now that we’ve officially joined their side it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I want to help.”

“I want everyone to help.” Satine countered.

Boba Fett knelt down.

“Your Grace,” he whispered, “we’ll get your children back.”

“Of course we will,” Satine agreed, “help me stand, Boba.”

He did and the Duchess sent him to find Khaami and Parna.

“Hello, Duchess.”

“Master Yoda,” Satine sobbed, “Darth Maul has taken my children.”

“Hm,” the Jedi stroked his beard, “bad this is.”

“Please help me get them back.” Satine begged.

“Do you know where he’s taken them?” Master Windu asked.

“No, he just said in his note that this was retribution.”

“He left a note?” Master Mundi inquired.

Satine nodded.

“Why didn’t you leave with the Jedi transport?” Master Windu questioned.

“I can’t leave my people.” Satine responded.

Master Yoda thought.

“Obi-Wan has our most important possessions,” Satine offered, “and the kyber crystals from Concordia.”

“Study those, we shall,” Master Yoda stated, “but meditate on this problem, I must.”

“Master Yoda?”

The Jedi looked to the Duchess.

Satine’s voice broke, “My children are all I have.”

Master Yoda nodded and the comm line went quiet.

“Satine?”

The Duchess turned her head as Parna entered.

“Let’s get you ready to face the public.”

Parna was gentle and kind, helping her lady shower and dress. Then she brushed her hair and braided it.

“Your locks are growing out again.” Parna observed.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.”

Parna tilted Satine’s head upward.

“I know it’s hard without the children, but the Jedi will help.”

“If Master Yoda consents to.” the Duchess countered.

“He has a soft spot for you, I’m sure.”

Ahsoka poked her head in.

“Momdalore,” Ahsoka began, “there are cameras here to see you.”

“It figures,” Satine mumbled, “they need to know.”

“There,” Parna announced, “finished.”

Satine looked at the braid in her hair, it came down to her shoulders. Her face was pallard and her eyes gaunt.

“Momdalore?”

“Escort me.”

The walls were lined with servants all whispering, none of them stopped when Satine passed, and that was what worried the Duchess most. At least some of them had the sense to curtsey.

“Her Grace, the Duchess of Mandalore.”

Satine stepped out onto the foyer and took a seat at the place that had been set up for her. Ahoska stood at her side.

It took a second for Satine to remember why she was there, “Questions?”

One brave reporter stood.

“We know the Count betrayed us and we have allied with the Republic, but what happened in the chaos of the palace last night, and what happened to the weather monitor?”

Satine almost spilled all her secrets at that moment, but fortunately Ahsoka spoke.

“Count Dooku tried to frame the Duchess and kill her, the audio recordings have been released.”

In the stunned silence, Satine cleared her throat.

“My nephew and his friends, including Tristan Wren, were taken as prisoners by the count’s apprentice,” she swallowed, “we have asked for assistance from the Jedi.”

The room burst into noise but Satine couldn’t hear anything.

“Let’s get you out.” Ahsoka whispered.

Parna helped Satine stand while Ahoska quieted the room for a couple minutes more.

“You need sleep,” Parna whispered, “rest.”

Up in her room, Padme commed Satine.

“We saw your broadcast,” she smiled sadly, “Master Yoda has agreed to send a rescue party.”

Satine burst into tears.

“Jynn and Lyra want to see you.”

Wiping her eyes, Satine saw her daughters in Padme’s arms, asleep.

Satine swallowed, “They’ve gotten so big.”

“Five months.” Padme commented.

“Five whole months.” the Duchess nodded.

Lyra sighed, Jynn gurgled.

“Your Lady Mother misses you.” Satine whispered.

“They miss their mother too,” Obi-Wan frowned, coming into view, “some days they won’t sleep at all.”

“Who is in the rescue party?” Satine found the courage to ask.

“Multiple of Tyra’s Padawan friends,” Obi-Wan answered, “Quinlan, Master Mundi, and Anakin.”

“Not you?”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Maul hates me, if I go, it would give him an excuse to kill the children in front of me.”

Satine gave a shaky breath.

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Obi-Wan braced a smile, “we’ll get them.”

Satine nodded, hoping with her whole heart that was true.

“You just rest,” Padme commented, after a silence, “you look like you need it.”

“I do.” Satine agreed.

The Duchess slept till evening when the comm call finished. By the time Parna woke her, she was informed that the heads of the eight clans were all here requesting a meeting.

“And Khaami is going to stay with her family,” Parna added.

“Good,” Satine sat up, “help me with my hair.”

In front of the throne sat a circle of chairs. Count Awuad, Countess Bralor, Countess Eldar, Count Mudhorn, Count Rook, and Countess Saxon were all present. Count Vizsla’s father, Tarrei, had joined Death Watch a month ago, Satine had almost forgotten. What Satine was not expecting to see was Alrich Wren leading his clan.

“My wife is unwell with the news of our son,” he explained at Satine’s question, “she’s miserable.”

“This is a terrible crime,” Count Mudhorn growled, “you would think Tarrei-”

“Death Watch assisted us last night.” Satine frowned, unable to hear anything negative about Bo-Katan.

“Yes,” Countess Bralor nodded, “because they wanted the Count, when the Jedi took him they were upset they didn’t get shots at him.”

“However, Asajj Ventress spat in his face.” Countess Saxon remarked.

“The Count, Dooku, I mean,” Satine began, “said he had friends in Death Watch, my guess is it would be Vizsla.”

“That would make sense,” Count Awuad agreed, “my spies just told me that your sister might face mutiny.”

Satine sighed, “That would be unfortunate.”

“It would, but there is more news,” Count Awuad straightened, “the Vizslas now believe that the children taken belong to you.”

The Duchess went stoic as stone.

“A dangerous rhetoric if true,” Countess Eldar prodded.

“But there is no need to worry about that then,” Satine forced a smile, “I have no children.”

“No,” Count Rook agreed, “but he did take Mandalore’s heir.”

Satine’s comm rang, it was the Jedi Council.

“We have decided upon our rescue party.” Master Windu announced to the room, “three Jedi Masters, will accompany five padawans to save the children.”

“That seems like a large group.” Countess Eldar observed.

“It is needed,” Master Mundi responded, “I will be leading the effort, which will take place on Mustafar.”

Satine grew cold.

“Mustafar?” Alrich Wren asked.

“Yes,” Master Secura nodded, “that is where the children have been taken.”

The room silenced, a fire planet known for cruelty.

