#receiving a scroll with news of a foreign war across the sea

[blackberrybuds]

no because what do you mean someone in the tetro server is still mocking kamimura for being a diaper user for medical reasons in our year 2025

[hellowkatey]

What are Men to Rocks and Mountains? Chapter 5

Rating: T | No warning apply | Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze

Summary: Obi-Wan was hoping for a day off. Satine finds she is being lied to.

Read it on AO3

Chapter 5: I Must Return

Rainy days on Coruscant are Obi-Wan's favorite. Though he is also fond of bright, sunny days when the light warms his skin and uplifts even the worst of moods, there is something comforting about the rainfall. He enjoys the evenness of it as it pangs against the transperisteel panes, rolling down in predictable manners. When it rains, Obi-Wan can be found in a meditation room connected to the Archives. It is not known by most and has the lovely feature of consisting of mostly windows.

This is where he heads now, a stack of coursework tucked under his arm. While he was elated to wake up to the soft pitter-patter of precipitation, there is something nagging at him as he walks the halls. Obi-Wan stares at the rain, trying to deduce what could possibly be throwing him off.

It is rain. Falling as gravity has deemed it to. But the more he stares the more he notices the rain has been thrown off-rhythm. The drops are not even in volume, which is giving a more chaotic sound to it all. As the Force moves through all things, the irregularity of the rain is making the Force seem just as off-balanced. Certainly not the tone he had hoped for, but perhaps the rainstorm will calm by the time he begins his studies.

Obi-Wan reaches a main artery of the Temple, which is swarmed with younglings. He has to twist and dodge the eager initiates as they travel in clusters, not caring to walk in any sort of orderly fashion. It is usually annoying when he is trying to get places, but he finds it quite amusing at his leisure. Obi-Wan remembers being that small himself, attached at the hip to his creche-mates and not caring about any random padawan moving through the Temple. Sometimes he misses those days. The monotony and his constant contact with his best friends were soothing. Obi-Wan took it for granted, wanting to reach his apprenticeship without realizing the things he was losing.

An initiate he recognizes from helping out with classes catches his eye, the humanoid boy flashing a toothy grin that seems to be missing a few parts. Obi-Wan smiles back, reaching down to ruffle the boy's hair as he passes, earning a squeal of delight. Obi-Wan chuckles, looking back at his pathing as he nears the entrance to the Archives.

As though the galaxy could not let him have his pleasantries, the Force whispers in his ear to look. Obi-Wan stops. Turning around he looks across the sea of younglings that has begun to thin, only to see a young woman standing out among them. Lady Satine is the spitting image of how Obi-Wan felt weeks ago arriving at her residence. Hair and clothing sopping wet, giving her as undignified a look as a lady such as herself could possibly achieve in public. He swallows hard. He hasn't seen her in over a week. Since the fundraiser. Does it bring him a small kind of satisfaction to see her so disheveled? Maybe so. But at the same time, for her to be in the Temple cannot be a good sign.

While he may want to just turn around and go about his day, Obi-Wan knows he can hardly do such a thing. He walks toward her slowly, becoming more and more aware of the distress in her face as he draws closer. Red-rimmed eyes follow his movement with an expression that is far less combative than he has ever witnessed on her slender face. Her skin is pale, dark circles under her eyes pronounced. And then he is standing but a meter away, and he realizes she is trembling.

"Lady Satine," he breathes, giving her a bow of respect. She hardly reacts. "Are you well?" He asks though it is very obvious she is not.

She swallows hard, staring through him for a moment before focusing her gaze and looking him in the eye. "I'm afraid I must ask for your help."

One day earlier

Satine sits quietly in her designated pod as the senate session progresses into its third hour. She sighs, wishing Bo or Kira or even Nel would have decided to attend with her. While usually, she shares her pod with senators of other nearby planets in the Mandalorian system, it seems the chancellor gave her special permission for a private seat due to her circumstances. His intentions are right, but quite frankly Satine is bored.

The senate affairs of today are not of any concern to Satine. They address issues that Mandalore has no claim in, and none are even to be put to a vote anyway. Tomorrow will bring another long session of senators yelling at one another while Mas Amedda attempts to keep peace and Chancellor Valorum tries to push a swift vote. Never dull in the senate chambers.

