Since its beginning, the Jedi Order had forbidden any form of attachments. The members were not to have parents, brothers, spouses or children, for such attachments lead to jealously, despair, passion and divided loyalties. The Order could not stand for such things.

It had rarely stopped anyone from attaching anyway.

Young Padawans would feel attached to their Masters if careful lines were not drawn, and so the Masters; for they had raised them since childhood. The Jedi were considerate in this cases, if things didn't get out of control it was fine, they could call it compassion and turn the other way.

Obi Wan Ben Kenobi was the prime example of what a Jedi should be, poised and calm, always ready to learn, praised by his teachers since he was young, everyone knew that he would go on to do great things.

He vaguely wondered what they'd think of him if they could see him now.

It had all began with a com-call. Or well, it had started with fierce and smart young Duchess of Mandalore, and the affair they had during his bodyguard duty to her.

Some long late-night conversations, some blaster-shooting lessons-by her insistence, for Obi Wan thought them uncivilized weapons- and lots of banter later they were sitting in a roof top making out, and his oaths had gone to hell.

I have no attachments, he tells himself, even when her lips are pressed to his and her blonde hair is tangled in his fingers.

I have no attachments, he swears to Qui-Gon, who just stares at him with an amused look.

I have no attachments, he promises to the air, even as his heart twists painfully in his chest when they leave Mandalore, and thus Satine, behind.

And there he was now. Eight months after leaving Mandalore, back in Mandalore.

''I have no attachments'' he declares to himself, watching his lover rest as he holds their son. Though the sentence feels void of sentiment, it's more like a plea or a mocking statement.

What has done?

A boy, a son. That's exactly what he has done. The living proof of his inability of holding onto the Jedi beliefs laid on his chest, staring at him with big blue eyes that he knew too well. The baby also had dark-sandy brown hair, which was also painfully familiar.

He was unsure about what to feel, so thrown out of balance.

The worst thing was that regret was not amongst his emotions. No, even worse, some sense of pride bloomed in his chest when his son wrapped his little fist on his thumb. So innocent and blameless of his parents mistakes.

That sounded wrong.

''You are not a mistake.'' He clarified quickly, as if the baby could read his mind. ''I'm just a bit out of my depth here.''

''It's the first time I've ever heard you say that'' Satine slurred with a thick voice.

He turned his head at her, his eyes leaving the baby briefly.

They hadn't talked much through the call. She had just told him to come urgently and he, selfless as always, did. She must have forgotten to tell him that she was going in labor. Or that she was pregnant at all.

She was laying on her back, resting over a pile of plushy pillows, and for once, she looked to be out of words. Still regal and poised as ever, the woman he had grown to love seemed to be fine, but he could feel her churning emotions.

So he decided to speak first, ever the gentleman.

''Are you feeling well?''

She nodded stiffly.

''I'm better than I've been in months.'' She unconsciously rested a hand on her belly, and her expression shifted. ''Hand him over.'' She commanded, and Obi Wan obeyed.

He spared his son one last glance before placing him on his mother's chest.

''His name is Korkie, to honor the last Duke.''

Obi Wan said nothing and she frowned.

''I'm sorry.'' She offered weakly. ''They told me I was in danger, that my frame was too slender for this go smoothly and-'' she licked her lips, ''I was afraid.''

His eyes softened at that. He understood, fear was an awful thing that drove many ones to the dark side.

''Satine…''

She offered him a sad smile.

''I'm never afraid when you are near, Obi'', his throat felt tight, ''besides, if I had died…You deserved to know the truth.''

His lips trembled, and he may have cried, with his eyes on his son and the woman he loved.

''Why didn't you tell me before?''

Her voice was full of irony, and some melancholy.

''You used to say it all the time: the Jedi can't have attachments.''

It was his turn to return the smile, but there was no sadness on it.

''I'd say it's a bit too late for that.''