A/N: This was a request/challenge piece for DarthObsydian. Therefore it is dedicated to her. It was an interesting piece to write since while not a canon pairing at all… it actually makes a good bit of sense. This is part one of a two part fic. I will get part two up asap. I am a tad delirious with tiredness as I finish this part so hopefully it all makes sense.
Stalking through the halls of Imperial Palace, Ysanne Isard was fuming. She had been nothing but loyal to Palpatine and he kept brushing her off for his new little pet Mara Jade. What did it take to get him to pay attention? What did that brat have that she didn't that so interested him? So livid was she that even the typically stoic Imperial Guards shifted slightly so as not to impede her passage. No one dared cross her when she was like this- they knew the outcome would be fatal. Thus she was surprised when she collided with a figure. Tumbling to the ground with the figure who had dared get in her way she shifted to see their face so she knew who to direct her wrath at. She was startled to see Grand Moff Tarkin.
"Ah, Greetings Madam Director." he said. Her eyes seemed to burn a hole in him while she regarded him with a frosty expression, befitting with her fire and ice eyes.
"Why were you in my way Tarkin?" she snapped "Should you not be with your fleet?" she questioned.
"The Emperor requested my presence regarding a new project." Tarkin said calmly, refusing to let the temperamental new Director of Imperial Intelligence ruffle him. Refusing to engage her took some of the steam out of her, though she still glared as he disentangled himself from her and stood offering his hand.
"I don't need your help!" she snapped, standing on her own.
"Of course not Madam Director. I was merely trying to be a gentleman is all." he said. Smirking a little he added "Some women appreciate that.". Isard brought her hand back to strike him, but he caught her wrist. "I wouldn't do that." he said "However much sway you have with the Emperor-" he broke off as she made a sound of annoyance and pulled her wrist back spinning on her heel to leave. "I see." Tarkin commented.
"See what?" Isard snapped.
"Lovers spat I take it?" he asked. Isard was tempted to tell him to kriff off and mind his own business, but his tone struck her. He did not judge her or question her relationship with the Emperor the way most did.
"Something like that." she sighed, leaning against the wall.
"I must attend to my meeting now, but perhaps you would like to discuss it later… perhaps over dinner?" he offered. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.
"How would your wife feel about that… or your mistress for that matter?" she asked, a slight smirk crossing her face at his startled expression.
"I suppose as Director of Intelligence you would know about that wouldn't you?" he sighed.
"I would not be doing my job if I wasn't aware of what goes on within the Empire." she responded with a nod. "Very well, dinner sounds good. I'll see you tonight… say 1900 standard time?"
"Just so. I will see you then Madam Director." Tarkin responded before continuing down the hallway towards the Throne Room, while Isard made her way back to her quarters. As she did a plan formed in her mind. So the Emperor was going to ignore her? Fine, she would be exactly as loyal as he was. Perhaps it was immature, but she was too furious with him to care at the moment. Shifting her path towards the city proper to acquire what she would need for tonight, she was determined to stun the Moff.
As he raised his hand to buzz the door chime, Tarkin wondered what in the galaxy had made him think it was a good idea to proposition the Director of Imperial Intelligence. True, he'd had a small fight with Daala before he left, but why in stars had he picked Ysanne Isard to relieve his frustrations with. If anything he'd end up more frustrated after tonight, and quite possibly sporting some injury for his efforts. Oh yes, he was well aware of the Director's temper. Rumours flew about the Empire like scavengers to a carcass. He'd done his best to keep his affair with Daala secret, but clearly that wasn't enough if news had made it to Coruscant already. By the same token however, the Director's own affair was known enough. It was only her temper which kept too many from calling it into question. Perhaps her might have to adopt that approach if Daala's promotions continued to be questioned by his subordinates. Certainly her lethal temper appeared to serve her well for the most part, even if it impaired her judgement around the Emperor. As he pressed the buzzer the door opened and he was startled to see Isard not in her typical uniform, but wearing a stunning dress of blood red with golden accents. "You look lovely this evening." he commented. The expression which crossed her face was one of predatory pleasure, and he felt a moment of unease.
"Why thank you Wilhuff." she said pleasantly enough. He noted the use of his first name and responded in kind.