“Is the Count proving useful?” Countess Saxon asked.

“He is.” Master Windu did not elaborate.

“Padawan Tyra, the one you sent here for protection who has now been captured,” Satine began, “informed me that Count Dooku’s Master has a son. His name is Je’er, and his mother is Oana Shields of Harran, from Naboo.”

“Interesting this is,” Master Yoda spoke, “good spy, Padawan Tyra is.”

That brought Satine some comfort at least, knowing that the Jedi had faith in her daughter's skills.

“The rescue party will leave tomorrow,” Master Secura offered, “you may rest easy on that.”

“Thank you,” the Duchess swallowed, “Mandalore looks forward to helping you more in the future.”

“Now,” Count Awad sighed, “for our Death Watch problem.”

It was decided that if Sabine Wren had any connections left to Death Watch, she should use them. Ursa loathed to let another child leave her, and therefore made her husband go with their daughter.

Satine spent the next few days organizing an optional armed force regiment, with incentives to join, of course. She also met with food experts to talk about rationing and spoke with the Head of Mandalorian Trade.

The Duchess was in a meeting with her seamstresses about reducing fabric consumption when Parna burst in.

“Satine!”

The Duchess stood, sensing important news.

“Padawan Tyra is in the med bay.”

Satine ran to the make-shift hospital in the palace, she was glad to see both Hera and Doctor Quial present, but gasped when she saw their patient.

“Your Grace,” Khaami whispered, appearing at her side, “please sit down.”

Shaking violently, Satine fell into a chair and began to sob.

“Your Highness?”

Satine swallowed and looked at the boy standing in front of her, “You must be Je’er.”

He nodded and knelt before Satine.

“Your Grace, I’m sorry I couldn't free the rest of your children,” he began, his voice low, “but they are all kept separate, and I couldn't let harm come to Tyra.”

Satine glanced over at her daughter, “What happened?”

“My father electrocuted her,” Je’er did not lower his eyes, “she has second degree burns, but she will live.”

Satine fell forward and hugged the boy.

“Thank you, Je’er, thank you so very much.”

Je’er breathed a sigh of relief.

“If it’s alright to ask, will you help me get to Coruscant, I need to testify in front of the Jedi Council?”

“Of course,” Satine stood, “do you need food, water?”

Je’er winced, “Sleep, first.”

“Khaami,” the Duchess turned, “give this young man a nice room.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Satine then stepped into a quiet conference room and called her favorite Jedi.

“Obi?”

“Satine, I-”

“I have the Sith Lord’s son, he rescued Tyra,” Satine blurbed, “he wants to testify in front of the Council.”

“Good, this is,” Master Yoda spoke, “collect him tonight, Master Kenobi will.”

Satine blushed, realizing that Obi-Wan was likely in a meeting, “Thank you, Master Jedi.”

Once she hung up, the Duchess came back to her seamstresses, whom Parna was entertaining.

“Good news, Your Grace?” Waldie asked.

Satine finally allowed herself to smile, “Wonderful news.”

“That’s needed in these times.” a seamstress ventured.

“I agree,” the Duchess nodded, “Parna, I think we can repurpose some of my old gowns.”

The Lady nodded, “Should I bring some of the older ones down?”

“Please.”

Khaami came in as Parna left.

“A word, Satine?”

They made their way halfway towards the landing pad before Khaami spoke.

“I posted Gorg outside his room.”

“Protection?”

“Or in case of aggression.” Khaami answered.

“My Ben is coming to collect him,” Satine bounced on her heels, “he’ll be here tonight.”

Khaami grinned, eyeing her lady evilly, “You’re so giddy around him, you always have been.

The Duchess blushed, “Sometimes I still feel like we’re seventeen.”

Khaami snorted, “Yes, with six children.”

Satine sighed, “If Master Qui-Gon would’ve known we would have six children, he would’ve made our lives hell.”

“In a loving way, I’m sure.”

“Most definitely.” the Duchess agreed.

When Obi-Wan finally arrived, Satine was with Tyra in the med bay. She had woken up and was talking, but she had painful-looking white bulbs all over her arms and legs.

“At least I still have my hair.” Tyra joked with a wince.

“I’m just glad you’re safe, baby girl.” Satine smiled, “you know, it was a wonderful surprise when you were born.”

Tyra’s eyes watered, “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Satine placed her hand in Tyra’s, “I joked that I made such a mess I would need two towels.”

“But you really did need two.”

“What a lovely story.”

Satine turned and threw herself into Ben’s arms.

“It’s good to see you too, Darling.”

The Duchess kissed her Jedi until Tyra groaned.

“Uh, Dad, Lady Mother, I’m right here?”

Obi-Wan came to inspect his daughter, frowning at her injuries.

“Be nice to Je’er, Daddy,” Tyra warned, “he’s my boyfriend.”

Ben blanched, “A Sith-spawn?”

“Obi, he saved her life.”

The Jedi sighed, “Alright, Tyra, for you.”

Satine led Obi-Wan to where Je’er was sleeping. The poor child was thrashing in his sleep.

“Je’er!”

Obi-Wan gently shook the boy awake.

“You’re Master Kenobi.”

“I am.”

Je’er swallowed, “My father’s name is Sheev Palpatine.”

The room grew heavy with silence, and boils appeared on Je’er’s skin.

“Stay calm,” Obi-Wan ordered, “stay calm and they’ll go away.”

It worked.

Satine’s head spun, “Sheev? The Chancellor of the Galactic Senate, a Sith Lord?”

“We’ve been suspicious for a long time,” Obi-Wan explained, “but we’ll need this boy’s testimony, and his blood.”

“Take him then,” Satine urged, “quickly.”

Once Obi-Wan left, the Duchess stood staring at the sky for a minute longer. Her children were out there somewhere, three of them imprisoned. That Sith Lord was terrible, keeping them separate from one another. What did he want from them?

“Satine,” Khaami appeared, “I have the Prime Minister on the phone.”

Jaru Djarin suggested that Satine go to parliament and speak to the lords, because, as usual, they were very disgruntled and consumed by nonsense.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” Satine assured, “will you come with me?”

“Unfortunately,” the Prime Minister sighed, “I’m giving a press conference just as parliament begins.”

Satine nodded, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

Satine was in a fitting for tomorrow’s event, an old court dress reminiscent of Queen Mara’s style, only in Kryze colors, when she asked Waldie what time it was.

“Six in the evening.”

Satine said nothing, but her stomach rumbled.

“Your Grace?”

