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Obi-Wan had fallen in love.
Not that he dared confess it to his master, but he had. Mandalore wasn’t a beautiful planet, not after the complete devastation it had seen; destroying its once lush forests and forcing its people to live within cities crammed under a dome to protect them from the harsh deserts and wildlife that had taken over the majority of the surface. No, it hadn’t been the planet itself he had fallen in love with over the course of a year he’d spent in its sands, running between its limited populations with Satine. Nor had it been Satine herself that had claimed his heart. Sure, he had thought he was falling in love with her in the beginning, but he’d since come to realize she wasn’t what had captured his heart.
It was Mandalore’s culture. Their rich history, their love of children, their spicy dishes…he’d fallen in love with the culture, and he’d been heartbroken to leave it all behind once he and his Master had finished their mission. He’d hoped that someone would ask him to stay—he would have stayed—but no one asked. He packed his things and returned to the Jedi Temple alongside his master.
But Mandalore had left with him, in a way.
Over his year on Mandalore, Obi-Wan had acquired a full set of beskar’gam. One of good quality, despite the colors of Death Watch originally coating its surface. Once he no longer needed it, he’d taken it to the nearest blacksmith to turn it over to them, so that it may be melted down and reforged for another Mandalorian in need. To his surprise, the Blacksmith had declared that he had earned the armor. They had taken the time to refit it to his body better in some places and replaced the old aliik with a new one, reminiscent of the Jedi symbol. Then they sent him on his way.
Master Qui-Gon didn’t know he had brought the armor back with him. That he’d painted it, that he kept it shining, despite being tucked away, hidden in his room along with some other items he’d kept from undercover missions he felt might be needed again at some point.
He never fully put it on. Master Qui-Gon wouldn’t approve if he saw.
Obi-Wan and his master rarely got the chance to simply be back home in the temple. Qui-Gon hated being idle, and demanded to be sent out again and again. It had its toll on Obi-Wan, mainly his classes. There was only ever so much he could do while on missions.
At least the type of missions Qui-Gon took.
So it finally got to the point, two years after Mandalore, where Obi-Wan had to stay behind as his Master took on another long-term mission so that he could dedicate his time to catching up on his classes.
It also gave him time to relax in his own way, and he quite frankly missed Mandalore and it’s food. A quick trip down to the Little Keldabe district really wouldn’t hurt, so long as he didn’t show up in his Jedi robes.
After taking the time to hide his padawan braid, he once again donned his beskar’gam, its weight grounding him and settling his nerves over his idea of getting midmeal in Little Keldabe rather than going to Dex’s Diner like he normally did. To complete the look, he grabbed a few non-Jedi weapons from his collection, a pair of blasters and a fairly decent dagger, strapping them in place before sneaking out of the temple, the beskar’gam only aiding him in remaining undetected by other Jedi, so long as he remained out of sight.
Traveling through Coruscant in his armor felt freeing, a smile curling his lips under the safety of his helmet. Shady individuals avoided him, and no one got in his way or rudely shoved past him, an issue he usually ignored every time he traveled deeper into the city planet.
He stepped off the elevated maglev train onto the landing platform of the level he needed. Little Keldabe didn’t have its own stop as very few non-Mandalorians ever went there, and they were close enough to a ship hanger with a lift down for Mandalorians to use. He set off in the direction of his destination, eager to taste authentic Mandalorian food again.
Ahead of him, a kid stumbled out of an alley, tripping and falling, their hands and knees scraping painfully against the duracrete. Obi-Wan sped up, jogging over to them, “You okay, kid?”
The kid, a young iktochi, looked up at him nervously. “I won’t hurt you. Mandalorians never hurt children.” he reassured.
The kid said something in broken basic, pointing back the way they had come. Obi-Wan didn’t know everything that was said, but he understood enough. The kid’s parent was in trouble. He moved, rushing down the alley until he found a group of ruffians holding the kid’s parent at blasterpoint, demanding they hand over their credits and valuables.
“You might want to go home and rethink your lives.” Obi-Wan spoke up, drawing their attention. He really hoped the group would just run off rather than face a presumed Mandalorian, but he wasn’t so lucky.
“Well, that armor looks valuable with how shiny it is.” one smirked.
“Don’t try it.”
Two of the five ruffians charged at him. He twisted out of the way of the first attack, falling into simple hand-to-hand to fend them off and disarm the first one while tripping the second to buy a little more time. The other three joined the fight when they saw their friends weren’t faring so well, and Obi-Wan had to resort to pulling out his dagger. His attacks delivering injury, but remaining non-lethal. He was a Jedi for all he didn’t look like one, and he would not take a life if he could help it.
A blaster bolt bounced off his pauldron into a wall, leaving a scorch mark, and Obi-Wan twirled around to take the blaster out of commission. Eventually, the ruffians found their senses and fled.