"Are you ready Ysanne?" he asked and she nodded as she stepped outside.
"Of course." she said. They made their way towards his waiting speeder and he steered them towards a new high end restaurant which had recently opened. If she wanted to play things like this, then he would too. Her dress made it clear she hoped for more than a friendly dinner between colleges, and he was quite happy to oblige her for the moment, and not just for fear of what would happen if he did not make her happy. Studying her discretely as he drove, he observed the rumours she kept herself in perfect field agent shape despite being moved out of the field and into the office were certainly true. The dress she wore left little to imagination. As she tilted her head to meet his gaze, aware she was being studied, he quickly focused his eyes ahead of him. Not however before he caught her smug smile. This evening would certainly prove interesting.
Arriving at the restaurant, Tarkin stepped out and extended a hand to Isard. This time she accepted it, her mismatched eyes meeting his for a moment, and he knew in that glance her intent for tonight was the same as his. Perhaps this had not been such a mistake after all. Throughout the dinner neither betrayed the slightest hint of affection. They were both consummate professionals after all. Neither would make such an elemental mistake as to allow any hint of what took place, or would likely soon take place, to show in a public place where rumours would spread faster than a hydraulics fluid fuelled fire. As they spoke he found he quite appreciated her intelligence and dark wit along with her beauty. There was no denying the Director was a very attractive woman. Far from detract from her looks, her mismatched fire and ice eyes gave her an exotic air.
"Tell me" he said, keeping his voice low enough not to be heard by passers by "Are the rumours I hear true?" he asked. She raised a brow and her eyes sparkled with a dark sort of mischief.
"That depends what rumour you are enquiring about." she responded.
"Regarding your promotion." he said. Catching her sharp glare he cleared his throat and quickly clarified "I refer to your initiation to your position of course. I do not doubt you were appointed based solely on merit in the least. You are far more skilled than your father ever was at reading people." he added in an attempt to placate her. Understanding his meaning, and that he meant no offence to her, she leaned back in her seat and nodded.
"It's true. I was the one who fired the shot." Isard confirmed, her voice betraying no emotion. Certainly she lived up to her Iceheart name.
"Quite the initiation." he commented, and she shrugged.
"It was my idea. I don't like to… leave things to chance. You understand." she said. He nodded sagely. He understood all too well.
"Never leave an enemy at your back- or trust another to dispose of them." he said and she nodded.
"We understand each other well it seems." she commented.
"And hopefully we shall understand each other more yet by the end of this evening." he replied, allowing a small amount of playfulness to slide into his tone, though he kept his expression perfectly masked and his voice lowered so it would seem to anyone nearby they discussed work or politics perhaps. Nothing that would hint at the true nature of their conversation.
"Indeed." she replied, keeping her face stoic, but a playfulness showed in her eyes. "And now I have a question for you."
"Oh?" he inquired.
"What is it in Daala that attracts you so you would risk scandal and stability for her when you have a wife already?" she asked.
"A tad personal isn't that?" Tarkin asked in response.
"Asking me if I fired the execution shot at my father isn't?" she challenged back "And in any case I thought I understood the intent of tonight was to get very personal." she remarked casually, though her expression was anything but. Forcing herself to calm and sit back in her seat, she waited. Tarkin gave a sigh. She was right of course, it was only fair.
"Touche." he said. "Very well. I have never loved my wife. It was a political marriage. Nothing more. In Daala I found a sharp mind, much like my own, a sense of wit, and she is beautiful, though she does not see it in herself.. so she is quite modest and not vain." Tarkin explained. Propping her chin on folded hands she regarded him as she considered this.
"Then let me ask you this… if you love her as you say you do… why are you here with me tonight?" Isard asked.
"Much the same reason you are here yourself."
"Touche." Isard said "Though I very much doubt it's exactly the same reason unless your little protege has found someone younger to spend all her time with while ignoring you." Recalling one of the projects the Emperor had mentioned Tarkin put the pieces together. Of course. The young Emperor's Hand he'd been introduced to. Isard mistook the time she spent training with the Emperor for… he coughed to cover his laugh and she glared at him. "I fail to see what is so funny about that."
"I think you misunderstand his interests. You refer to Jade do you not?" Tarkin asked.
