Welcome to my lovely little AU in which Obi-Wan and Satine raise Luke. ;) I never thought myself capable of writing pure fluff, but here we are. XD Angst, drama, and action also abound in this novel, but the first couple of chapters will definitely be fluffy, so brace yourselves.

And enjoy!

Satine

She couldn't recall a darker day.

Three years of galactic civil war and political unrest on Mandalore were nothing but dust in the wind compared to this. It was almost enough to keep her tucked in bed for the rest of her miserable life.

Almost.

Her slippered feet made their way reluctantly across the plush carpet, alerting no one to her presence. Silky blonde curls tumbled lightly upon satin laden shoulders. She smiled despite it all.

Padme's clothes had fit for the most part, but Satine felt as though she was already imposing too much without continuing to share the young senator's wardrobe.

Besides, she had missed the individuality of her own personal style during those first weeks.

Refugees aren't supposed to be stylish, she reminded herself grimly as she pulled the final pin, releasing the last of her curls from their prison. And Obi likes me no matter what colors I'm wearing.

The mere thought of her Jedi yanked her back to the present. The horrible, awful present from which none of them seemed able to escape.

She had to physically force herself not to glance out the window—she could smell the smoke and ash all-too-well without letting her eyes fall once again on the flaming Temple.

Oh, Obi…

How had everything gone so wrong? Even during the war, which she'd so despised, there was always hope, a steadfast anchor to cling to in the midst of all the killing. Dozens of Jedi and clone troopers had been on their side. As well as the Republic.

Satine paused, hands freezing in her hair mid-style.

Compared to this newly established Empire, life in the Republic had been bliss.

She had always held fast to neutrality, even after her knight in shining red Mandalorian armor had whisked her away from the clutches of Maul and Death Watch.

And even while Padmé had been kind enough to hide her in the complex folds of her Coruscant apartment, Satine had retained her ideals, hoping she could still be of some influence in the senate on behalf of her planet.

But those goals lived only in her distant memory now.

It wasn't until the rise of the Empire and the storming of the Temple by the very soldiers who swore to protect the Jedi they fired upon that Satine began to recognize the benefits of a Galactic Republic, even if it could never hope to be united.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a democracy.

It was free.

Several moments passed in a deafening silence before she was able to rise from the vanity and dress for the day—the first full day of Palpatine's Empire.

How could there be any hope of repairing her home planet now? After all, she was nothing more than a political refugee these days. And what sort of Mandalore would take shape in this new empire?

Though her sister had never been much of a politician, she was a strong leader. Satine forced herself to breathe. The planet was in good hands for now. It didn't need her, not yet, but there was someone else who did.

A dear friend who's life was tearing apart at the seams, crumbling to ash faster than anyone could even begin to repair it.

Clad only in a simple lavender day dress, Satine glided down to the main balcony, where she knew she would find Padmé.

The poor dear probably hasn't left it since late last night.

Last night… When Skywalker had shown up, when the Temple had been set ablaze.

When the last of the world as she knew it had dissolved forever.

Because it was the balcony that lended Padmé a full view of the Coruscant skyline—of any possible speeders that might dock unexpectedly, in which might sit her wayward husband.

Satine was no fool. She knew Skywalker had broken the rules; she couldn't have lived for so many months in his wife's apartment without knowing sooner or later.

She only wished another Jedi might have taken the leap of faith as well, might have broken a few rules for her…

No. This isn't about you. This is about Padmé.

Oh, show me how to help you, Satine pleaded briefly before stepping out into the fresh morning air. Even if she couldn't find the right words to say, she could at least sit at her friend's side and bleed silent comfort with her mere presence.

She could simply be there.

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?"

Padmé's question stopped her just short of the marble pillars.

What?

A long pause fogged the once fresh air with a tension so suffocating, Satine had to fight to keep from choking.

Then, he spoke, his warm, familiar tone dripping with rare emotion.

"He has become a very great threat."

The words were carefully chosen, revealing nothing outright, but their implications were clear as kyber.

When the time came, Obi-Wan would do what he must.

"I can't."

There was no doubt now in Satine's mind as to who they spoke of, the only question now was why?

A soft rustle of fabric indicated Obi-Wan's impending departure and her heart began to race. She wanted so desperately to run into his arms, to be held and to hold. To never let go again.

But he had his own life and she had hers, however fractured they both might be, and she couldn't stand in the way of what he had to do.

Whatever that might be.

Just when she thought the coast was clear, Obi-Wan's voice echoed one last time over the veranda, a dull pain drowning the remainder of his subtlety.

"Anakin's the father, isn't he?"

Padmé's silence spoke volumes.

"I'm so sorry."

A low flush of engines starting filled the distant air, and then he was gone.

A breath. Another. Then: Why must it all fall apart so quickly, so easily?

Caught up in her thoughts, Satine barely registered a flustered Padmé brush past her.

"Padmé…" she breathed, following the expectant mother back into the apartment.

She had known even before Anakin of her friend's pregnancy, but it was only not that the concept finally became real to her.

"I have to go," was all the reply she received.

"Where?"

No response.

"Padmé, I'm only here to help, you know this."

For the briefest of moments, Padmé paused her preparations. "I know." Her lips trembled. "And I'm grateful. But there's nothing you or Obi-Wan can do now. Only I can get through to him. Take care of the apartment for me? I… I don't know how soon I'll be back."

Satine nodded, any words she might have said caught in a ball at the bottom of her throat. Travel outfits and necessities flew into several bags with reckless abandon, and it took a moment for Satine's mind to urge her into helping Padmé pack.

They worked in silence, neither voicing their worries or their concerns; both already knowing quite well what the other would say.

It all happened so fast, and soon the former duchess was left alone to piece together a comprehensible explanation for that morning's events. Something, anything, that could make sense of it all for her.