She scrolls through her datapad, reading some additional reports on Mandalore's status she requested from... less official sources. While Satine appreciates the data that Valorum has been so kind as to supply her with, they are mere numbers on a page. Like Nel said nearly a week ago, she is stuck in the bubble of Coruscant when she should be putting her time into figuring out how to end the civil war.

The thought of Nel makes her sigh. Their relationship as of late has been distant ever since the fundraiser. She tried once to bring up the argument, but he elected to just apologize broadly instead of actually discussing the things that were said. The more Satine considers his words, the more she is disillusioned with the man. While an agreeable fellow in his looks and physique, Satine feels like his intellect is unstimulating. He refuses to humor any conversation of deeper topics, particularly when they have to do with emotions. While their romantic future appears to have hit a stalemate, he did a good job of reminding her of her duty to Mandalore that she admittedly has not been putting enough time into.

Senator Tal Merrik sent her field journals over an ultra-secure network. He has been a mentor to Satine over the years, hailing from her home planet of Kalevala and being one of the few to visit her whenever he was in Coruscant. He has been deeply involved in the fighting-- more than most senators would be willing to do-- and had good intel.

She reads it carefully, taking in every horrifying detail. The cities that have been decimated. The death count on both sides. Clans are splintering, split between pacifism and tradition. It's the most honest account she has received thus far, and it pains her. Who can win a battle of war versus peace? The side of peace must fight for peace using war, though that is the direct opposite of the end goal. How can an example be made of a peaceful Mandalore when it is achieved in violent ways? Satine realizes she is clutching the datapad hard enough that her knuckles are white. She relaxes, tuning back into the senate meeting to try and calm herself down.

Thankfully, it seems the hearing is wrapping up. The chancellor has already descended and final announcements are being read. Satine looks down at her comlink to let Bo and Nel know that she is done, only to find a message waiting.

Went to grab food, be back in an hour -Nel.

She looks at the time received and groans. They won't be back for another forty-five minutes at least. "Deny Jedi security, Satine," she mocks to herself as she gathers her things. "We will be your security, Satine." Who was she kidding? Bo and Nel are good fighters, but battle is what they do best. Not security work. Even Kira is not made for the mundane duties of a bodyguard, but she is at least mature enough to handle it.

By the time she exists her pod, the hallways have all but cleared. A storm is predicted to roll in at night, so there is much less lingering than usual. Satine walks through the quiet passages of the rotunda, heading toward the elevators. She continues reading Merrik's report as she walks, hoping it will make her walk slower and time go faster.

I must tell you, Satine, the force of the New Mandalorians are wavering. The traditionalists have the advantage of their craft, and it is not an easy opposition to put up with in a peaceful manner. Especially with the tragic assassination of Duke Adonai Kryze-- to which I give my greatest sympathies in what must be your time of great grief-- I'm afraid we have reached a turning point in this fight and the New Mandalorians are not on the winning side of it...

Satine stops, staring at the final sentence. She reads it through once, and then again.

The tragic assassination of Duke Adonai Kryze.

Time of great grief.

I give my greatest sympathies.

The next thing she knows Satine is grabbing onto the wall for stability, ragged breaths forcing themselves from her lungs where she trapped them. The hallways seem long all of the sudden and a chill creeps through her.

Duke Adonai is dead. Her father is dead? No... he can't be! She would know...

Satine reaches a point where she must make a decision. She can melt into the ground in the Senate hallway, sobbing out the feelings of grief that are threatening to push through the numbness of her shock... or she can find answers.

There is, of course, only one correct answer in a time of war. She picks herself up and marches to the elevators. The world around her seemed blurry and slow. Nothing about it feels real. Maybe this is all a dream?  

Satine prays that it is. That she is just having a moment of awareness in the midst of a horrible nightmare.

Within minutes, she is barging into the Chancellor's office, not caring to go through the usual pleasantries. "Did you know?" Her voice sounds foreign coming from her mouth. It is demanding, yet strained with the rasp of holding back a sob.

