writers_muses prompt 110.6 ["siren"]
The one and only time Claire felt even close to being at peace was when she was in the middle of space. Where there was nothing but darkness and stars around her like a sweet canopy of nothingness. Out here, she rarely needed to be anyone but who she was. She didn’t need to pose as an Ambassador or a Senator’s daughter. She very rarely needed to watch herself or what she said. It didn’t matter to those who she traveled with, they knew who she was and they didn’t ask questions nor did they ask for explanations. It wasn’t their place and they knew it. She wasn’t there simply because she was the daughter of someone powerful; when it came down to it, she played the game because she excelled at it. She played because she knew the cards, she knew the players and she was learning to manipulate the outcome like a very good gambler knew how to. It wasn’t her father who had taught her but someone else all together.
It was who she reported to at the end of every mission and it was where her current message was heading to when she heard the rustle of movement behind her. Turning from the screen after cutting off the end, she looked over her shoulder before turning slowly in her chair to watch the young man struggling to wake up.
She knew every muscle in his body would be aching, twitching beneath the surface even though the electricity had stopped long ago. His eyes would be burning, his throat would be dry and every thought would feel scattered in a mess that was hard to clean up inside of his head. She had no doubt he would regain control quickly, he wasn’t the type to stay confused for long but it was still a pleasure to watch him struggle. Especially when he struggled against the bonds that felt like silk but were as hard as steel, keeping him tied to the chair where he had been placed shortly after he had been rendered unconscious.
As he realized he was trapped, she watched his head snap up in surprise, the slight flare of something undefined flickering over his features before he realized he was being watched. As soon as he laid his eyes on her, she saw the intent to murder mixing in with the seething hatred he was feeling at the moment. She guessed he was also feeling like a fool. Being a Sith assassin, he really shouldn’t have been bested by a slip of a girl and her little army but it was clear he had been somewhat out of his league.
Maybe he would do his homework next time.
“Is your throat dry?” She asked casually, almost as though she cared. She didn’t wait for his answer though because what did it matter to her if his throat was dry or not? Or maybe it didn’t matter if he actually answered her.
He didn’t, of course. Instead he merely glared at her, tracking her movements as she uncrossed her legs to rise to her feet so that she could walk over to the table and pour some water into an oddly shaped blue glass. His eyes studied her, drinking her in as he noted the flowing material that skimmed over her curves and really did little to hide anything even though he couldn’t see beneath the dark folds. He wasn’t admiring her though, he was just checking her weapons while wondering how to kill someone who seemed to rise from the dead.
Claire caught the way he was watching her and she irritated him further by giving him a knowing smirk as she carried the glass over to him. “Open up.” She murmured, her voice teasing his senses as she held the cup to his lips. When he refused, she laughed. “I have no intentions of killing you, so there’s no poison. Your throat is dry and it hurts, and I’m only trying to help you which is what I’ve been trying to do all along.”
“Then send the Haitian away.” He snapped at her, his voice hoarse. No, the Haitian wasn’t in the room with them but he could still feel the voice where the Force had been before. He knew the dark skinned man had to be nearby, if he wasn’t right outside her chambers.
“No, I don’t think I will.” She sniffed at him, shaking her head. “I’m not really in the mood to die again. You owe me some armor already as it is.” She pointed out as she pressed the cup to his lips a little harder, pinning the plump flesh between the cool glass and his teeth. “But you can drown. So you might as well swallow.” She barely warned him before tipping the cup, pouring the water against his lips and into his mouth as he tried to pull in some air.
Of course he choked a little bit, sputtering some water and splashing her in the process but he managed to gain control long enough to swallow down the sweet and cool water. She was right, his throat was sore and dry, and so the water was a blessing and pleasure though he wouldn’t show her that he was enjoying it. After a moment, she pulled the glass away and smiled. “If you’re good, I’ll give you wine next time.”
There was no doubt in her mind he was considering choking her again, just to see if he could make it stick this time.
“Where are my things?” He asked her then, having noticed that he was only wearing his pants. His armor, his tunic and his lightsaber were gone.
“Over there.” She nodded towards the pile that was on top of her dresser. “I thought we would be able to have a more civil talk if we weren’t both ready to fight.”
“Then you should untie me.” He snarled defiantly.
“I don’t think so.” She rebuked him again with a chuckle. “I told you, I don’t feel like dying. It’s just a waste of time after all.” She walked back towards him with a predatory glint to her eyes. “Which reminds me that I do owe you.”
The sudden blow across his face didn’t really surprise him as he could imagine she had been waiting to do that for awhile but the force behind it did. She knew how to hit, it seemed, as his head snapped to the side and his cheek burned. It was instinct for someone to hold back when they hit someone, if only to save them from breaking something in their hand, but she didn’t. She put everything she had behind the punch and he was sure he heard an ugly little crack when her fist connected with his face but she didn’t show a reaction as she stepped back. She merely gave her hand a little shake before smiling at him. “We’re not even of course, but that will do for now.”
“You won’t get a chance to do that again.” He was gritting his teeth, hating that he couldn’t do anything back to her.