The Duchess lowered her eyes, “I forgot to eat today.”

“Forgive me, Satine,” Waldie began, “put you’ve lost much weight since the Count’s first visit.”

“Stress.” the Duchess sighed.

Waldie swallowed, accepting the answer even though she didn’t want to.

“Should I have Parna bring food to your room?” a seamstress questioned.

Satine hesitated, “A light dinner please, it would be good for me.”

Khaami came to retrieve Satine when her fitting was over.

“I just talked to Gorg,” she whispered, “he’s filing for retirement.”

“Now,” Satine gasped, “but-”

“I know he knows,” Khaami’s voice was low and understanding, “but he has been unwell even though he’s physically healthy.”

“PTSD?” Satine asked.

“He’s been having nightmares in the barracks,” Khaami frowned, “he’s terribly embarrassed.”

The Duchess balled her fists, “That God-awful Count and his apprentice!”

Khaami agreed, “I just wanted you to know.”

“I’d love to honor him somehow, a pension perhaps,” Satine decided, “seeing as he doesn’t like big events.”

The lady smiled, “That’s a good idea.”

“Come with me,” Satine hooked her arm through Khaami’s, “I need someone to make sure I eat.”

Parna was laughing with Jaym outside Satine’s door when the Duchess and her lady arrived.

“What’s this?” Khaami grinned.

Parna snorted, “Jaym has a strange sense of humor.”

“Does he?”

“Apparently,” Jaym shrugged, “most people don’t think I’m funny.”

Parna grinned, “You’re hilarious, Jaym.”

Satine turned to Khaami and raised her eyebrows.

“If you like, Your Grace,” she began, “I could make preparations for what we discussed and Parna could eat with you.”

“I would love that.” the Duchess replied.

Satine ate cheese and bread that night, the whole platter that was offered to her.

Parna patted the Duchess’ head, “Good girl, Satine.”

“Thank you.” Satine replied with a giggle.

“Should I help you dress for bed?”

“Please, Parna.”

As Satine lay in bed that night, she had no idea what was going on somewhere else in the galaxy, on Mustafar. Obi-Wan had commed her saying he and Je’er had made it, but when the Jedi Council come out of a meeting to find Mara Supreis and Tristan Wren in the med wing, along with three of the five padawans.

#fanfiction #fanfic #the clone wars #Duchess Satine #satine kryze #satine x obiwan #obi wan x satine #obi wan kenobi #obitine #korkie kryze #korkie kenobi

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dragoni · 5 years ago

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Lev Parnas released the damning audio #LevSpeaks

This is exactly why #MidnightMitch McConnell and Republicans refused to allow any new witnesses or evidence. #RiggedTrial #RepublicanCoverUp

It was Trump who told his officials including Parnas not to testify, to DISOBEY their subpoenas from the U.S. House of Representatives.

After being thrown under the bus, Parnas wants to testify. CALL YOUR SENATORS: (202) 224-3121. Demand Witnesses & Documents #LetLevSpeak

The recording appears to contradict statements by President Trump and support the narrative that has been offered by Parnas during broadcast interviews in recent days. Sources familiar with the recording said the recording was made during an intimate April 30, 2018, dinner at the Trump International Hotel in Washington, D.C.

At another point, the recording appears to capture Trump praising his new choice of secretary of state, saying emphatically: “[Mike] Pompeo is the best.”

But the most striking moment comes when Parnas and the president discuss the dismissal of his ambassador to Ukraine.

Parnas appears to say: "The biggest problem there, I think where we need to start is we gotta get rid of the ambassador. She's still left over from the Clinton administration,"

Parnas can be heard telling Trump. "She's basically walking around telling everybody 'Wait, he's gonna get impeached, just wait."

"Get rid of her!" is what the voice that appears to be President Trump’s is heard saying. "Get her out tomorrow. I don't care. Get her out tomorrow. Take her out. Okay? Do it."

In a recent interview with MSNBC, Parnas publicly recounted his memories of the scene at the dinner and said that Trump turned to John [DeStefano], who was his deputy chief of staff at the time, and said "Fire her,"

“We all, there was a silence in the room. He responded to him, said Mr. President, we can't do that right now because [Secretary of State Mike] Pompeo hasn't been confirmed yet, that Pompeo is not confirmed yet and we don't have -- this is when [former Secretary of State Rex] Tillerson was gone, but Pompeo was confirmed, so they go, wait until -- so several conversations he mentioned it again.“

"Boy I'm so powerful I can intimidate the entire Ukrainian government. Please don't tell anyone I can't get the crooked Ambassador fired or I did three times and she's still there.” Rudy Giuliani messaged Parnas in May 2019.

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marchagainsttrump · 5 years ago

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Trump, secretly recorded, at an intimate dinner with Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman, speaking about US Ambassador Marie Yovanovitch: "Get rid of her! Get her out tomorrow. Take her out. Okay? Do it." // Parnas later stated they had to wait until Mike Pompeo replaced Rex Tillerson as Secretary of State. - [ https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/recording-appears-capture-trump-private-dinner-ukraine-ambassador/story?id=68506437 ]

#MarchAgainstTrump #March Against Trump #Against Trump #Donald Trump #President #Trump #secretly recorded

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dendroica · 5 years ago

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A recording reviewed by ABC News appears to capture President Donald Trump telling associates he wanted the then-U.S. ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch fired while speaking at a small gathering that included Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman -- two former business associates of Trump’s personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani who have since been indicted in New York. The recording appears to contradict statements by Trump and support the narrative that has been offered by Parnas during broadcast interviews in recent days. Sources familiar with the recording said the recording was made during an intimate April 30, 2018, dinner at the Trump International Hotel in Washington, D.C. Trump has said repeatedly he does not know Parnas, a Soviet-born American who has emerged as a wild card in Trump’s impeachment trial, especially in the days since Trump was impeached. "Get rid of her!" is what the voice that appears to be Trump’s is heard saying. "Get her out tomorrow. I don't care. Get her out tomorrow. Take her out. OK? Do it." On the recording, it appears the two Giuliani associates are telling Trump that the U.S. ambassador has been bad-mouthing him, which leads directly to the apparent remarks by the president. The recording was made by Fruman, according to sources familiar with the tape.

'Take her out': Recording appears to capture Trump at private dinner saying he wants Ukraine ambassador fired - ABC News

#Ukraine #politics

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klbmsw · 5 years ago

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“Lordy, there are tapes”! AND, not only does Nancy’s House have them, but so does the SDNY court. Goody. And while the Rolling Stone Article is from November, Parnas couldn't speak about this until the Articles of Impeachment were handed over to the Senate, or so I read.