She needed logic, she needed answers.

And everyone who might be able to give them to her had gone.

And she was alone again.

Alone.

"Be safe." Those were to be her last words to the kind Senator from Naboo. "Be safe."

Not "thank you for everything," or "you've been such a dear friend to me, Padmé."

No…

But life rarely gives a warning, and one never truly knows when their last moments with someone might be.

So, Satine didn't think much of the exchange, in which Padmé had responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Instead, she took action, her natural-born leadership skills taking the controls.

As she swept about the room, packing what little she owned and changing into her usual pink top and pants, she took a moment to dial a number she'd only ever seen Padmé and Obi-Wan use, which explained the senator's confusion when her voice filtered through the comlink.

"Senator Organa," she began, leaving no room for the basic greetings, "Master Kenobi and Padmé... They seem to trust you a great deal."

"Who is this? How did you get a hold of Padmé's comm?"

"That's not important at the moment."

"What about Obi-Wan and Padmé?" His voice was stressed, uncertain, and worried.

A beat as Satine glanced out the window at the still smoking Temple. "I think they're in trouble. And I need your help."

"Give me ten minutes. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Satine could've cried. "Thank you."

Jamming a few more necessities into her suitcase—this time, items belonging to Padmé and Anakin—Satine forced herself to breathe.

She was, after all, Duchess Satine of Mandalore. Or, rather, she used to be…

And she could handle anything as long as she was prepared.

She would never be prepared for death. No matter how many times it circled around her, claiming the ones she loved, the action would come as a shock every time.

"But she can't be dying!" Satine had exclaimed to the room of solemn men. "Did you all not just hear the nurse? Her vitals are intact; she's in perfect health!"

Obi-Wan hadn't replied and she found it a difficult task to recall a time in which she witnessed such raw emotion play across his handsome features.

She'd followed him silently into the chamber where her friend lay, dying from some unknown force. She'd watched blankly, her soul in turmoil, as Obi-Wan begged Padmé to stay alive, to push through the pain.

To think of her children, who so desperately needed her.

Then, clutching the second of the surprise set of twins against his chest, Obi-Wan had pleaded one last time.

She had never seen him plead before, either. It was a chilling sight, only serving to remind her of just how far everything had fallen.

"Do something." Her own voice was a strangled whisper now, and she tightened her hold on the first twin. Luke, Padmé had called him. "Obi, do something."

But he didn't, he couldn't. Neither of them could.

Because no matter how mighty, or how strong, no man or woman has the power to resurrect the dead.

The next few minutes swirled by in a blur. Bail was there, and Master Yoda, but Satine couldn't comprehend their words.

It was only when Obi-Wan's gentle hand brushed the tears from her cheeks that she noticed them. It was only then that she realized he had given one of Padmé's precious children to Bail.

"Hidden, safe, the children must be kept," Yoda was saying. "Split up, they should be."

"My wife and I will take the girl." Satine glanced at Bail, who clutched Leia to his chest. "We've always talked about adopting a baby girl. She will be loved with us."

Yoda only nodded.

"And what of the boy?" Satine heard her own voice through the dense fog of grief.

"I will take the child and watch over him," Obi-Wan solemnly volunteered.

Her breath hitched.

Again, Yoda nodded, but this time, Satine could not remain silent.

"Does this boy not deserve a loving family like his sister?"

Blue eyes aged far beyond their years fell slowly upon her own. Searching, knowing, hoping.

"Hmm," Yoda grunted, jutting his glimmer stick against the ship's floor. "Until the time is right, disappear we will. Until the time is right, no more, the Jedi Order is. No more, the rules are."

His arm was around her shoulders in an instant, sending waves of comfort and security into her heart.

And for the third time in her life, she dared to hope.

As a young woman—a girl, really—she'd dared to hope.

As a duchess rescued from the hands of terrorists, she dared to hope.

And now, holding that precious babe in her arms with her shining knight at her side, she dared to hope one last time.

Because if her hopes failed her now, she could never hope again.

But he said nothing.

The Great Negotiator, they all called him, and he said nothing.

Yoda rose from his chair after a few moments and hobbled towards the door. Then, he paused, glancing back at Obi-Wan with an all-knowing expression on his shriveled green face.

"Master Kenobi. In your exile, wherever it may be, training, I have for you."

"Training?"

"An old friend has learned the path to immortality. One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force..." He smiled. "Your old master."

She felt a jolt of surprise rippled through him, matching that of her own.

"Qui-Gon?"

Yoda nodded. "How to commune with him, I will teach you. Until come, the time does, may the Force be with you. Both of you."

Only when the Jedi Master disappeared through sliding doors, Bail at his heels; only when she was alone with Obi-Wan, her dear Obi-Wan, did Satine allow hope to rekindle once more.

Into a flame, it grew and grew until she could contain it no longer.

"Obi...?"

Strong hands cupped her shoulders and she found herself with no place to look but into his eyes.

And it was the eyes that solidified her hope at long last.

"It won't be easy," he told her.

"When is it ever?"

"And I might be too late. Far too late…"

"You're never too late."

"But," his voice shook ever so slightly, his oceanic orbs glistening, "will you raise this child with me, Satine Kryze? Will you…marry me?

She was nodding before he had even finished. Her throat was too tight to speak at first, and she was too overjoyed to form a single coherent sentence.

"Yes," she said finally as tears trickled down her flushed cheeks. "I thought you would never ask."

"And I'd always hoped that one day," he responded, smiling, "I would."

If it crosses your mind, let me know what you think! :) Also! If anyone has any ideas for some cool subplots, or if there is anything you would like to see happen in this fic, just let me know in a PM of the comments. Thank you! :D