Obi-Wan turned to the iktochi parent and helped them up, “Your kid is waiting over that way.”
The iktochi let out their thanks a few times before rushing towards their kid who greeted them with a hug.
Satisfied, Obi-Wan nodded to himself and looked around the site. He’d dropped his dagger in the scuffle, but he wasn’t spotting it. It was possible one of the ruffians had taken off with it. Sighing, he let it go. The dagger wasn’t anything particularly special, and he didn’t really need it to pull off blending into a crowd of Mandalorians. And if someone asked him why he had an empty sheath strapped to his leg, he could just say he was looking to replace the dagger that used to be in it. No big deal.
He continued his way to Little Keldabe, slipping past the gates to the district without issue and making a beeline towards the food vendors.
He stopped at a booth selling shig leaves, taking the time to purchase a tin to tuck away in the bag he’d brought. He loved tea, and shig had been a treat while he was on Mandalore. He doubted his master would recognize it. The man, for all of a plant lover he was, much preferred caff to any sort of tea. Any tin of leaves Obi-Wan kept in their shared kitchenette were left to him. The tin would last him a while, allowing him to secretly enjoy a taste of Mandalore right under Qui-Gon’s nose.
Obi-Wan really didn’t understand why his master disapproved so much of Mandalorian culture. Sure, they had very rarely gotten along with the Jedi over the course of history, but there hadn’t been any cultural clashes in recent history. Unless one counted the near disaster that had been Galidraan. Obi-Wan sure didn’t. The Jedi and Mandalorians had parted ways peacefully after dealing with the Governor who had set them on the path to collide and renew hostilities. Obi-Wan didn’t know all the details as he’d been on Melida/Daan when it happened, but the lack of hostilities most Mandalorians had shown Obi-Wan while on Mandalore and the blacksmith’s acceptance of him only made him believe that the Mandalorians also didn’t hold that near battle against the Jedi. Things were still unstable between the two cultures, of course, but Obi-Wan believed that with careful steps in the right direction, the two could grow to get along and even become allies.
Obi-Wan made a few more purchases of things he could enjoy later as he made his way towards a tiingilar booth with a bar tucked under an awning. He slid onto a stool and placed his order before removing his helmet and placing it safely on the helmet post behind his stool.
A bowl was set in front of him, and he paid before digging into the spicy stew with a happy hum.
The cook laughed, “Been a while?” they spoke in Mando’a, so Obi-Wan did the same.
“Two years or so.” he confessed, “Since the last time I was on Manda’yaim.”
They gave a hum of understanding, “Since the so-called duchess took over.” they cringed a bit, “Not that we were all settled in one place before, but she’s truly displaced us all.”
Obi-Wan blinked with a frown, “She has?”
“Oh yeah. Peace is a fine idea and all, but when she started banning our language, our armor, our traditions…well, who wants to stay?”
“I hadn’t realized it had gotten that bad. She was only speaking of peace when I left.”
“Your buir’e were probably sheltering you.” they chuckled, “You were what, fifteen? Adult but still protected.”
“I was eighteen, actually. No buir’e. After a year of dealing with the kyr’tsad mess I just felt it was time to go. Got some adjustments made to my armor and then set off. I haven't been around Mando’ade, so I guess I just haven't heard of anything. This was the first chance I’ve gotten to come to Mando territory, small as it is here on Coruscant.” All true, but allowing the Mandalorians within earshot to come up with their own conclusions.
“Still, you were young and could have benefitted from having your buir’e. Did you have what you needed to finish your training?”
“What?” Obi-Wan frowned.
They nodded to his pauldron supporting the aliik that he’d been given, “You’re Ka’ra-blessed. I’ve heard that training lasts much longer than what is needed for your Verd’goten.”
“Oh.” Ka’ra-blessed. He’d heard of that briefly. It’s what the Mandalorians called their Force-sensitives. The aliik he’d been given now made sense to him. The blacksmith had known he was a Jedi, they had given him acceptance of that part of him, in their own way. “Well, I’m still training in that. It’s not—it’s a way of training, I suppose.”
“But not the Mandalorian way, I suspect?”
Obi-Wan shook his head, “No, my teacher is not Mando’ade.”
They nodded, “The Ka’ra-blessed are rare these days. Finding a teacher would be difficult, take your training where you can get it, but don’t forget the way.”
“The Manda has touched my heart, I will never forget it.” Obi-Wan finished his bowl and stood up, taking his helmet under his arm, “Thank You for the meal.”
“Come back any time, vod.”
Obi-Wan smiled and moved to put his helmet back on when they spoke up again.
“Oh, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Confused, Obi-Wan thanked them again with a smile before moving away once more.