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theglassdragoncollective · 7 months ago

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Jinue took so much psychic damage to being flirted with. I don't think he'll ever recover.

#parna speaks #jinue #the escapees

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trashpandaorigins · 5 years ago

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The Body Keeps the Score Chapter 8 Realizations

You said it yourself bitch, we're the Guardians of the Galaxy." Gamora is finally a part of something. But the past always follows you, eats at you and she must come to grips with her deeds as she tries to build a future. Meanwhile Rocket has never cared much for anyone or anything. Together the two of them discover they are more alike than different and try to heal themselves by befriending the other.

*Content Warnings: Mentions of child/animal abuse, trauma, character death, physical torture/pain*

Title of this fic is taken from the book of the same title "The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma," by Bessel van der Kolk

But now it's just another show

You leave 'em laughing when you go

And if you care, don't let them know

Don't give yourself away

---

I've looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

-Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now

Gamora huffed, rolling and felt the vibration of her blade against Drax’s collide with a cutting force.

“You’re using too much force,” she instructed, doding another blow and swinging her sword around hitting the tattooed man with the blunt edge of the blade across his side. He grunted and rushed at her once more, one knife arching upward, the other coming around the left in what would’ve been a deadly motion had she not had the time to backstep, blocking the descending blade with the protective metal guards affixed to each forearm. Out of the corner of her eye, Peter sat watching the two of them, captivated.

“I thought you were a destroyer man,” he muttered between bites of chips. “But Gamora is really kicking your butt here.”

Drax frowned and made another attempt to swipe at her from behind but she ducked, grabbing his wrist and twisting it, just enough to surprise him. He dropped the knife on reflex and snatched it before it hit the ground.

“I am not surprised,” Drax responded unphased. He jerked his arm out of her grip in one practiced move. “She is a most noble fighter. Perhaps better than I and certainly better then you Quill.”

The human in question nodded, rifling through the crumbs of the chip bag. Gamora watched him with a small smile, he’s so goofy. So….

Something hard knocked against her hip. She reacted instantly, arching her sword above her head and bringing it down upon Drax, blunt end facing his neck. In the hold she used his own mass against him, sending him sprawling on the cold deck of the ship and kept a foot on his shoulder blades, the end of her sword poised just above the nape of his neck.

Go on, the fight’s not over until she begs for mercy. Nebula.

“Don’t….please...Gamora…,” those black eyes staring into her. Thano’s surveying the two of them like toys.

“Go on Gamora,.”

“Gamora….” a nervous glance towards their father. “Please ...you know what he’ll do to me.”

“Gamora! I said, I yield!” Drax laughs while he rolls over and only then does she remove the blade from his neck, her boot from his back. She eased up, coming out of a daze, shivering. But Drax’s large wide smile fills her narrow vision, extending a large rough hand. “That was a good match daughter of…..Gamora. I look forward to the day when I might best you.” She studied hand in front of her. Open and welcoming, ready to be held. Companionable. Trusting.

It was a good fight. A fair fight. Take his hand. She sheathed her sword, Nebula’s pleas echoing in her head. Thano’s gaze tearing into her.

“Y..you’re welcome Drax. Good match.”

He keeps his head open, expectant but Gamora settles for crossing her arms and nodding to him in what she hopes is a friendly enough gesture. The destroyer thankfully gets the hint and closes his palm into a fist. Sour shame wells in her stomach.

“Gggggrrt!” Groot shrieks from his pot, wiggling madly trying to dislodge himself from the soil. Gamora can’t help but grin and pats the little flora on the top of his head affectionately. Groot is safe. He's little, he can’t hurt me…..for now. Small wooden hands grasped her wrist so delicately she is afraid that if she moves, the little fingers will crack and snap. “Grrrttt!” He chirped, content.

“You and Drax should practice together more often,” Peter’s voice so close to her makes the hairs on the back of her neck raise in apprehension. She forces herself not to reach for her sword. But him standing behind her like that, in her blind spot. He could attack at any moment. Stop it, he will not attack you.

“He is too reckless, there is no deliberateness to his movements. Just reckless bloodlust.”

Peter only shrugged. She flinched, feeling the lightness of his fingers playing against her elbow.

“Sorry, I...I didn’t mean.”

“It’s alright,” Gamora reassured. The shame welling inside of her again. “I didn’t mean to,”

“You don’t have to apologize Gamora,” his warm eyes looked at her with possibility. He has a strange innocence about him.

“I am Groot!”

Gamora and Peter turned towards Groot in unified surprise. Peter was at the sapling’s side in an instant, picking up his pot with glee.

“Groot! Buddy you did it,” he beamed, “you talked!”

“I am Grooot!”

“Was that Groot?”

Drax popped his head into the room and bounded over Peter and the flora, wrapping his muscular arms around the two of them.

“At last! I knew you would soon begin your annoying phrase! Though your limited vocabulary is irritating, I am glad you are able to speak again!”

“I am Groot!”

“Someone get Rocket!”

Gamora’s lighted heart instantly plummeted,

“Peter I don’t think that’s a good….”

As if on cue the raccoonoid dove into the room.

Enhanced hearing, Gamora momentarily grumbled.

“Groot!” Drax let go just in time for the raccoonoid to vault up on the table and snatch Groot’s pot from Peter’s hands. “What did he say?!”

“What did he say?” Peter gauffed, “I’ll give you one guess.”

“Shut up Star-Shit,”

Rocket’s red eyes instantly went back to Groot, who babbled incoherently again.

Tell him, he has a right to know. Gamora bit her lip watching Rocket’s elated face beaming at Groot. She sucked a breath, searching uncomfortably for the words. It was a rare time when she did not know what to say, considering that her words had been a means of survival just as well as her weapons.

“Rocket,”

“I am Groot!” Groot shouted happily. The raccoonoid looked up at her with ….trepidation?

“What did he say?” Drax demanded.

“I am Groot, I am Groot!” The little flora tried to twist around, pointing with tiny fingers at the green woman.

“He….he said Gamora,” Rocket explained, confused. “Groot! Groot buddy, look at me! What’s my name?”

Gamora watched Groot ignore him and instead stare upward at her and Peter. “Groot!” Rocket barked, “man what’s my name?”

Groot’s silence held Gamora in a constricting hold, I should have told him sooner. He’d be better prepared.