“Please, I don’t think you hated that as much as you’re pretending.” There was that spoiled little smirk again, like she knew something he didn’t. She was right though and they both knew it because he had felt something deep down when she had hit him. It wasn’t anything he was going to look closely at though, not right now.
“What do you want from me?”
“I thought I had already made that clear when I gave you the cube.” Now she sounded somewhat irritated, speaking slowly as though she were speaking to an idiot.
“You want me to be your little mission boy.” He scowled at her. “Because you and your father are too scared to go against the Emperor yourself.”
He fully expected her to hit him again but she surprised him once more by laughing. “Not at all.” She shook her head as she suddenly swung a leg over his, sliding down to settle on his lap as she faced him on a more even setting. “You weren’t listening to what I was offering you, Starkiller.”
He was confused by why she was sitting on him and it made him tense though he didn’t find it all that unpleasant. “What....”
“I was offering you something your so-called Master couldn’t.” As she brought her hand up, her fingers skimmed lightly over where she had just punched him. The skin was more sensitive than before and he felt his muscles twitch as she pressed her fingertips against them. It gave him a twinge as she applied more pressure, adding some pain into the strange mixture of heat he was feeling.
“Why me? There are plenty of other Siths, or even other people, who would happily take your offer.” He tried to focus on her words instead and not the feel of her straddling him. The heat of her skin was something he wasn’t used to because the only time he touched someone was to kill them. He was more familiar with bodies growing cooler instead of hotter which was what she seemed to be doing as her fingers started to slide to his jaw. “How do you know I won’t betray you instead of my Master?”
“I know you won’t, because you can see the importance of a Rebellion. You know the Empire is useless.”
“So you want to bring the Senate back?”
“Not at all.” She laughed again but there was something different about it. The laugh was low and husky, tugging at his insides. He was beginning to wonder if healing wasn’t the only ability she had. “We’re done with the Senate. They’re both tired and useless ideas. What we’re thinking of is an entirely new world order.”
“Who are you talking about when you say ‘we’?” He inquired, his eyes dropping down as she started to lean forward a little.
“You’ll know soon enough.” She assured him as she wet her lips with a peek of her tongue. “But they’re people who are willing to support you, to give you something that the others can’t.”
“And what is that?” He wondered if perhaps the oxygen to the room was being slowly cut off.
“To make you the Sith Lord, something your Masters don’t want. All because they know you’ll be greater than the two of them combined.” She reached up then, sliding her fingers into his hair, smoothing the locks back before her nails brushed over the back of his neck. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth near his ear as her voice dropped to a lower note so that only he could hear. As if she thought someone else was in the room listening. “And you will be greater than them, Galen. I can see it in you and soon I’ll help you so that everyone else will see it too.”
Then she was done with him rather abruptly, slipping away with a low chuckle and leaving him to contemplate her words as she walked out of the chambers with the doors hissing closed behind her.
WC: 1866
[
starkiller_sith is used with lots of love and permission!]
It was who she reported to at the end of every mission and it was where her current message was heading to when she heard the rustle of movement behind her. Turning from the screen after cutting off the end, she looked over her shoulder before turning slowly in her chair to watch the young man struggling to wake up.
She knew every muscle in his body would be aching, twitching beneath the surface even though the electricity had stopped long ago. His eyes would be burning, his throat would be dry and every thought would feel scattered in a mess that was hard to clean up inside of his head. She had no doubt he would regain control quickly, he wasn’t the type to stay confused for long but it was still a pleasure to watch him struggle. Especially when he struggled against the bonds that felt like silk but were as hard as steel, keeping him tied to the chair where he had been placed shortly after he had been rendered unconscious.
As he realized he was trapped, she watched his head snap up in surprise, the slight flare of something undefined flickering over his features before he realized he was being watched. As soon as he laid his eyes on her, she saw the intent to murder mixing in with the seething hatred he was feeling at the moment. She guessed he was also feeling like a fool. Being a Sith assassin, he really shouldn’t have been bested by a slip of a girl and her little army but it was clear he had been somewhat out of his league.
Maybe he would do his homework next time.
“Is your throat dry?” She asked casually, almost as though she cared. She didn’t wait for his answer though because what did it matter to her if his throat was dry or not? Or maybe it didn’t matter if he actually answered her.
He didn’t, of course. Instead he merely glared at her, tracking her movements as she uncrossed her legs to rise to her feet so that she could walk over to the table and pour some water into an oddly shaped blue glass. His eyes studied her, drinking her in as he noted the flowing material that skimmed over her curves and really did little to hide anything even though he couldn’t see beneath the dark folds. He wasn’t admiring her though, he was just checking her weapons while wondering how to kill someone who seemed to rise from the dead.
Claire caught the way he was watching her and she irritated him further by giving him a knowing smirk as she carried the glass over to him. “Open up.” She murmured, her voice teasing his senses as she held the cup to his lips. When he refused, she laughed. “I have no intentions of killing you, so there’s no poison. Your throat is dry and it hurts, and I’m only trying to help you which is what I’ve been trying to do all along.”