Not ready to head back to the temple, he set about wandering the wider marketplace, admiring the weapons, browsing the crafted goods, and considering getting a refill for the weapons built into his vambraces. They had been half used up when he’d acquired the armor, and he had used them some in battles against Death Watch when protecting Satine, he was very low, but then again, he never really got a chance anymore to wear his armor, let alone use the whistling birds or the flamethrower.
Though he had considered wearing his vambraces under his robes more than once. It’d be a useful backup no one would expect of a Jedi.—Well, maybe a Jedi Shadow. Definitely a Jedi Shadow, but Shadows rarely looked like Jedi, and they only reached for their lightsabers as a last resort in any fight. They often had blasters and daggers. Obi-Wan’s best friend Quinlan was a Shadow Padawan, and he and his master had occasionally let Obi-Wan join them for training if they were all on planet at the same time. As a youngling, Obi-Wan had never really put much thought into the Shadows, but now that he was older, he wondered if the path of a Shadow would have been a better fit for him over that of a negotiator. Sure, he was good with his words, often smoothing things over after his master made a mess of things culturally, but the same part of his soul that had hoped to stay on Mandalore also turned his attention towards the Shadows. Once he was knighted, he was pretty sure he could get additional training in the ways of the Shadows if he wanted to. Master Tholme was fond of him and would help him get the proper training modules and answer any questions he had. From there he’d just need to find a Shadow who was willing to take him on missions for field experience. If he did so, he wouldn’t be the first or the last Jedi to change tracks on their Jedi Path after being knighted.
Having thought himself into it, he purchased the refills and dropped them into his bag before continuing on wandering the marketplace.
He stopped at a booth selling woven jewelry and examined a teal bracelet with the Mandalorian aliik for medics carved delicately on a bead of beskar. His friend Bant’s nameday was approaching, and it’d make a lovely gift for her. As a padawan on the Jedi Healer track she had become very interested in other culture’s ways of healing, and he’d told her what he’d learned of Mandalore’s ways, including how teal represented healing to them. He was sure she’d appreciate the simple gift.
As he paid for the bracelet, another armored body pressed up behind him. Assuming they were trying to look around him at the selection, he was about to apologize and step out of the way when a weight dropped into the empty sheath on his leg.
Surprised, he looked down to find that a dagger was now fitting perfectly in the sheath, and looking up, he found himself helmet-to-helmet with another Mandalorian. Their helmet was painted mostly green with red accents—duty and honoring a parent or leader, a rather nice combination in Obi-Wan’s opinion.
“Normally I’d take the time to let you get to know me, but I’m due to meet up with a contact for a hunt I’m on. We could maybe meet up tomorrow for latemeal? You choose the place.”
“Uh, ever been to Dex’s Diner?” Obi-Wan asked, still confused.
“I’ll see you there. I hope it’s a good fit, mesh’la.” they said before disappearing once more into the crowd.
“What a wonderful thing to witness! May it be a good match.” the vender of the stall said, confusing Obi-Wan even more as to what had just happened.
Obi-Wan sat on his bed, his armor hidden away once more, but the dagger remained out, being turned over in his hands. It was a beautiful weapon. The blade pure beskar forged to be delicate with a thin curve, but deadly sharp. The handle was a hand crafted wood, polished to a smooth shine and beautifully carved, depicting a strill hunting its prey among the flowering vines of what had to be some long gone flower that had once grown on the planet’s surface.
It really looked like it should be a weapon made for display rather than use. And it was likely worth a lot. Why would the mysterious Mandalorian give him such a thing?
He hadn’t wanted to ask anyone in Little Keldabe. He didn’t want to risk outing himself as an outsider and then have to explain why he had beskar’gam in hopes that they would believe him. Blacksmiths were the heart of Mandalore’s people. They crafted the baskar and kept their stories and histories safe. If they declared someone Mandokar enough to wear beskar’gam, then there were few who would object. But the only witness he had to his claim of his armor was the blacksmith who granted it to his possession. If they were no longer working out of Sundari, then he had no way to find them so that they could confirm his claim.
Now that he was back home in the privacy of the Temple, he could contact Satine to ask her, but would she give him the answers he was looking for? If it was true that she was killing her own culture, it was possible she would refuse to teach him anything more about that culture.
…And if he did call her, could he handle confronting her about her alleged actions? Would their friendship survive it if he did? Did he even want to be her friend still, if it were all true?
With a sigh, he decided to risk it and pulled out his comm and selecting Satine’s code.
“Ben!” Satine greeted with a smile once the call connected, “What a nice surprise.”
“Hello, my dear.” he smiled back, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
“Oh no, not at all. I’m done with meetings for the day. How can I help you?”
“I find myself confused over a particular Mandalorian custom I was hoping you could help me decode?”