Chancellor Valorum looks shocked, both from her sudden presence in his office and her vague question. "Lady Kryze, what do I--"

"My father. Did you know?" Valorum's face falls. It is all the answer she needs. Satine stands in front of his desk with her arms wrapped around herself as though she will fall apart if she doesn't hold herself together. She feels like a child, but she doesn't care. Her anger quickly fails to keep its flame and turns to sadness. "When?"

"I was informed of Duke Adonai's assassination very soon after our last meeting, a little over a week ago."

"A week!"

"But," he looks physically pained as he stares at her, and she distantly wonders how pathetic she must look right now. "I was also told in the same report the death would be reported to you by representatives of Clan Kryze personally."

Satine's head whirs. She opens her mouth, but no words manage to escape. She closes it again, hugging her arms around her tighter.

"My deepest apologies, truly. When you mentioned your sister had arrived on Coruscant... I thought you knew."

Satine presses her lips together to hide that they are quivering. She bows shallowly. "I thank you for your honesty, Chancellor, and apologize for this outburst." Before he can answer she is out the door, tears already streaming down her face.

It is a different kind of sadness that fills Satine now. She expected to wail, collapse in a pit of despair, but the tug of grief is much quieter than that. Her tears stream continuously down her face in hot streams that drip off her cheeks. Her throat is tight, feeling as though she will never be able to open it to speak of the horrors she is feeling inside. While she cries, silently and solemnly, she is not crumbling. Quite the opposite, actually. She walks with conviction to the elevator, fueled by the anger of betrayal. Never has violence crossed the mind of Satine so vividly as in this moment when her comlink rings and it is Bo-Katan.

She ignores it. Satine steps into the lift and presses the button to let her out at the taxi drive.

Obi-Wan slips off his cloak, wrapping it around the soaking girl. He can't help but notice how small she looks. She is an average size for a human female, a few inches shorter than Obi-Wan himself, but somehow she always seemed taller. Maybe it was her strong posture that gave her a commanding look or her voice that tends to fill a room when she speaks. He was always aware of her presence when he was in it, but now she feels like she is trying to take up as little space as possible.

"Come," he says softly, placing a hand at her shoulder blades and is surprised when she doesn't jolt away from him.

They walk silently through the Temple. Obi-Wan receives many looks from passerby's, but he makes sure the message he projects in the Force is a firm mind your business. Even the initiates make a point not to stare.

Of course, he cannot not run into people he knows. Bant is walking with Garen, both of whom see Obi-Wan with a trembling civilian. They look surprised and worried, nearly stopping to talk before he makes it obvious he must continue. He presses his lips into a thin line as he acknowledges them, promising to explain later as he passes.

Obi-Wan takes her to a lounge area that civilians are able to occupy and sends a quick message to Qui-Gon to meet him as soon as possible.

The lounge is quiet and comfortable. Satine clutches Obi-Wan's cloak around herself as she settles onto one of the couches. He watches her closely, unsettled at the way she is moving about the room. It is like she is floating aimlessly through space, not trying to push herself in any certain direction. Just... drifting. That empty look on her face has at least settled into more of a neutral expression, though it is plainly obvious she has been crying.

He sits next to her, putting a good distance between them to allow her space. She stares down at her lap where her fists have balled up the thick material of his cloak.

"I did not know where else to go," she says softly, her voice raspy and raw. She looks up at him, her blue eyes seeming much brighter lined with tears. "And I am sorry for how I have treated you, Obi-Wan. It was not fair of me."  

"The past is the past," he says, nodding with gratitude. "That is not why you are here, though. What is going on? Are you hurt?"

Lady Satine shakes her head. "It is not me who is wounded. Physically, at least."

Obi-Wan cocks his head to the side in confusion. She clears her throat, staring past him. "The ruler of Mandalore is dead. My... My father." She closes her eyes, breathing deeply, and Obi-Wan now can feel the deep grief radiating through the Force. He allows himself to feel it for just a moment, letting the heaviness settle in his own chest. Obi-Wan wants to reach out and offer a touch of comfort, but he restrains himself. Her eyes open once again, swirls of conflict in them now. "And now that the Duke is dead I-" Her vision focuses back on Obi-Wan, awe evident on her face like she is just realizing her words. "I am Duchess of Mandalore."

Earlier

In the same way she barged into Chancellor Valorum's office, Satine bursts into her own apartment. Bo and Nel stand in the center of the living space, turning in surprise at the racket.