"You know something about her?" Isard asked, suddenly alert.
"Nothing I can share with you I'm afraid, but I can confirm their relationship is not what you think." he responded. He could see her mulling over how she might gain more information, and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction quickly. "In any case, you are correct that is not the cause of my fight with Daala. Perhaps though we should move this conversation to somewhere more private." Tarkin commented, casting her a meaningful glance. Her expression became playful for a moment as she leaned in just a fraction more than was proper after casting a quick glance around to ensure no eyes were on them.
"Shall we head back to my place then?" she purred in a low voice, flashing a feral grin before shifting back in her seat to look casual. Tarkin gave a cough to cover his surprise at her sudden boldness and nodded.
"I suppose that answers the question of your place or mine." he said amused.
"Recalling you do not keep permanent residence on Coruscant… I rather think our appearance together on your Star Destroyer might cause something of a scandal." Isard pointed out.
"Valid point. I do keep a small apartment, but I'm sure yours is far more comfortable." Tarkin agreed, signalling to the waiter droid for the bill.
Reaching Isard's apartment it stuck Tarkin he saw no holder anywhere on her outfit for a key card. She gave him a bemused smirk, clearly anticipating his confusion. Once she was sure his attention was focused on her, she slipped a hand in the top of her dress and withdrew a keycard from between her breasts. "You certainly are full of surprises Madam Director." he commented.
"I try be. People are far more interesting when they don't know what to expect." she said as she slide the keycard into the door release and stepped into the room. Motioning him to sit on the couch she gathered up some glasses and a bottle before coming to sit beside him. Picking up the bottle he read the label.
"Ambrostine?" he asked "I assume you are aware of the ah, effects of this drink?" Isard nodded.
"Of course. It's why I selected it. A little… liquid encouragement if you will to make this easier." she said.
"Just wanted to be sure you won't regret any actions under the influence of it." Tarkin said, taking the glasses and pouring them each a generous amount. The strange situation certainly merited it and he appreciated her foresight into the matter.
"I appreciate your concern, but it's quite unnecessary Wilhuff." she assured him, taking a sip from one of the glasses. "Though I must admit it's nice to spend an evening in the company of such a gentleman." she commented.
"His Majesty isn't?" Tarkin asked intrigued as he sipped the alcohol. Isard smirked.
"He can be if he wishes… but not typically in private with me. We passed that stage long ago. With precious little time together, well… you catch my drift." she said.
"Ah yes, I know that feeling well." Tarkin replied as he took another sip "Still, I believe it is one's duty to keep their lady happy." he said. Isard gave a laugh at that.
"Or ladies?" she quipped. "I suppose you would know all about that."
"And his Majesty doesn't?" Tarkin quipped back. Isard glared at him for a moment at the reminder she was not the Emperor's only lover, but shrugged it off quickly.
"Touche." she said, taking a large sip of the ambrostine to settle herself. They sat drinking in silence for a while after that, Isard leaning into or listing towards him Tarkin wasn't quite sure. As the alcohol took effect they began to relax. "So…" Isard drawled, breaking the silence.
"So?" Tarkin queried.
"Top or bottom?" she asked with a wicked grin. Tarkin cleared his throat.
"I'll leave that to my lady's discretion." he said and she smirked.
"Wise choice." she said, shifting herself so she straddled his lap. "Though I must admit I'm curious which of you wears the pants, you or Daala." she commented as she kissed him. Tarkin gave a laugh as he met the kiss.
"You've met her on at least one occasion I believe. Who do you think?" he asked her amused. He felt her laugh against his lips as he ran his hands down her back.
"Daala." she answered, as she drew back slightly, a bemused expression on her face. He gave her a look of mock hurt before laughing himself.
"What about you?" Tarkin asked as she fumbled with the clasps which held his uniform in place.
"What about me?" she asked.
"Who wears the pants?" Tarkin asked, giving a slight giggle. The ambrostine was clearly taking full effect he realized vaguely in the back of his mind. Isard gave a snort at the question as she finally succeeded in undoing the fasteners of his tunic.
"His Majesty of course… figuratively speaking that is… since I actually wear pants… and he just wears robes… what were we talking about again?" she asked losing focus as the full effect of the ambrostine hit her.