She frowned, “I of course would be happy to help you, but I do hope you haven't gotten yourself into any trouble.”
“I don’t think so.” he reassured, “I’m just curious.”
“Alright.”
“What does it mean if a Mandalorian puts a dagger or knife in the empty sheath of another?”
She blinked in surprise, “It’s an old, rather barbaric tradition.” she sighed, “One that not even traditionalists do much of anymore.”
“Okay, but what does it mean? What does it do?”
“It used to be that when a Mandalorian was ready to be courted, they would wear an empty sheath. If another was interested, they would slip a dagger or knife into that sheath. If the first is interested back, they keep the blade offered, and the two begin courting. People back then really failed to realize they could just communicate with words, rather than instruments of violence.”
Obi-Wan blushed. He couldn’t say he agreed with Satine on that. It was—well, it was certainly a suggestive way to go about things, but it was also kind of sweet. Weapons were basically a religion to Mandalorians. To give one to another spoke volumes, and really, remembering that, he was surprised he didn’t catch a clue earlier on his own.
Satine was frowning at him, “Ben, did…did some barbarian slip their knife into a sheath of yours?”
Obi-Wan blushed redder, “In my defense, I didn’t know what it meant to walk around with an empty sheath! I lost mine in a scuffle to stop a mugging, and figured I could just replace it later. I walked into Little Keldabe to get some tiingilar and some shig leaves. Some Mando slipped a dagger in my sheath and asked to meet for latemeal tomorrow before disappearing.”
“Ben, you need to give the dagger back! You’re not some prize to be won!”
“I doubt it’s that big of a deal, Satine, they seemed friendly, and the dagger is pretty nice.”
“They still took advantage of you to claim you in an outdated and barbaric way! Give it back!”
“Is it really so possessive when I still have the option to back out?” Obi-Wan countered, “Or are you so against it just because the tradition is part of Mandalore’s history? I’ve heard things about your laws today.”
“I’m just doing what is best for Mandalore, Ben, you know this. We can’t find peace when people cling to barbaric ways of the past.”
“You banned Mando’a.”
“A language steeped in violence! Even a simple greeting more accurately translates to ‘You’re still alive’ as if it’s a surprise that it’s possible! They expect death to claim them because they can’t put down their blasters.”
“I can’t agree with cultural genocide, Satine. Your people are scattering because of your governing.”
“Those who can’t adapt to the new ways of Mandalore have no right to stay.”
“You leave your people vulnerable to outside threats, and those who could defend won’t bother to answer your call.”
“I’m not a warlord! I didn’t take the title of Mand’alor. I’m a Duchess. I have no reason to call on barbarians to kill and be killed in my name. I refuse.”
Obi-Wan shook his head, “I hope for your sake war will not find you.”
“It won’t. Mandalore is living in peace. And you would do well to heed my advice and give that dagger back.” she said before ending the call.
Obi-Wan sighed, dropping the comm on his bedside table and leaning back as he picked the dagger back up to look at.
There was no harm in giving the Mando a shot. But he knew he’d have to be upfront about what he was.
Obi-Wan was back in his armor. Not fully, or as obviously as the day before since he was going to Dex’s, rather than all the way to Little Keldabe. He left his helmet behind completely, and pulled his brown cloak on over the armor to conceal it. The sheath and dagger were strapped in place, but he traded his blasters for his lightsaber.
Hood up over his red hair, and braid hanging loose behind his ear, the senior padawan hurried to his favorite diner. Arriving and slipping inside, he looked around, finding his mysterious Mando was already there and had claimed a booth.
“Obi-Wan!” Dex boomed happily when the owner of the diner spotted him.
He gave the Besalisk a wide smile as Dex lumbered forward and pulled him off his feet in a tight, four armed hug that caused his hood to fall off his head, “Hey Dex.”
“You have a shell protecting your soft squishy self this time.” his friend commented, setting him down.
“I can’t tell if you approve or not.”
“Oh, I approve. You humans and near humans are far too delicate. Now, I’ll set you up with a special.”
“Thank you, I’m actually meeting someone here, so if you can send my food out with theirs?”
“Business or pleasure?”
“I think it’d count as a date.”
“Pleasure then, I’ll cover you both.” Dex said, patting Obi-Wan on the shoulder before heading back to his grill.
Obi-Wan made his way over to the Mando and slid into the seat across from them. “Hello there.”
A helmeted head tilted, curious, “I’ve never seen Dex greet someone like that.”
“He’s known me since I was pretty young, and I did save him when we first met, so I suppose he has a soft spot for me.” Obi-Wan chuckled, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, he/him.”
The Mando removed their helmet and set it aside on the table, “Jango Fett, he/him.”
Oh, hello handsome.