“Groot!” Rockets claws twisted the pot around, his voice cracking in increasing desperation. “Groot! What is my name?”

Gamora’s heart raced, as Groot cocked his head to the side in blank confusion. Rocket’s ears flicked downward, chest deflating. She could not see his pupils for he had none, but she didn’t need to. The raccoonoid’s eyes widened, mouth agape. She looked away at the sight of his implants, sagging with his shoulders.

“Groot…..” begging. “Come on bud, please! Xandar remember?! The orb, that collector guy who was gonna turn you into a chair!” Rocket was trembling now, searching the flora’s face for any sign of recognition. She could feel Peter’s eyes on her.

“What’s going on?” He asked gently, though something in his tone told Gamora he already knew.

“Groot!” Rocket tried again, tears rimmed his eyes. “Halfworld!” He choked out, “getting free? That bounty on G’rva! The Lazy Rsket!” Pretty sure that’s a bar, Gamora remembered from researching her targets. Rocket shook the pot now, sending Groot swooshing along with it, Drax stepped forward only to be cut off by Peter’s warning hand. “The bounty of Zarflaktn! Groot! The...the labs...that prison break on Harmut!” Groot, giggled with the to and throw motion of the pot, waving his arms playfully in stark contrast to Rocket’s mounting fury. He’s barely holding it together. He’s going to snap. “You remember don’t you?! That...that time on Parnas…”

Gamora had not the slightest idea as to what “that time on Parnas,” was referring to, but whatever it was it was enough that Groot’s lack of acknowledgement was a devastating blow. Rocket drew backward, chest heaving.

“Rocket,” Peter dared step forward, “it’s it’s gonna be okay man. Groot’s just excited is all! It’s okay.” But the raccoonoid only stared at Groot, frozen. Breath rapidly accelerating to the point where Gamora wondered if he was in danger of passing out.

“Furry one, what is the matter?”

“G….groot…?” The tears behind Rocket’s leaked forward, his gaze unfocused. “Groot…”

“Rocket,” Gamora found her voice though it shook. “Breathe...Peter’s right. It will be alright, Groot’s just getting his words back.” The raccoonoid shook his head, fists clenched, body as tight as a bow string. She knew the posture. He was either going to snap and attack them or run. The raccoonoid glared at her through tears, for the second time. She realized with a start.

“Groot’s probably just tired,” Peter tried again with an heir of assurance that did nothing to assure. Rocket only shook his head, cybernetic bolts going up and down, pulling against his skin with a taunt cruelty Gamora knew too well. He let out a hiss at Groot’s attempts to reach for him, and took off out of the room, dashing on all fours.

“I ammm Grooo!”

Drax picked the little flora up, restraining him from his attempts to crawl after the raccoonoid.

Gamora planted her hands on her hips, turning from them back to the flight deck.

Beep beep beep, beep, beep, beep.

“Nebula’s ship,” Gamora raced to the cockpit, frantically looking through the windows up into the blackness beyond. Of course there was no actual telling if it was her ship. The tracker had fallen off, but she’d set up alerts for any ships that came within the radius of Rocket’s calculations.

“Is that ...?” Peter followed her gaze towards the small ship off the starboard side. Gamora swallowed, eyes feverishly scrutinizing the object as critically as she could. I thought I’d have more time ...a million thoughts raced through her mind.

“That’s her,” Gamora spun on her heel, sword in hand as she made a B-line for one of the escape pods.

“Wait, Gamora!” The grip on her hand made her stop, eyes bulging in predetermined fury.

“What?”

“We’ll come with you!”

“Absolutely not,” she shook off his grip in an instant. “It’s too dangerous.”

“We just saved Xandar!”

“Nebula’s worse,” Gamora glared, punching open the codes to the hatch that led to the pod.

“Just, gimme a second we’ll get trail her for awhile to make sure she doesn’t have backup and then fly the ship right up close in her blindspot as far as we can. We’ll disable her engines and force her to come out.”

“I appreciate it Peter, but I can’t risk that.”

He sighed, conceding to her without further argument.

“We’ll follow close behind, take a com control in case you need anything.”

She hopped into the pod, snatching one of the portable com controls and punched the release.

“Thank you.” She watched Peter’s face as the roof of the ship came sliding down, watching his careful eyes for as long as she could.

“Wait!” Peter dove, one arm grabbing the descending roof with a metallic groan.

“What?!”

“Just...be careful okay?”

Gamora sighed, touching his hand gently.

“I will,” she pried his grip off the ship. “Now let go.”

He relented and stepped back as the door shut, the pod released, shooting out after Nebula. Peter’s face looming in her mind. She tightened her grip around the steering grips, the stolen Xandarian ship still drifting slowly through the cosmos. As she neared, a smug smile lit her face.

Nebula, I never thought you’d be so foolish. You stole a courier ship. It bore no external weaponry. No cannons, no guns. Nothing. For now her sister was defenseless. I will not kill her. I’ll...I’ll make her see reason, take her back to our ship. I’ll talk to her. Just talk. She thrust the pod forward, glancing at the sword on her hip. Gamora swallowed the impulsive bloodlust, shame stirring in her gut.

#the body keeps the score fic #gamora #peter quill #drax the destroyer #nebula #rocket raccoon #groot #baby groot #Guardians of the Galaxy #gotg #my writing

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speedygal · 5 years ago

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Trump has said repeatedly he does not know Parnas, a Soviet-born American who has emerged as a wild card in Trump’s impeachment trial, especially in the days since Trump was impeached.

"Get rid of her!" is what the voice that appears to be President Trump’s is heard saying. "Get her out tomorrow. I don't care. Get her out tomorrow. Take her out. Okay? Do it."

#Donald Trump #news

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beatjackkerouac · 5 years ago

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gwydionmisha · 5 years ago

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#Lev Parnas #Rudy Giuliani #Donald Trump #Trump-Ukraine #News

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zelenacat · 4 years ago

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When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 20

As the lady left, Parna handed Satine her buzzing comm.

“It’s Ben.” the Duchess gasped.

“I’ll,” Parna practically ran, “be outside.”

Satine clicked to respond.

“Excuse me, Cody.”

The Duchess waited until she heard a door close.

“I know you must be furious-”

“Satine,” the Jedi interrupted, “I’m worried.”

“Honestly,” the Duchess confessed, “so am I.”

A knock graced the door and Khaami poked her head in.

“Celery?”

Satine grinned and took the plate, “Thank you, Khaami.”

The lady curtsied and left.

“Celery?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Cravings.” Satine answered.