"Satine!" Bo says, her eyebrows narrowing in anger. "What the hell are you--"

Bo is cut off by Satine grabbing her by the collar and pulling her close so they are nearly nose-to-nose. Nel twitches but doesn't pull them apart.

"Why were you sent here?"

Bo's eyes calmly search Satine's face.

"To bring you home."

Satine's anger is quiet and deadly. "I see. So not to tell me our father has been killed?"

For the first time, Bo looks shaken. "How did you--"

Another flash of rage courses through Satine. She pushes her sister backward, suddenly needing an entire galaxy of space between them. "So you've been keeping this from me? Do you think me a fool?"

"No, sister, please, just--"

"No justification you give me can change the fact that you have kept me in the dark. And for what? There is no reason you can give that would put any sense to this madness!"

Bo looks at a loss for words, alternating between looking at her and Nel. Having suddenly remembered Nel is standing there too, Satine turns her attention to him.

"And I am guessing you are just as complacent in all of this."

He stares at her with much less visible emotion than Bo, which makes Satine feel even worse. "It was for your own good, Satine."

"Don't tell me what is my own good. You strung me along, made me feel bad for not knowing what is going on in Mandalore when you are the one deliberately not telling me vital information." She looks back at Bo. "I want you both to leave."

"Be reasonable, Satine!"

"Reasonable?" she scoffs. "You are disillusioned if you think I am the one being unreasonable in this situation. I want you out. Immediately."

A war with words is not one that Bo-Katan can easily win. She looks at Nel and they silently retire to their rooms to get their things.

By nightfall, Bo and Nel have left. They produced orders that Kira was also to return, so Satine's good cousin begrudgingly leaves with them. For the first time in years, Satine is truly alone, and naturally, it should fall in the moment she wants anything other than to be alone.

Finally, she wallows. The grief hits her like a truck and she falls where she stands. It has been years since she has seen her father, and now he is gone before she can say goodbye. Before she can apologize for the hell she raised when he ordered her to Coruscant. She did not understand then. Sometimes, she still doesn't. But she knows enough to know he was saving her life. Saving the future of Mandalore as much as it hurt.

At some point, she falls asleep on the floor. Satine only knows that this happens when she wakes up with a booming post-sobbing headache and a crick in her neck from resting on the hard ground. It is morning, and all is still. She slowly picks herself up, stretching out her cramped limbs and staring blankly into space.

The pain of loss has diminished. The sentiment is there but she feels much more in control of her emotions. With a clear head, Satine now can see the path ahead of her. She knows what she must do.

It's raining when she steps out of the complex. While she moderately prepared for this by choosing to wear a warm tunic and water-repellant trousers, the feeling of the cool droplets against her skin still sends a shiver down her spine. She hardly cares, though, as the numbness from the rain complements the way she already feels.

Satine at least has her nerves to distract her from her other anxieties. The closer she draws to the Jedi Temple, the more she concludes that this is pretty much the opposite of what she wants to do. Unfortunately, what she wants and needs to do are very different things in this situation. Master Jinn has been kind enough, clearly offering her a lifeline with no mention of her previous biases against her security detail. Obi-Wan, however, is another story.

She can't say he hasn't been an upstanding Jedi to her. In terms of doing his duty, he has done just that. Even in their squabbles, he certainly has the gift of wit, but she can't claim he has disrespected her. Even so, to face him again is making Satine nervous. Maybe it is of her own embarrassment for how crudely she has been judging him, or maybe they truly are incompatible. He just... simply drives her crazy. The fact she is finding it increasingly difficult to present concrete reasons for this feeling makes her even madder.

By the time Satine reaches the front steps of the Jedi Temple she is riddled with anxiety, regret, and shaking from the chill. Though the walk is only a kilometer at most, the rain is unrelenting in soaking her to the bone. How pitiful she must look... maybe it is why the Temple guards take no time in allowing her entry once she alerts she is there to meet Qui-Gon Jinn.

Satine has never been in the Jedi Temple, and her expectations of what she would find are not at all what she expected. There is a simple beauty to the vaulted ceilings, plentiful tall windows, and various shows of impressive art. The visitor's entrance opens to a large rotunda of multiple passages going in every which way. The guard instructs her to wait to be met by Master Jinn, and so she has time to take it all in.