"Something about pants?" Tarkin offered helpfully.
"Why are you still wearing them anyways?" she asked tilting her head at him. He shrugged this tunic off the rest of the way and slid Isard from his lap so he could stand. Upon standing he promptly dropped his pants without ceremony. He then began fumbling with her dress, struggling to find the clasps in his intoxicated state, causing Isard to giggle. That was certainly a sound he had never quite imagined coming from the Director, but he found it quite infectious and laughed along with her. With some assistance from her they finally managed between them to extract her from the dress she wore. Clad only in their undergarments, Isard pressed herself against him, kissing him hard. Unfortunatley this upset Tarkin's equilibrium, and the pair went crashing to the floor. Inhibitions wiped out by the ambrostine, passion took over. Eventually they made their way to the bed after a series of dalliances along the way.
Isard awoke to a pounding headache. The generous amounts of ambrostine had certainly helped ease any tension or hesitation which might have occurred, though as the sunlight streamed in through the transparisteel window she regretted indulging quite so much. Groaning she moved to pull a pillow over her head and was startled for a moment to find an arm draped over her. Mentally she reprimand herself for her stupidity. Of course Tarkin was still here. They'd scarcely been able to walk by the end of the night. He had been in no shape to get home. It was an odd thing waking to find someone in her bed. She always went to Palpatine. He never came to her. How many years had it been she had been utterly faithful to him, never taking another man to her bed? She shook her head to clear it, waking Tarkin in the process.
"Good morning." he said still somewhat sleepily as he reached out to brush her cheek. Isard flinched back, uncomfortable with such a tender gesture. Tarkin frowned at that as he recalled some of their conversation last night. Still it was not his place to judge her or her relationship. Understanding her discomfort with closeness, he shifted away from her and considered what his next move should be. He vaguely recalled their clothes had been discarded throughout the living room section of her apartments. He lay on his back in the bed while he considered his options. Isard's voice broke his thoughts, apparently having reached the same conclusion.
"Go on." she said "Nothing I haven't seen at this point." she reasoned, and Tarkin felt a small blush creep across his cheeks. However bold and direct Daala could be, she had nothing on the Director he decided. Sliding from the bed he located his clothes and dressed quickly. Hoping Isard would not mind his continued presence for a little longer, he started some caf brewing. Still groggy she made her way out clad in a very short shimmersilk robe and leaning against the wall.
"I hope you don't mind, I started some caf to help with our hangovers." Tarkin explained. Isard merely nodded and made her way over to the nerf leather couch.
"It's fine." she sighed. "I'm afraid I seldom entertain guests." she said and he nodded, bringing her a cup as he sat next to her.
"I suppose not." he agreed. They sipped their caf in silence for a few minutes before Isard spoke.
"I can assume you won't tell your wife about this little tryst, but will you tell Daala?" she asked. Tarkin shook his head.
"No, I have no intent to tell her. If she asks I won't lie, but I doubt it will be an issues." he said. "And you?" he asked "Will his Majesty know?" Tarkin asked and Isard shrugged.
"I don't see how he can not know. Surely if you are trusted enough by him to know of projects he does not even entrust me with, you must know of his powers." she reasoned. "I don't know if he will confront me over it or ignore it, but there are no secrets between us." Isard said. Tarkin shifted uncomfortably, not quite sure how he felt about the Emperor being aware of this tryst with the Director who for all intents and purposes belonged to His Majesty. Still, what was done was done. He could only hope he suffered no consequences from his rash decision to accept the Director's proposition.
"I see." Tarkin said. Glancing at his chrono he said "I apologize for my abrupt departure, but-" Isard waved a dismissive hand at him.
"It's fine. I'm not one to spend hours being social. I wanted to unwind was all. You've accomplished that." she said, her tone cool. He flinched slightly at her cold dismissal, but reminded himself she was Iceheart after all. Without a further glance back at her, he stepped out the door, leaving her to her own devices as he made his way to the meeting he'd been summoned to Coruscant for. It had been an interesting trip, but he would be glad to return to his fleet and Daala. In the apartment, still sipping her caf, Isard wondered just what the Emperor's reaction would be to her unfaithfulness. Fair was fair after all, even if he never seemed to quite play by the rules