Mud | Obikin

34.

"I apologise on Anakin's behalf," I say when everybody else has left. "It wasn't the place nor the time for any of that. On the other hand, you should forbid such cruelties under your roof. Guests are sacred."

Satine closes the library door behind my back. The wine gives her cheeks colour, and shine to her eyes. "Stop grousing, old friend, and learn to acknowledge a compliment, when you're paid one... Under the pretence of teasing you and scandalising the others, that kid tricked all the table into singing your praises all dinner long - quite an elaborate courtship, I dare say."

"This is exactly what Anakin wants you to believe. Don't fall for it, please, it's all part of his mockery. Still, I credit him for your mirth; you needed that, and it's beautiful to see."

"You seem compelled to validate Skywalker's theories about your smoothness." She sits at her desk with a soft wail. "The truth is, I just reached that point where exhaustion turns into euphoria... I've been probably drinking too much for diplomacy, but I'll be busy being pilloried by the Ruling Council, tomorrow. Go ahead, Obi-Wan, say the thing."

I take a deep breath - frankness has always done better than tact, with her. "Being rescued put you in a tight spot. Padme and I cleaned after Anakin before. Let us help."

"A generous offer, but I'll sort this out on my own. The Republic's support makes me appear weak, and I can't pay its price, anyway; Mandalore will never join the war. Now that we've stopped dancing around, I'll add that sending you, of all the Jedi, to have me more agreeable is a cheap shot of the Council."

"You don't seem all that agreeable. Also, the Council did not send me."

Her wit gets stuck on her lips.
She shakes her head, confused. "This is... Not like you."

I'm not like me, indeed.
The shell cracked, and all the insides are pouring out.

"No need to show off more of your fierce independence, Satine, I've seen plenty of it already. Just ask."

Her fingers follow the wood grains of the table top, circling around the knots. When she finally speaks, I know what it costs her.

"The Ruling Council suspects me of being in league with Senators and Jetiise. Padme, Bail and Anakin should assure them our encounter was of a... personal nature. Would this give Anakin troubles within the Order?"

"He has so many already that the Council won't even notice. He's not the best choice for such a sensitive issue, but you can count on the rest of us; consider it done. Be aware, though, that this version will expose you to a different kind of gossip."

"As long as they don't assume I'm a conspirator, I don't care. There's nothing they can say I haven't heard already." Satine gives me a condescending glance. "Never thought about it, Obi-Wan? An empowered, unmarried, childless woman pushing forty is more than enough, even for Mandalore... Kind of funny how your life choices substantially coincide with mine but are never questioned."

"There's a straightforward explanation for mine." My voice instinctively softens. "People find it harder to understand why a woman with your qualities isn't married."

"Apparently, these qualities are incompatible with a husband." She snickers at her own words, then stares at the darkness outside the window. "It just... wasn't meant to be, Ben. A Jedi must know that a legacy isn't necessarily an offspring. I'll adopt my brother's son, Korkie, after the war. It will distract slanderers from my supposedly softened form until I'm too old for them to worry. Besides, I've always loved that boy. You'd like him, too..."

Satine scowls like someone's just said something inconvenient.

"Wayii. Haryc b'aalyc," she mutters to herself and gets up to open the doors back. "The wine is making me prattle. If you're a friend, you'll send me straight off to bed."

With reluctance, I follow her invite and bow my head to wish her a good night.
As I pass her by, though, she touches my arm.

"Regarding the actual reason Anakin was on Kalevala, and what he did there-" Satine trails off, enlightened. "But you know about Tann's men already, don't you? You even know about Padme and their new way to handle an old issue."

"Anakin is a... complicated legacy. I'm taking care of the matter."

"That's what Padme said, too. Yet, the boy could burn down Coruscant to save any of you, and you would be covering for him without a flinch. He's got you both blind, Obi-Wan, you'll wake up only the hard way. Was this my only worry, I would've minded my business like you think I should've. But I witnessed his power and what's he's willing to do with it; the game you three are playing will bring consequences on a bigger scale... You treat Anakin like he's a naughty but lovable rascal brother of yours, but that's not what he is."

A brother... oh, Satine.

"And what is he, then?"

"Danger. Acknowledge it, and render him harmless." She caresses my cheek, searching my eyes for something. "Feelings incapacitate you as they do with any of us, after all... a truly bittersweet satisfaction."

"It has always been about who hides it better, you know," I take her hand and bring it to my lips.

Satine smiles. For a moment, she can't hold my gaze.

"I wish life had been kinder to us," she whispers before kissing me goodnight.

The room I've been assigned to matches the severe elegance of the Palace; hard stone, and delicate transparisteel, not unlike its Duchess.
I stare at the huge bed for a while, as it could hide some elusive yet ultimately obvious revelation.
I still feel Satine's touch, hear her voice boding dire outcomes of my weaknesses.

Damn woman.
Her words eat into my brain like a worm - the truth everybody sees but me. However, it doesn't change that I miss Anakin, with an urgency that reminds me of withdrawal.

I lay on top of my covers, immobile.
When Anakin arrives, I'll try to discuss what he did last night and what we saw when we were one. He'll close my mouth with a kiss and make me forget about everything.

He isn't coming, though. Not my turn.

In fact, they're so close I must focus not to sense him.
I toss my clothes and shoes off and crawl under the blankets.
This bed is too big for my body to warm it. Had I held Satine's hand when she touched my beard, this wouldn't be a problem.
I could let Anakin feel us.

This idea is ghastly. I must ponder it a long time before comprehending it's about vengeance. The Darkness is all mine, this time, there's no blaming Anakin. I'm actually fantasising about hurting him back - unheeding of the collateral damages to Satine - when it is only me who deserves the pain.

In the end, it's this concept that persuades me to reach for him.
Anakin is totally unshielded, expecting me like I've been expecting him. Perceiving me stokes the flame already burning into his Signature. The forces battling inside him are so dreadful I wonder how he endures being stuck in there.
In exchange for this unsettling disclosure, I give him what he craves: I let him feel from the inside just how defeated I am, how annihilated, without sparing anything.
Our Bond has gotten so sensitive we do not feel through each other anymore; it's me that wants her, takes her, and enjoys my ache.
It's already too late when I try to break contact. My hand slides down my stomach - my desire not mine, but his for her.
I hate what he's doing to me. My love is a disgusting illness making me rot from the inside.
As pleasure shakes our legs and curves our spines, I wish I could be sane again, whole again, free again.

Note from the author:

The lovely JediStormbringer is to be credited for the beta-reading and the editing.
I wouldn't have made it without her support. And yours.

I worked on this story strenuously, and now am exhausted. But happy.
Hope you enjoy.
Alcalina