Jango turned out to be a human or near with warm brown skin and dark curly hair. His eyes a soft honey brown. He was also a bit older than Obi-Wan, but the Jedi did have a bit of a thing for older men, so that certainly wasn’t a bad thing.
“It’s nice to finally meet the man who was bold enough to slip their rather beautiful dagger into my sheath. Are you sure you want to offer it?”
“It’s a Fett family heirloom. It’s been passed down through the generations for this very use. Once an ad is old enough, they are passed the dagger to offer to their cyare. I’ve carried it for years in search, so yes, I was quite sure when I decided to offer it to you.”
“I could have stolen it.”
“I had faith you wouldn’t. Besides, if you had, I’m a hunter, I would have tracked you down.”
“Still, you don’t know me.”
“Yet. That’s what this date is for, mesh’la.”
FLO rolled over with their food and set it down on the table for them before rolling away again.
“...I feel that if we are to do this, you should know that I’m a Jedi.” Obi-Wan confessed.
Jango only gave a nodding hum as he chewed a bite of his food, “I had assumed it was a possibility.” he said to Obi-Wan’s surprise. “Your aliik. There aren’t many who can teach the ways of the Ka’ra. Those who have that blessing have needed to go to outsiders for that training. Pretty sure the Force is close enough to the Ka’ra for the training to work, and you are here on the planet where most Jedi live. Plus that braid of yours is quite telling, Jet’ika. If I had an issue with it, I wouldn’t have made my move.”
That was surprising. The man was perceptive, which wasn’t all that surprising considering he was a bounty hunter, but his attitude was.
“I am Jedi first. Two years ago I was on Mandalore. A blacksmith said I had earned my armor. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know what an empty sheath meant. I had a very fast lesson on that after you approached me.”
Jango smiled, “Yet you didn’t return my dagger as soon as you saw me again.”
“I may be glad for my mistake.” Obi-Wan smiled back, “Though my master would not approve. I have at least a year left of training, and he keeps us both very busy. I’ll have more free time once I’m knighted.”
Jango nodded, “We can exchange comm codes to keep in contact when we can’t meet up. Mhi solus tome, Mhi solus dar’tome.”
Obi-Wan flushed a deep red, “Those are marriage vows!” he eeped.
“They are, but not in full. Nothing says we cannot live those parts while courting.” Jango smiled, reaching across the table to take Obi-Wan’s hand. “And you have already trusted me with your truth, cyare, that is the second step in courting, you know.”
Obi-Wan shook his head, “I just felt it was information you should know up front. Not all Mandalorians would take kindly to a Jedi.”
“True.” he agreed, “And I can see where had things gone differently on Galidraan, I would have likely felt the same.”
“Were you on Galidraan?”
Jango nodded, “I was. We got very lucky things didn’t happen the way the Governor and Death Watch had planned.”
“From what I’ve heard, I agree. Many good people would have died, and it would have renewed hostilities between the Jedi and Mandalorians.”
“You weren’t there?”
Obi-Wan shook his head, “I was fourteen. It wasn’t the kind of mission for Padawan Learners. The youngest sent were Senior Padawans. I was on Melida/Daan.”
Jango looked alarmed, “They wouldn’t send a fourteen year old to face Mandalorians, but they would send him into a warzone?”
“Ah, you’ve heard of it.”
“Of course I have. Not much was known about it until a little after Galidraan, but then we heard about the war, how ade fought against their dar’buir’e to end it. We paused in our hunt for Death Watch to go provide additional aid to the ade. There ended up being more than one adoption of the youngest members.”
“I was one of their generals. Of the Young.” Obi-Wan confessed, “My Master and I were sent there to rescue another Jedi after her attempts to negotiate peace between the two Eldar factions went south, and we just happened to be the closest team to get to her. The Young helped us, and I wanted to help them. Master left me behind and took my lightsaber. I’ve never been the greatest Jedi, I was lucky he was willing to take me back after we ended the war.”
“I’ve decided I don’t like your Jetii’cabur.” Jango huffed, “There is nothing that justifies abandoning an ad, let alone abandoning one in such a dangerous place. And while I can’t testify if you are a good Jedi or not, you certainly have Mandokar.” he leaned over, bringing Obi-Wan’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Though I admit you are a bit younger than I had assumed.”
“How much younger?”
“Nine standard if you were fourteen when Galidraan happened.”
“Is that a problem for you?”
Jango shook his head, “You aren’t fourteen now.”
“Twenty.” Obi-Wan agreed.
“We’ll take this courting slow if you wish to continue forward. I don’t want to make you feel pressured into anything.”
“It’s for the best, seeing as being a Jedi will keep us at a distance until I am knighted.” Obi-Wan agreed, “Though that’s not to say I’m not already looking forward to a more physical relationship.” he winked, winning a blush from the older man.