While the architecture is gorgeous, Satine is most surprised by the people that now surround her. Children of all races and species fill the corridor. Laughing, teasing, talking in large clusters-- it feels more like a primary school than a Temple, lively and inviting. She stands in place, slowly turning to take it all in. A Jedi Master-Apprentice pair walks through, the Master reaching out to tug on the padawan's braid affectionately. A small group of elderly Jedi pass, throwing her small smiles that seem to quell her stress just a little bit. In the center of the room, she spots a young man, a padawan based on his braid. He weaves through the crowd, standing quite tall over the more plentiful children. Satine watches as he swiftly changes his course ever so slightly to greet one of the young ones with a ruffle to his hair. The kid squeals, making his little friends also giggle at the attention. The young man turns, flashing a big bright smile at the kid and making Satine suck in a sharp breath.

Obi-Wan is the young man, though he is not at all the man she has known thus far. This Jedi is standing tall with his shoulders back, basking in the comfort of his home. Gone is any sign of awkwardness or discomfort she usually associated with him and now she sees a boy as lively as the Temple he lives in, somehow seeming to bring a little bit of brightness to a cold and dreary day.

Satine realizes she has seen the Jedi smile but she has never seen him grin.

Obi-Wan continues on, but then he stops. Satine's heart is pumping in her chest as he suddenly turns around, staring directly at her like he knew she was there all along. Her heart drops when his happy demeanor fades at the very sight of her. Why couldn't it have been Master Jinn?

He is approaching her now, his eyes scanning over her like is trying to figure out a star chart with no coordinates. Sizing her up, though he has no reason to do so. Never has she felt smaller.

"Lady Satine?" he sounds surprised but genuinely curious. "Are you well?"

What clued him in? Was it the soaking wet clothes? How horrid I must look right now after spending the night sobbing and sleeping on the floor? A Jedi needs no Force to make that deduction.

"I'm afraid I must ask for your help."

His eyes search hers, and then he nods. The next thing she knows he is carefully wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. While usually, she would object to such a gesture, especially from Obi-Wan, Satine is cold. The cloak is thick and warm and has a lingering scent of warm spice and a touch of sweetness that reminds her of an aromatic cup of tea. She has no energy to deny such a pleasant feeling, and even allows his hand to lightly rest at her back as he guides her through the Temple.

He takes her to a lounge area. Small but cozy. Obi-Wan mutters something about Master Jinn coming as well but his voice just sounds far away. She's distracted. Not by the things that actually matter but about the trivial things that take her mind away from her loss.

"I did not know where else to go... And I am sorry for how I have treated you, Obi-Wan. It was not fair of me."

He looks surprised and concerned. The young Jedi is not nearly as distant as she expected him to be at their reunion, but showing great interest in her wellbeing. He asks why she is really here and Satine finally musters the courage to say it aloud.

"The ruler of Mandalore is dead. My... My father." she chokes as she tries to keep her breaths even, pushing away the panic attack that threatens to surface. But as the words settle into the air, realization hits Satine like a truck. The ruler of Mandalore is dead. "And now that the Duke is dead I-" She cannot bear to say it aloud. It's too soon. She is not ready. The panic continues to surge through her until she finally focuses on Obi-Wan, his calm eyes staring at her with patience and sympathy. She looks back, allowing herself to be grounded in his placid energy. Duty. It is my duty. "I am Duchess of Mandalore."

Duchess of Mandalore. It sounds foreign. For so long her future has been talked about in what felt like theoretical terms, but suddenly nothing is rhetorical.

"Satine," the Jedi says softly. She realizes he has never addressed her in such an informal way, but she will allow it for this moment. "I am so sorry. What can I do?"

The door to the lounge opens and in walks Qui-Gon Jinn. His expression is laced with trepidation upon seeing the two sitting on the lounger. Satine looks at Qui-Gon, and then back to his padawan.

"I must return to Mandalore. At once."

Read it on AO3

Note: I will not be posting every chapter here on Tumblr... just the ones I am the most pleased with since this is a longer fic and will have filler for plot purposes (i.e. chapter 4). To read in full, check out the link to read on AO3.