FIC: Don't Die Quinlan Vos het
Title: Don't Die
Author: helgaleena
helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Main characters: Khaleen Hentz, Quinlan Vos
prompt: The Divine Child
028: children
Rating: R
wordcount: 788
Summary: She wanted to tell him, and didn't know how.
Warnings: sex and violence implied
Notes: set during Siege of Saleucami, Clone Wars: vol. 8 by Ostrander and Duursema... missing scene, sort of.
Saleucami. Evening. Their room.
"Skorr said to me, 'I could make you suffer in so many ways, but I won't. Just tell Vos to be down in the caverns tomorrow," and I think he wants to kill you, Quin--"
"Oh, yeh. And I want to kill him, too. So what? Everybody dies. Even Jedi."
She wanted to say-- Quin, you're creeping me out.
Quin, don't die.
"Quin--" she managed.
"Hush now, baby-- we take our pleasures when we can."
She couldn't tell him then. He had her locked in his muscular embrace so tightly she thought she'd snap in two if his arms were any shorter. As it was, every breath she took drove her chest into his, with the nipples getting so tender now.
One of the bird sounds he knew how to make-- she'd never been one to tell one bird sound from another-- he whistled whimsically into her ear. It made her smile a bit, as if the subject of death and killing had been dropped. But it hadn't. He hadn't even told her who died. But someone had, some great Jedi maybe. This was a war. Beings died, in big batches. What if they had saved each others' lives, all these times, and bam, they were dead? Did he smell their deaths coming, with his spooky powers?
For the longest time he just held her hard against him, waiting for her to fight him, to get impatient, as she usually did, with captivity. There was no motion except the rise and fall of their chests, the hammering of their hearts.
What would he do if he knew? He wanted to kill now-- he was rejoicing in being a killer. He wanted to kill Skorr. He wanted to kill the Jedi killers. He wanted to wipe out the Anzati and the Morugkai they were growing. And someplace, that second Sith... Even here, safe in the circle of his arms, he could switch and decide to kill her at any moment, if it would put him closer to those kills.
No attachments. Well, making babies was an attachment. Truly, she didn't know herself about being a parent, but her body was all for it. And her body was making her hold her tongue just now about it. Her body was afraid to die. And it was attached-- to him.
She craned her neck up to look at him, under his hair. It was as if he had retreated to somewhere back behind his face, beneath the crazy grin, the red skin and yellow stripes and stubble.
"Quin--" And the dark eyes came back, focused on her. "Don't die." We don't want you to die, me and my body with the baby in it, there has to be a way to tell you-- She didn't move. She wasn't sure even now, what he would do. He was one scary Jedi right now.
His grin got bigger, revealing both rows of his chalky teeth. "Who, me?" he said.
As if it hadn't occurred to him that he could, and that he didn't believe it could happen. He was laughing at her. Her annoyance began to simmer at that, and as if he could smell it, he began to nuzzle at her neck, sniffing it in, licking it off her with his rough tongue. He knew he could change it to passion.
And he did. She was consumed. He bit at her, and all the while she knew he was thinking of someone else, that he'd like to tear apart. If she wanted to hide in him, just put her head in his lap and nurse, she didn't get that. He rammed himself into her, pinning someone else to a wall with his thrusts. And yet he felt what she felt, knew her so well, that when he drank her up, she was pulsing with the joy of it, even as the tears leaked out. Because as she slipped into sleep, full of him, he could die tomorrow, and she was attached. "I'm sorry," she sobbed.
"I'll kill them first, baby," he whispered, as he wrapped her in the covers, his eyes still on fire.
But when she woke up, Quin wasn't there, and Skorr was. Him and his Anzati buddies.
"Oh, now I'm suffering," she said. "Because I have to look at you." That earned her a slap, not hard enough to bruise. She didn't bother to express herself after that.
Bullies were the same, the galaxy over. He was just another one. She contented herself, during all the ways he amused his twisted mind, with a private litany-- Quin will kill you. He will kill you.