“Ah,” the Jedi grew pensive, “how are they?”

Satine giggled, “Baby A is a fighter, she kept kicking during the meeting today.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yes, fortunately Baby B seems to like her beauty rest.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, “My girls.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Ben,” Satine began, “about our four eldest children-”

Obi-Wan frowned, “I assume they aren’t receptive to the idea of meeting me.”

“Circumstance will push them into your path,” Satine responded, trying to be kind, “but I’d love to tell you about them.”

“Oh?”

“Mara is the youngest of our grown ones,” Satine’s pictured the girl in her mind, “she has your hair and is quite convincing when it comes to the mind.”

The Jedi gaped.

“Come now, Obi,” Satine gestured, “you needn’t worry, she was raised by my lady’s brother.”

“What’s he like?”

Satine faltered, “A criminal.”

Obi-Wan began to cough, the Duchess laughed.

“She has a heart of gold, though, our Mara,” Satine smiled, “and I gave her access to the palace library, she’s told me archeology interests her.”

“A scholar?” asked the Jedi.

“No, Ben,” Satine shook her head, “that’s more Tristan, her twin brother.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes glowed, “What’s he like?”

“A studious future doctor who loves to enjoy life.”

The Jedi tilted his head at his Duchess, waiting for more information.

Satine sighed, “He and his brother once snuck down into the wine cellar, fortunately, we caught them.”

Obi-Wan snorted.

“It was his older brother’s fault though, Korkyrach.”

The Jedi whistled, “That’s a Mandalorian name.”

“Obi,” Satine scolded, “he’s our first born.”

Obi-Wan turned sheepish.

“Also,” the Duchess added, “we call him Korkie.”

The Jedi raised his eyebrows, “The Duke of Sundari?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

Obi-Wan blushed, “I’ve searched images of you and seen him in pictures close by.

Satine put a hand on her heart, “Aw.”

“He looks like my son.”

“Acts like it too,” Satine added, “he attends the Royal Academy of Government, and I’m sure you’ve heard about the time he convinced his friends to sneak out with him onto government property.”

“They had a noble cause.” the Jedi argued with a smile.

“And then,” the Duchess lowered her eyes, “there’s Tyra Satine.”

“What about her?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly worried.

“You may have seen her,” Satine flushed, “Quinlan’s padawan.”

Obi-Wan gaped.

“Vos,” he asked, “Vos has been responsible for raising my daughter?”

“Only one of them.”

The Jedi sighed, “I always felt her force signature was strange.”

Satine frowned, “So it’s possible to sense children, then?”

Obi-Wan understood immediately, “If Count Dooku visited you, he would likely feel the twins, yes.”

The Duchess took out her anger on a piece of celery.

The Jedi shook his head, “I can’t believe my daughter is a Republic Spy.”

“I heard about that,” Satine confessed, “does she do dangerous things?”

“Not as much as her Master,” Obi-Wan paused, “God. I have to thank him.”

The Duchess swallowed, “So you’re being traded for Master Fisto?”

There was a soft pleasantness in Obi-Wan’s voice, “Yes, two weeks and I’ll be back.”

“Wonderful,” Satine breathed, “that’s wonderful.”

The Jedi sighed, “I’m still upset you decided to keep this from me for nearly eighteen years.”

“It seemed like the right idea at the time,” Satine confessed, “I’m sorry, Ben.”

“How could it seem right?” Obi-Wan spat.

The Duchess sensed this would be a wound that would never close.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”

The Jedi leaned up against the wall, “That’s it.”

Satine kept a cool tone, “I’ve loved my children since the moment I knew they existed, and I’ve sacrificed so much so that they could live. Anything that would’ve jeopardized that, including telling you, was something I couldn’t afford to do.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, “I understand why you did what you did, but I don’t know if I will ever forgive you.”

“I expected as much.” Satine admitted.

After a moment, the Jedi stood upright.

“When can I meet the children,” he asked, “I want to see them all together, is that safe?”

“If Tyra comes to Mandalore with Quinlan,” Satine began, “then all our children will be within easy reach.”

“She’ll only come if Count Dooku decides to court you.”

Satine deflated.

“By the way,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “I don’t like this marriage scheme.”

“Honestly, neither do I.” the Duchess agreed.

The Jedi gestured wildly, “Then why?”

“To protect my people,” Satine sighed, grabbing a piece of celery, “we intercepted some of his operatives, he wants to take Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “So you want to give him another option first.”

“Yes.”

The Jedi frowned, “Do not underestimate Count Dooku.”

“I won’t,” Satine shook her head, “they say he’s cunning.”

“He’s almost bested me at times.” Obi-Wan confessed.

“Not you,” Satine gasped, “Anakin mentioned he complimented you once.”

Obi-Wan snorted.

“What?”

The Jedi raised an eyebrow, “Oh, so you talk with Anakin now, do you?”

“He and Pamde have,” Satine paused, “similar circumstances.”

“Children?”

“No,” the Duchess shook her head, “but they’re married-”

“What!”

“And Padme wants a few.”

Satine laughed at Obi-Wan’s gaff.

“It’s true,” she winked, “how do you think we get along so well?”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Ahsoka called you ‘Momdalore”’ in passing the other day.”

The Duchess grinned, “She asked me to my face if she could call me that.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “What a strange family we are.”

Satine felt hopeful, “Family?”

The Jedi didn’t shy away from the question, “Well what else would I call the mother of my children?”

The Duchess blushed, he had a point.

“Have you thought about names?” Obi-Wan asked out of the blue.

“I,” Satine paused, “I like two names.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.” the Jedi prodded.

“Lyra,” Satine smiled, “it’s an ancient constellation.”

“Beautiful.” whispered Obi-Wan, eyes shining.

“And,” the Duchess hesitated, “I was hoping to name the other one Jynn.”

Satine looked at her Jedi, he was at war with himself.

“If you don’t like it-”

“I love it,” Obi-Wan spurred, “but, could the connection be a problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her force signature,” the Jedi frowned, now serious, “it would be reminiscent of mine and yours.”

“I don’t know where she’ll be raised, Ben.”

Obi-Wan straightened.

“Obi,” Satine swallowed, “they can only live at the Temple if they manifest abilities. I can’t claim another false sibling. Mara had to be raised by a criminal for crying out loud!”

“Despite all this,” the Jedi forced Satine’s eyes to his, “and you still keep them?”

“I love every part of you I have,” the Duchess answered without hesitation, “I will always keep them.”