“Then send the Haitian away.” He snapped at her, his voice hoarse. No, the Haitian wasn’t in the room with them but he could still feel the voice where the Force had been before. He knew the dark skinned man had to be nearby, if he wasn’t right outside her chambers.
“No, I don’t think I will.” She sniffed at him, shaking her head. “I’m not really in the mood to die again. You owe me some armor already as it is.” She pointed out as she pressed the cup to his lips a little harder, pinning the plump flesh between the cool glass and his teeth. “But you can drown. So you might as well swallow.” She barely warned him before tipping the cup, pouring the water against his lips and into his mouth as he tried to pull in some air.
Of course he choked a little bit, sputtering some water and splashing her in the process but he managed to gain control long enough to swallow down the sweet and cool water. She was right, his throat was sore and dry, and so the water was a blessing and pleasure though he wouldn’t show her that he was enjoying it. After a moment, she pulled the glass away and smiled. “If you’re good, I’ll give you wine next time.”
There was no doubt in her mind he was considering choking her again, just to see if he could make it stick this time.
“Where are my things?” He asked her then, having noticed that he was only wearing his pants. His armor, his tunic and his lightsaber were gone.
“Over there.” She nodded towards the pile that was on top of her dresser. “I thought we would be able to have a more civil talk if we weren’t both ready to fight.”
“Then you should untie me.” He snarled defiantly.
“I don’t think so.” She rebuked him again with a chuckle. “I told you, I don’t feel like dying. It’s just a waste of time after all.” She walked back towards him with a predatory glint to her eyes. “Which reminds me that I do owe you.”
The sudden blow across his face didn’t really surprise him as he could imagine she had been waiting to do that for awhile but the force behind it did. She knew how to hit, it seemed, as his head snapped to the side and his cheek burned. It was instinct for someone to hold back when they hit someone, if only to save them from breaking something in their hand, but she didn’t. She put everything she had behind the punch and he was sure he heard an ugly little crack when her fist connected with his face but she didn’t show a reaction as she stepped back. She merely gave her hand a little shake before smiling at him. “We’re not even of course, but that will do for now.”
“You won’t get a chance to do that again.” He was gritting his teeth, hating that he couldn’t do anything back to her.
“Please, I don’t think you hated that as much as you’re pretending.” There was that spoiled little smirk again, like she knew something he didn’t. She was right though and they both knew it because he had felt something deep down when she had hit him. It wasn’t anything he was going to look closely at though, not right now.
“What do you want from me?”
“I thought I had already made that clear when I gave you the cube.” Now she sounded somewhat irritated, speaking slowly as though she were speaking to an idiot.
“You want me to be your little mission boy.” He scowled at her. “Because you and your father are too scared to go against the Emperor yourself.”
He fully expected her to hit him again but she surprised him once more by laughing. “Not at all.” She shook her head as she suddenly swung a leg over his, sliding down to settle on his lap as she faced him on a more even setting. “You weren’t listening to what I was offering you, Starkiller.”
He was confused by why she was sitting on him and it made him tense though he didn’t find it all that unpleasant. “What....”
“I was offering you something your so-called Master couldn’t.” As she brought her hand up, her fingers skimmed lightly over where she had just punched him. The skin was more sensitive than before and he felt his muscles twitch as she pressed her fingertips against them. It gave him a twinge as she applied more pressure, adding some pain into the strange mixture of heat he was feeling.
“Why me? There are plenty of other Siths, or even other people, who would happily take your offer.” He tried to focus on her words instead and not the feel of her straddling him. The heat of her skin was something he wasn’t used to because the only time he touched someone was to kill them. He was more familiar with bodies growing cooler instead of hotter which was what she seemed to be doing as her fingers started to slide to his jaw. “How do you know I won’t betray you instead of my Master?”
“I know you won’t, because you can see the importance of a Rebellion. You know the Empire is useless.”
“So you want to bring the Senate back?”
“Not at all.” She laughed again but there was something different about it. The laugh was low and husky, tugging at his insides. He was beginning to wonder if healing wasn’t the only ability she had. “We’re done with the Senate. They’re both tired and useless ideas. What we’re thinking of is an entirely new world order.”
“Who are you talking about when you say ‘we’?” He inquired, his eyes dropping down as she started to lean forward a little.
“You’ll know soon enough.” She assured him as she wet her lips with a peek of her tongue. “But they’re people who are willing to support you, to give you something that the others can’t.”
“And what is that?” He wondered if perhaps the oxygen to the room was being slowly cut off.
“To make you the Sith Lord, something your Masters don’t want. All because they know you’ll be greater than the two of them combined.” She reached up then, sliding her fingers into his hair, smoothing the locks back before her nails brushed over the back of his neck. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth near his ear as her voice dropped to a lower note so that only he could hear. As if she thought someone else was in the room listening. “And you will be greater than them, Galen. I can see it in you and soon I’ll help you so that everyone else will see it too.”
Then she was done with him rather abruptly, slipping away with a low chuckle and leaving him to contemplate her words as she walked out of the chambers with the doors hissing closed behind her.
WC: 1866
[
starkiller_sith is used with lots of love and permission!]