“To be fair, I’m also quite busy.”
“Being a bounty hunter?”
Jango gave a so-so gesture, “How much do you know about Mandalore’s political climate?”
“I know Duchess Satine is in charge and is driving many off into the wider galaxy with her laws. I also know her family only gained the power she now has after Mand’alor Mereel’s death where he couldn’t step in to stop the power grab. Death Watch’s leader claims the title but his claim comes from nothing more than the fact that he was born to the same clan that an ancient Mand’alor had been a part of, ignoring the fact that Mand’alor Vizsla had named his heir to be someone outside the Vizsla clan. Only those in Death Watch recognize his claim.”
“Mereel had an heir.” Jango said with a sad smile, “But his heir was still too young when he was betrayed. Not ready to take on the pressures of being Mand’alor. A group of Mereel’s most trusted took it upon themselves to protect him until he was ready.”
“But in the meantime Mandalore was fracturing further and clan Kryze made their move?” Obi-Wan asked.
Jango nodded, “We’re now trying to reunite. Death Watch has been slowing us down, so we have been hunting them, but Mereel’s heir is rebuilding the unity that was lost, then we will move to take back our home.”
“And you are helping the heir?”
Jango gave a small chuckle and shrugged, voice dipping into a whisper, “You trusted me with your identity, so I’ll trust you with mine. I am Jaster Mereel’s adopted ad, and his heir. I’m not helping, I’m leading.”
“And you still wish to court me?” Obi-Wan asked in surprise.
Jango smiled, “What, can’t a man have a treat? Someone special to talk to between hunts and campaigns?”
“I wouldn’t be a distraction?”
“Only when I’m in need of one, Ob’ika, and only when you are willing.”
Obi-Wan smiled and took out the dagger, spinning it between his fingers to make the light catch on the blade, “I think I’ll hold onto this for a while longer, then, my dear.”
Obi-Wan smiled as he watched his young padawan debate with his agemates over whether podraces or swoop races were more exciting. It had been a stressful adjustment after the Naboo mission he’d gone into as a Senior Padawan with a Master had him leaving a fresh Knight with a Padawan. He mourned, sought help from older knights, and did his best on helping Anakin adjust from his old life as a slave to his new free life as a Padawan. Anakin was still younger than other Padawans. He’d just turned ten, and most didn’t reach Padawan rank until they were at least eleven. As such, Obi-Wan stayed in the temple to help Anakin catch up on the younger lessons, not taking any solo missions like most new knights did. But it was worth it to see Anakin come out of his shell and start to thrive with others his age.
He stepped fully into the room and cleared his throat to catch the attention of the children. “Anakin, the Council has called for us.”
The boy perked up, “Are we getting a mission?!”
“It is a possibility, but if so, it probably won’t be an exciting one. You’re still much younger than most, my dear.”
“Let me fly the ship and it’ll be plenty exciting!” the boy said, jumping to his feet.
“We’ll see. You can assist on the way there and if you do well I’ll consider letting you do more on the way back. I will be there with you the entire time, however.”
They made their way to the Council chamber and stood in the center of the circle.
“Masters.” he bowed and Anakin copied him quickly.
“Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker.” Mace nodded, “We have a diplomatic mission that you have been personally requested for, Knight Kenobi.”
“Oh?”
“The Duchess Kryze has requested your return to Mandalore to help her navigate some political matters. We explained that you were not on the active roster, but she insisted. She also reassured us it would be safe for you to take young Skywalker along with you.”
“I feel I should remind the Council that I do have a personal relationship with a Mandalorian who opposes the Duchess’ rule.” He had reported the fact that he was being courted by a Mandalorian after he and Jango had settled on giving a relationship between them a shot. Qui-Gon had only been told that there was a relationship, but not that it was with a Mandalorian.
“We remember, but the Duchess was insisting she would only trust one of the two that protected her previously, and seeing as Master Jinn is one with the Force, you are the only one she’ll accept. We are trusting you to do your duty and remain neutral between what your Mandalorian would think, and what the Duchess needs.”
“Of course.” Obi-Wan bowed.
“You went to Mandalore before, Obi?” Anakin asked with wide eyes.
Obi-Wan nodded, “I spent a year there protecting the Duchess as she went on the run from a group of terrorists who wished to assassinate her.”
“Sounds romantic!” the boy grinned, and Obi-Wan gave him an unamused look. “What? Isn’t she your girlfriend? You said you were in a relationship!”
“Not with the Duchess, no. I’m with another Mandalorian I met a couple of years after the Mandalore mission.”
“How come I haven't met her?”
“Him, and because he has his duties that come first, and I have mine. We haven't had the chance to meet up since before Naboo. But this isn’t the time for twenty questions, Padawan mine. We are still before the council.”