She knew it was true, like sunrise. Like the child.
end
table: http://community.livejournal.com/quinlanvos100/4568.html
Author: helgaleena
helgaleenas@yahoo.com
Main characters: Khaleen Hentz, Quinlan Vos
prompt: The Divine Child
028: children
Rating: R
wordcount: 788
Summary: She wanted to tell him, and didn't know how.
Warnings: sex and violence implied
Notes: set during Siege of Saleucami, Clone Wars: vol. 8 by Ostrander and Duursema... missing scene, sort of.
Saleucami. Evening. Their room.
"Skorr said to me, 'I could make you suffer in so many ways, but I won't. Just tell Vos to be down in the caverns tomorrow," and I think he wants to kill you, Quin--"
"Oh, yeh. And I want to kill him, too. So what? Everybody dies. Even Jedi."
She wanted to say-- Quin, you're creeping me out.
Quin, don't die.
"Quin--" she managed.
"Hush now, baby-- we take our pleasures when we can."
She couldn't tell him then. He had her locked in his muscular embrace so tightly she thought she'd snap in two if his arms were any shorter. As it was, every breath she took drove her chest into his, with the nipples getting so tender now.
One of the bird sounds he knew how to make-- she'd never been one to tell one bird sound from another-- he whistled whimsically into her ear. It made her smile a bit, as if the subject of death and killing had been dropped. But it hadn't. He hadn't even told her who died. But someone had, some great Jedi maybe. This was a war. Beings died, in big batches. What if they had saved each others' lives, all these times, and bam, they were dead? Did he smell their deaths coming, with his spooky powers?
For the longest time he just held her hard against him, waiting for her to fight him, to get impatient, as she usually did, with captivity. There was no motion except the rise and fall of their chests, the hammering of their hearts.
What would he do if he knew? He wanted to kill now-- he was rejoicing in being a killer. He wanted to kill Skorr. He wanted to kill the Jedi killers. He wanted to wipe out the Anzati and the Morugkai they were growing. And someplace, that second Sith... Even here, safe in the circle of his arms, he could switch and decide to kill her at any moment, if it would put him closer to those kills.
No attachments. Well, making babies was an attachment. Truly, she didn't know herself about being a parent, but her body was all for it. And her body was making her hold her tongue just now about it. Her body was afraid to die. And it was attached-- to him.
She craned her neck up to look at him, under his hair. It was as if he had retreated to somewhere back behind his face, beneath the crazy grin, the red skin and yellow stripes and stubble.
"Quin--" And the dark eyes came back, focused on her. "Don't die." We don't want you to die, me and my body with the baby in it, there has to be a way to tell you-- She didn't move. She wasn't sure even now, what he would do. He was one scary Jedi right now.
His grin got bigger, revealing both rows of his chalky teeth. "Who, me?" he said.
As if it hadn't occurred to him that he could, and that he didn't believe it could happen. He was laughing at her. Her annoyance began to simmer at that, and as if he could smell it, he began to nuzzle at her neck, sniffing it in, licking it off her with his rough tongue. He knew he could change it to passion.
And he did. She was consumed. He bit at her, and all the while she knew he was thinking of someone else, that he'd like to tear apart. If she wanted to hide in him, just put her head in his lap and nurse, she didn't get that. He rammed himself into her, pinning someone else to a wall with his thrusts. And yet he felt what she felt, knew her so well, that when he drank her up, she was pulsing with the joy of it, even as the tears leaked out. Because as she slipped into sleep, full of him, he could die tomorrow, and she was attached. "I'm sorry," she sobbed.
"I'll kill them first, baby," he whispered, as he wrapped her in the covers, his eyes still on fire.
But when she woke up, Quin wasn't there, and Skorr was. Him and his Anzati buddies.
"Oh, now I'm suffering," she said. "Because I have to look at you." That earned her a slap, not hard enough to bruise. She didn't bother to express herself after that.
Bullies were the same, the galaxy over. He was just another one. She contented herself, during all the ways he amused his twisted mind, with a private litany-- Quin will kill you. He will kill you.
She knew it was true, like sunrise. Like the child.
end
table: http://community.livejournal.com/quinlanvos100/4568.html