Obi-Wan reached out, as if to caress her cheek. Then flinched, realizing he couldn't.

“Two weeks.” Satine offered.

“Two weeks.” Obi-Wan repeated.

An unsure pause, hesitation.

“Sleep well, darling.”

“Goodnight, Obi.”

Duchess Satine awoke naturally the next morning, which was strange, because Parna or Khaami usually came to her.

“I really should see the Duchess.” urged the Prime Minister.

“I can tell her whatever is necessary.” Gorg replied.

“You are the Captain of the Guard, correct?”

“Yes.”

Whispers followed, then receding footsteps. Gorg knocked and poked his head in.

“The tabloids are having a field day,” his eyes finding her stomach, “Count Dooku announced his intentions to court you an hour ago. Also, your stepping down on the Council turned some heads.”

Satine groaned.

“Khaami has gone to greet Padawan Tyra, who the council decided to send only,” Gorg continued, “Parna called to have Korkie sent home for lunch and many Mandalorians aren’t pleased.”

The Duchess paled.

“I should also warn you that there are fears of violent demonstrations-”

“Stop,” Satine’s voice wobbled, “tell Parna to come to me immediately.”

The Duchess jumped out of bed and ran to her closet, searching for anything and everything white.

“My lady-”

“Help me dress,” Satine interjected, “quickly.”

Parna obeyed, and in ten minutes the Duchess had her corset tight and a simple gown over her head made of ivory lace.

“My hair should be pulled back,” Satine added, “let them see my face.”

“Of course.”

By the time Parna finished, Satine wondered if she had made a huge mistake, and voiced her concerns to her lady.

“You are doing what is right to protect Mandalore,” Parna assured, “the people will see that soon enough.”

The Duchess nodded and went in search of her Prime Minister, on the way, she found Khaami and Tyra.

“Your Grace,” the Jedi curtsied, speaking in Mando’a, “I am here for your assistance in anything you might need.”

A sob escaped Satine’s throat and she held out her arms. Tyra embraced her fully.

“A Padawan for protection,” Jaru Djarin observed, “let us hope this helps.”

“I will stay in the shadows,” Tyra frowned, “the Jedi Council would prefer I remain out of sight.”

“As would I.” the Prime Minister agreed.

Khaami cleared her throat.

“Your advisors are preparing a public response to the Count,” she stated, “and there’s a Press Conference scheduled food this afternoon.”

Satine nodded, naturally, these were all very good ideas.

“Perhaps we should set up a meeting with the clan leaders,” Prime Minister Djarin offered, “let them understand what is going on first hand.”

“Yes,” Satine agreed.

Jaru bowed, “I will get on that.”

“Khaami,” Satine turned, “I would like my nephew’s close acquaintance, Tristan Wren to be at the palace as well, can you make that happen?”

The lady curtsied, “Yes, Your Grace.”

The Duchess pulled Parna close.

“Ask your brother to come visit.” she ordered.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Parna nodded.

Satine smiled at Tyra, “Padawan, may I present my head guards, Gorg and Jaym.”

Tyra extended her hand, and said that she was happy to help protect the Duchess, in Mando’a, of course.

“A Mandalorian Jedi?” whispered Jaym, in awe.

“Please,” Satine was proud at her daughter’s graceful conduct, “call me Tyra.”

“Tyra.”

“Come now,” Satine instructed, “I have to meet with my advisors.”

Everyone around the table looked worried, even after they had prepared the answers to specific questions and given Satine an exact script to read from. Satine’s poll had also arrived. 40% of Mandalorians wanted to stay neutral, 50% disagreed and wanted to choose a side so they wouldn’t be affected, another 10% were unsure. They had an hour till the press conference.

“Perhaps the best way to hide your Padawan is in plain sight,” Prime Minister Djarin advised, “make her one of your ladies, have her follow you wherever.”

Satine gave a small smile, “I would like that.”

“Come, Padawan Tyra,” Parna stood, grinning, “I will help you change into clothing befitting a Mandalorian noblewoman.”

Tyra beamed, and Satine gave her a wink before they left the room.

“I suggest you eat something, Your Grace,” Khaami advised, “it’s been quite the day.”

“Yes,” Satine stood, “I would like that, thank you.”

After she ate, Parna returned with Tyra. The Duchess gasped when she saw her. Dressed in a navy blue dress cinched at the waist with a purple belt and her hair up in a braided bun, Satine thought her daughter looked like a princess. She was a princess.

“Lady Mother,” Tyra curtsied, grinning like a little girl, “how do I look.”

“Lovely, Daughter of Mine,” Satine answered in Mando’a, “simply lovely.”

Tyra embraced her mother and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m glad to be of service, Your Grace.”

“Come,” Satine grabbed Tyra’s hand, “we have a press conference to go to.”

As they walked, Khaami and Parna offered Tyra advice on how to behave in front of the cameras.

“Stand still and keep your face neutral,” Khaami advised, “you're only there for the Duchess.”

“And remember to address the Duchess as ‘Her Grace’ in the presence of strangers,” Parna winked, “secrets stay secrets.”

Tyra smiled, nodding.

“And don’t reach for your lightsaber.” Satine added.

Tyra patted her leg, “This dress hides everything.”

“Good.”

The Press room was large and bright, Satine blinked as she took her seat. Khaami, Parna, and Tyra stood behind her. The Prime Minister took a seat on Satine’s right, and one of her unlucky personal advisors sat on the left.

Then, the floodgates opened and voices mounted.

“Your Grace-”

“Your Grace, what-”

“Over here, Your Grace-”

An aide handed the Prime Minister a microphone.

“Quiet please,” Jaru thundered, “Her Grace will answer your questions in an orderly matter.”

The room shushed, and Satine pointed to a reporter in the front.

“We understand you polled the Mandalorian population on their war stances,” began the reporter, “what were those results and did they affect your decision to change your view on the war?”

Satine breathed in, “Our poll of the Mandalorian people indicated that they seem to believe neutrality is harming them, yet fighting is still an egregious offense that they rather not partake in.”

“The majority of our people,” Satine continued, “though not all, would like our country to choose a side. I do not wish to offend any of my people, however small a minority, but I feel that spearheading the Council of Neutral Systems should not be Mandalore’s priority in that sense. My personal thoughts on the war do not matter.”

The next reporter asked about which side of the war Mandalore would join if any.

“Mandalore will not pick a side until it is inherently clear that we prefer one side over the other.” Satine answered.

“How will Mandalore act in the meantime, then?” asked a third reporter.