“Oh, right, sorry!”
“Quite alright, Padawan.” Mace chuckled, “You are still only ten and you haven't had the mission simulation course yet. You don’t know how mission briefs are conducted, and it is nice to see more of your personality shine through as you were always so shy and scared when in this room, previously.”
Admittedly, some of that had to do with the fact that Anakin now knew his mother was safe. Obi-Wan had spoken to Quinlan who had been going to the outer rim for a mission and asked him to help the boy’s mother get free if he got the chance. Quinlan was able to do so, and got her settled on a much nicer planet before forwarding a message from her. The Council didn’t know about any of that, though.
They finished the mission brief and Obi-Wan guided Anakin back to their apartment to pack. Obi-Wan itched to take his full beskar’gam, but knew Satine would have a fit, so instead, he packed only a few pieces he could wear comfortably under his robes.
His dagger was also packed.
“Ben!” Satine greeted Obi-Wan with a wide grin as he and Anakin stepped off their ship, “So good to see you again. I must say long hair looks good on you, but I’m not sure about that beard.”
“Duchess. I was surprised by your request for me. I had thought you were displeased with me after our last conversation.”
“I was, but then I remembered how much you love to learn about cultures and realized you were just wanting to see it preserved in some way. So I’ve had a restricted section added to the library to house any material on Mandalore’s old culture. And I wanted you to see how far Mandalore has come in peace, so when some frustrating issues came up, I requested you, Ben.”
“Who’s Ben?” Anakin asked with a wrinkle on his nose.
“Oh, you must be Ben’s padawan! I must say I didn’t quite believe that when I was told. Aren’t you still young to take on one?”
“A lot has happened that led Anakin to be under my care, but yes, this is my Padawan Learner, Anakin Skywalker. Ani, this is the Duchess Satine.”
“But Ben?” the boy asked.
“That would be me. It’s the name I used while I was here last time so that I wouldn’t stand out as much.”
“I don’t like it.” the boy shook his head, “You’re Obi.”
“It’s just what she calls me, dear one. You don’t have to do the same.”
The boy nodded and clung to Obi-Wan’s hand.
“Well, shall we head inside?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Of course. I’ve had rooms set up for you, so you can get your padawan all settled in before we get started on business.” Satine said, hooking her arm with Obi-Wan’s before she paused, feeling his vambraces. “I thought you got rid of the armor.”
I offered my armor to the Sundari blacksmith, but they told me to keep it. I do wear pieces of it from time to time.
She made a disapproving sound with her tongue.
“I’m a Jedi, Satine, Jedi get shot at a lot for simply being Jedi. My armor has protected me.”
“You don’t need it here, we are peaceful!”
“I don’t wear it to imply that your Mandalore is dangerous. I’m not even wearing the full set. I’m just wearing what I find comfortable, mostly out of habit.”
“Well, feel free to leave it all in your room.” she said, letting go of him and leading them to said room to drop their things off.
“I can have a droid bring your padawan his meal.” Satine said, “And we can have ours while discussing business.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Ani here would possibly dig into the droid to make improvements. Plus he is my Padawan Learner. It won’t hurt for him to start learning these things early while we’re here.” Obi-Wan said, not liking the way Satine seemed to not just ignore Anakin, but also have him left behind.
“Yeah, I can’t be trusted with droids when I get bored.” Anakin grinned.
“Oh.” she pulled Obi-Wan aside, “I don’t think it’s wise to expose him to this matter, Ben.”
“Whyever not. I thought you reassured the Council that there would be no danger to my ten year old charge.
Satine sputtered, “He’s not in danger! He’s just—children are so malleable when they are young. I don’t want him to pick up any bad habits from the other side of the table in this matter.”
“He’s my padawan, Satine, I’ll make the decisions regarding such things. If I agree with you, then I’ll make arrangements, but until then, he’ll stay with me.”
“I just think—”
“Just because my ears are little doesn’t mean they work less. I can hear you, you know.” Anakin interrupted, “Obi says I’ll stay with him, so I’ll stay with him!”
“We can send you to the nearby school to be with others your age.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Anakin, please.”
“Sorry, Obi.”
Satine, at least, gave up and agreed, leading them back out of their room.
“I kinda don’t like her.” Anakin whispered. “I can feel she’s not happy I’m here.”
“I know, Ani, but we need to be nice.”
They walked into a meeting room where a group of Satine’s council sat along one side of the table. Standing around the room and pointedly not sitting yet were a number of traditional Mandalorians in full armor, one of which straightened when he spotted them.
Ignoring Satine as she introduced the Jedi, he strolled forward and pulled Obi-Wan into a keldabe kiss. “Ob’ika, you didn't tell me you were coming back to Mandalore.”
