Don't Apologize

Trigger Warning: Main character experiences symptoms of PTSD

"You think anyone will recognize me?"

Obi-Wan glanced at the woman on his arm, raising his eyebrows a bit while they walked through the streets of one of Shukut's moons, closer and closer to the area where the festival was being held. "This is the most informal outfit I have ever seen you wear, my dear."

It was true - Satine wore only a purple tunic and a tan leggings shoved into brown boots, with her hair tied into a knot and a blue cloak thrown around her shoulders. She was virtually unrecognizable - that is, if people didn't look at closely. But despite close proximityp peopledidn't always look at each other during festivals.

She sighed, tugging her cloak hood over her head. "I suppose…"

"If anyone is recognizable, Auntie - it's Uncle Ben. He's still wearing his lightsaber"

Obi-Wan glared over the Satine's head to his nephew - well, her nephew, as they weren't married - but details, details. He received a grin in return, and rolled his eyes affectionately. "Weren't you going to meet some friends?"

Korkie shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. "If I find - oh, there's Amis and his boyfriend by the fountain." He waved, catching their attention easily. There weren't very many people between his friends and the beginnings of the festival.

"Back at the hotel by midnight?" Satine asked, though her tone brokered no argument.

"Does the rule apply if I'm captured by pirates?"

Satine sighed in exasperation, and Korkie grinned, giving a two-finger salute before jogging towards his friends.

"He's spending too much time with you."

"Whatever do you mean darling?" Obi-Wan smirked at her huff, and patted the hand tucked into his elbow good naturedly. "He's fine."

"Mm hmm." Satine scanned the stalls that they were approaching, inching closer to her lover. She was glad she had invited him to the festival on Shukut's moon - even if the festival celebrated the Old Ways of the Mandalorians.

Of the hundreds of street vendors, more than half of them sold food of one type or another. It was rather endearing to watch Obi-Wan take every sample that was offered, trying to give his thanks with his mouth full. She half-wondered if he had even eaten in the morning, to accommodate for the amount of food he was shoveling down.

A smaller, more sinister thought wondered if he had even eaten a proper meal in weeks. He had flown in from the Outer Rim to the hotel only yesterday, staying awake long enough to say hi to Korkie and make love to Satine before falling into a deep sleep.

Dusk came quickly on this moon. She watched colored lanterns fill the sky, smiling at the blues and oranges and pinks. The night was supposed to be cold, but with so many people jostling about, it was rather warm.

"We should have worn linens," Satine murmured while they walked away from a glass-blower. "I'm sweltering."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Well I'm not stopping you from stripping - but your people might be scandalized."

She shoved him in the ribs and gave a very unladylike snort. "Indecent man."

"Me? Oh no, my dear - you have me -"

A shot went through the crowd. Wait - not a shot. Fireworks exploding, crackling and singing in the sky. People were stopping in their tracks, staring upwards and chattering excitedly. It was no Nubian Festival of Light, true - but it was still beautiful.

She looked on, about to lean into Obi-Wan's side - and realizing that he wasn't by beside her anymore.

"Ben?" Satine spun about, trying to find him in the crowd.

There, moving between people quickly, his unmistakable brown cloak poking just above the heads of most Mandalorians.

Someone jostled her shoulder roughly, a heavy boot stepping on her foot.

"Haar'chak!" Satine muttered, rubbing at her shoulder while the culprit - a young woman, spun about.

"Ni eparavur takisit," the young woman faltered when she caught sight of Satine, mouth hanging open for a bit. "Your Grace, I -"

"Cui ogir'olar."

The young woman smiled hesitantly, then dipped her head and scurried away.

Satine scanned the crowd again, slowly weaving through families and pets and boisterous clusters of friends, toward where she last saw Obi-Wan. She wondered where Korkie was in the crowd - probably exploring the culture the New Mandalorians had long since tried to abandon. Oddly enough, she felt okay with the idea of him learning the history of their people - as long as he came home safe, she was fine.

Safe and fine...she didn't feel like either of those things right now. Vulnerable, maybe, with the fireworks booming overhead and the vendors shouting and everyone laughing. There were too many people, and she was alone, without anyone to protect her.

A crowd this big... something could go wrong in a second...and she had been recognized already…

She didn't want to ask anyone if they'd seen Obi-Wan - goddesses, she could only imagine asking such a thing.

"Tall, scruffy ginger? Lightsaber clipped to his belt? Wearing a navy blue tunic and leggings?"

Yeah - that would go over real well.

"Free face painting!"

"Shish kebabs! Shish kebabs, right here!"

"Popped maize!"

"Duel starting in five minutes - five minutes!"

She grimaced, pulling her cloak tighter around her while she went to the outskirts of the festival. It was quieter here, with fewer lights and more trees. There was the fountain Korkie's friends had stood beside earlier, with water gurgling out from a nymph statue.

That's where she found him, leaning against the fountain, nearly covered in shadows and his head buried in his hands.

"Ben?" Satine whispered cautiously, lowering her hood. "Obi-Wan?"

He didn't respond, didn't even twitch a muscle.

She sat beside him, making a face when water squelched beneath her robe and immediately began to seep through it. Reaching out a hand, she went to touch his shoulder -

Only for Obi-Wan to reach out and grasp her wrist gently. "Don't... please don't."

"What -"

The fireworks boomed and crackled overhead, and she glanced to watch them, a small smile on her face - until she realized Obi-Wan had flinched, his grip on her wrist tightening painfully.

"Ben?" Satine whispered, hating the terror that creeped into her voice. She would probably have bruises on her wrist in the morning.

Obi-Wan glanced at her, his cheeks stained with tears, his eyes haunted - and then his gaze traveled down to her wrist. He jerked his hand away like he had burned himself, his discomfort turning to horror. "Did - did I hurt you?"

"I'll live," she murmured, twisting it experimentally. "See? I'm okay."

"I hurt -" A pink firework sung into the sky and crackled merrily, and he grimaced, tensing considerably and letting out a harsh breath.

She watched the sky and the smoke, understanding slowly what was happening. The fireworks remind him of battle.

She nearly wanted to laugh at her own foolishness. Bringing a soldier to a festival and a firework show? An active soldier that got shot at every other day and lived hand-to-mouth on the battlefield? Brilliant. Simple brilliant.

"Do you want me to leave?" Satine asked, her hand hovering over his.

Obi-Wan hesitated, then shook his head pitifully. She scooched over and neatly tucked herself into his side, twining their hands together.

"I'm sorry."

She squeezed her fingers around his, wishing he would relax but knowing it would probably take hours before that happened. Whatever. When the fireworks weren't exploding, it was quiet beside the fountain, away from the thousands that swarmed the streets.

"Don't apologize darling."

Mando'a:

Haar'chak - Damn it

Ni eparavur takisit - I apologize

Cui ogir'olar - It's irrelevant

Shukut - a planter in the Mandalore system. It has 30 moons, some of which are habitable

Author's note: I read a story about how soldiers often have difficulty listening to fireworks, as they're reminded of battle, and then this idea wormed into my head.

Let me know what you think ^-^

(As usual I'll edit this fully at a later date)

ii Digestive Reader ii