“We will continue to operate as a neutral party interested in securing their needs, whoever is willing to offer them.”

It was an hour of diplomatic diverting until Count Dooku’s name came up.

“Like I said earlier,” Satine smiled tightly, “Mandalore will not pick a side until it is clear we, as a people, can unilaterally make that decision.”

“But will the Count be received by your court?” pressed the reporter.

The Duchess raised an eyebrow, “If he intends to come I shall not refuse him an audience, but that is his choice.”

An hour after the press conference ended, the Mandalorian Ambassador to the Seperatist Senate returned to Mandalore.

“The Right Honorable Count Dooku will come in two months” he stated, “there are arrangements he must make first.”

“Thank you,” Satine nodded, “continue to act as my voice in the Speratist Senate.”

“The Count also sent you a hologram to be reviewed at your leisure,” the Ambassador voiced carefully, holding out a device, “shall I give it to your ladies?”

“Please.”

Tyra stepped forward and was given the device, she then looked to the Duchess.

“My quarters.”

Tyra curtsied and left. Satine thanked the ambassador again, he bowed. Hera met Satine and her ladies upstairs in her personal parlor.

“Nurse Hera,” Khaami began, “this is Tyra, Satine’s newest lady, she knows.”

Tyra held out her hand, “Nurse.”

Hera shook it, “My lady.”

“I called you here,” Satine began, “because I am extremely nervous for this recording.”

Hera frowned, “Count Dooku.”

“Word travels fast.” Parna observed.

Satine sat down and patted the bed next to her for Tyra.

“I’m pressing play.” Khaami warned.

The Sith Apprentice’s blue form appeared. On Satine’s first judgement, she thought he was adequately handsome. Then she remembered he killed people for a living and frowned. Also, she had Obi-Wan.

“Dear Duchess,” the Count grinned slyly, “I was quite surprised to receive your message, though I was very sorry about poor Jaira Deere, I am happy you agreed to put that behind us and start anew.”

Tyra mimed vomiting.

“The Jedi will likely try to offer you something to counterbalance this action,” Count Dooku straightened, “but I can tell you they are going to lose the war soon, so I advise you not to accept whatever they think they can give you.”

“He’s on the verge of telling you something,” Tyra frowned, “but he doesn’t believe you are trustworthy yet.”

Satine raised an eyebrow at her daughter’s insight.

“I look forward to meeting you in two months, Duchess.”

A second passed, then two.

Satine sighed, “I am quite nervous about all this.”

“Don’t worry, Lady Mother,” Tyra kissed her mother’s cheek, “I’m really here to spy on the Count, and report back to the council, I’ll make sure you’re alright.”

“I don’t want you fighting a Sith Lord, Tyra Satine.” the Duchess confessed.

“It’s alright, Lady Mother,” Tyra smiled, punching the air, “it’s what I’ve been trained to do.”

Hera raised an eyebrow, “I suppose this is one of the ones you were about to tell me existed.”

“Lady Tyra is really the Duchess’ daughter,” Parna explained, “but that’s a secret.”

A knock pounded on the door.

“Your Grace,” Jaym opened the door, “the Duke of Sundari is here with Tristan Wren, and Lady Parna’s brother has come with his apprentice.”

“Well then,” Satine stood, “we’ll be right down.”

They met in the receiving room then headed out to the gardens.

“This is my new lady, Tyra,” the Duchess grinned, winking at her sons, “I’m glad you get to meet her.”

“Nice to meet you, Lady Tyra.” Korkie bowed.

“Same here,” Tyra commented dryly, “Your Grace.”

Tristan snorted.

“Come now,” Satine clapped, “I fancy a stroll through the gardens.”

Tyra and Mara linked arms, then pulled Tristan and Korkie into the fold.

“Children.” Parna grinned, her voice quiet.

Five minutes had gone by before an aide came running out.

“Your Grace,” she huffed, “the Jedi Council-”

Korkie audibly grunted.

“Are on the line.” the aide panted.

“I’ll be right there,” Satine eyed her children, especially Korkie, “do not enter when I speak to the Council.”

“Of Course, Your Grace.” Tyra curtsied, face low to hide her smile.

Parna and Khaami accompanied Satine to the meeting room, where the blue figures of the Jedi Council hovered mid-air.

“Good show, your press conference was.” Master Yoda declared.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” the Duchess nodded politely, “how may I help you?”

“According to info from Senator Amidala,” Master Windu began, “Count Dooku has contacted you personally.”

“He will be arriving in two months.” Satine answered.

“Two months,” Master Kenobi frowned, “he is likely testing you.”

“That is what Padawan Tyra suggested.” the Duchess added.

“Tyra is one of our best spies,” Master Ti stated, “would it be possible to have her assist some of our other friends from Mandalore?”

“She does have that network of hers.” Master Fisto added.

“Network?”

“The criminal friends she’s acquired,” Master Windu frowned, “on her business trips.”

Satine tried not to smile, Tyra Satine had much explaining to do.

“Is it safe,” Master Kenobi piped up, “to risk her identity. We’re counting on Count Dooku not knowing her.”

“Good point, KenobI has.” agreed Master Yoda.

“Perhaps a visit from Senator Amidala,” Master Fisto smiled, “Mandalore is quite fond of those.”

“We are.” The Duchess grinned.

With a loud bang, the Jedi Council doors burst open and a little blue figure swaggered in.

“I’m here because this involves my padawan.”

“You’re late.” Master Windu observed.

“But I came,” Quinlan Vos gestured, “here I am.”

Satine gestured to Parna.

“Bring Tyra.”

“If we may continue, Your Grace,” Master Ti spoke up, “perhaps a visit from a Senator may not bode well with our plan, perhaps sending a Mandalorian to Coruscant would be better.”

“I would suggest the Duke of Sundari,” Tyra grinned, entering the room with flair, “he’d love to go to Coruscant.”

“He could visit for a social call,” Satine agreed, “Senator Amidala is fond of Mandalorians.”

“The Duke of Sundari?” Master Fisto questioned.

“My nephew.” the Duchess clarified.

The Jedi Masters looked at eachother.

“A Mandalorian royal might turn some heads.”

“It should,” Satine stated, “we have ties to both sides now.”

“Look out for your nephew,” Master Yoda began, “we shall.”

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine nodded, “that is much appreciated.”

#Duchess Satine #satine kryze #obitine #satine x obiwan #obi wan kenobi #obiwan #korkie kenobi #jedi council

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