“I’m just as surprised to see you here, my dear. Last you messaged me you were hunting down another cell of Death Watch.”
Jango’s helmeted head tilted, “I suppose we haven’t spoken in a while. I like your beard, you hadn't had that when last we spoke.” he then tilted his head down to look at Anakin next to Obi-Wan who was looking up with a calculating look, “You must be Anakin.”
Anakin nodded.
“Obi-Wan has told me a lot about you, ad’ika. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“And am I meeting you, helmet-face?”
Jango laughed and reached up to take off his helmet, “I’m Jango.”
Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, “This the Mando guy?”
“It is.”
Anakin turned back to Jango, “You’re pretty wizard then, I guess.”
“Ben, what’s going on?” Satine butted in.
“I slipped my dagger into his sheath. He never gave it back.” Jango smirked.
“I told you to give it back!”
“You did suggest that, but it was my choice, and I decided to keep it.”
“This is unacceptable, you’re supposed to help me negotiate!”
“I believe the Council would have told you that I had a personal relationship in connection to Mandalore, you still demanded that I be sent. I assure you that I will uphold my duty and remain impartial in my official actions here.”
“I thought they were referencing me!”
“Satine, the Council only cares about possible conflicts of interest when it comes to family ties and romantic partners. Jedi make friends all over the Galaxy, it’d be impossible to send us out if every friendship were treated like that.”
“How can I trust that you’ll help me do what’s best for my Mandalore if you’re letting Fett court you?”
“You misunderstand, a Jedi is never here to take sides. We are meant to be a neutral party helping to bridge the differences between both sides to come to the best possible outcome, hopefully leaving both sides equally happy with the overall results. I’m perfectly capable of doing so.”
“I understand he will not be able to support my side completely and will side with you at times. I do not hold it against him.” Jango spoke up, “Shall we begin?”
“We’ll give it a try.” she sighed and moved to take her seat. The Mandos all also finding their own seats across from the New Mandalorians. Obi-Wan took his spot at the end of the table between the two groups.
“Obi, where do I go?”
“This time I believe you can sit wherever you wish. You’ll be watching, not participating.”
The boy nodded and hurried over to Jango, climbing into his lap.
Jango chuckled and put his helmet on the boy’s head.
“Wizard!”
Obi-Wan felt his heart melt at Jango’s care and acceptance of his padawan.
“Well, let's get started with each side explaining their side of things. Satine, as you were the one to request Jedi assistance, you have the floor first.” he said, getting things started.
The evening after finally reaching an agreement between Satine and Jango, Obi-Wan and Anakin took latemeal with the Mandalorians on their ship. Anakin was thrilled with the spicy food offered to him. Tatooine’s cuisine also tended to lean towards spice, so the boy was showing a healthy appetite compared to when he was served blander foods. The boy had made friends with some of Jango’s commandos and had joined them at another table, leaving Obi-Wan to sit at a smaller table with Jango and his closest men, whom he considered his family.
“So, what’s next now that you’ve taken care of the situation here?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Oh, you know, take out any Death Watch stragglers, work on rebuilding a proper home base for all Mandalorians, and hopefully exchange marriage vows with my cyare.”
Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, his cheeks pink, “You think we’re ready?”
“I do. You’re a knight, now, I have my title secured, and you’ve adopted us an ad in your own Jedi way of adopting. All we need is our vows.”
Obi-Wan smiled, “I think I can do that.”
Jango smiled and pulled him into a kiss as spicy as their food. Around them commandos whooped and whistled while Anakin covered his face.
“Ewwww, Obi!”
Obi-Wan broke the kiss with a laugh, “You’ll understand one day, dear one.”
“Oh, I understand. Padmé is pretty and kissing her would be nice, I think. But I don't want to see you kissing!”
Jango laughed, “Padmé, huh? Well to me, Obi-Wan is like my Padmé. Very pretty and kissing him is very nice.”
“But he’s my Ma—my Obi!” Anakin understandably still had difficulties with using the term master, and Obi-Wan refused to force him to use it.
“Well, what if tonight you stayed here on the ship with my commandos and I go back with Obi-Wan so I could kiss him where you can’t see?”
“Can I?”
Obi-Wan smiled, “If you want.”
“I’m staying!”
“Any objections to us giving the ad some training?” Mij asked.
“No, he’d find it fun, and I trust you all to keep things age-appropriate.” He agreed.
“Yes!” Anakin pumped a fist.
Not long after latemeal ended, Obi-Wan and Jango returned to the room the Jedi had been given for their stay in Sundari. Foreheads together, they spoke their vows.
“Mhi solus tome, Mhi solus dar’tome. Mhi me’dinui an, Mhi ba’juri verde.”
And then they were falling into bed together, tugging at each other’s clothes.
-End-