Darth Vowrawn X Fem Sith Warrior
She had underestimated her opponent, unable to realize the real threat he possessed. Gazing blankly at the dead body, she could see that. The scent of blood was strong, stronger than it should have been.
A few droplets of blood rained down on the Weequay's lifeless corpse, staining the durasteel a ghastly shade of crimson. It wasn't clear where the blood came from. But after a moment; the adrenaline making its way out of her system, Andraria knew.
Looking down she saw her armor shredded to pieces. Bits of metal and debris stuck out from her exposed skin, blood oozing from the various wounds adorning her stomach, and she knew.
Touching the vital liquid, soaking her thick studded glove in the process, she knew this was her blood flowing out, wild and free.
Everything seemed to go by so slowly.
At first, Andraria tried to move her legs but nothing happened. Slowly shapes and sounds began blurring together, shading the edges in black where ever her dark blue eyes looked. The tips of her fingers went numb first, and then the rest of her followed. Unable to stand up any longer, she collapsed, falling on her knees in front of her attacker, his eyes still glazed over from the sweet embrace of death.
Vette knelt in front of her; the Twi'lek's face blue as the sky, seemed blurry and dull. It was as if she was dead. Vette moved her lips, but no sound came out of them. It was as if she was mute.
Fear spread across the young woman's face, the sight of blood instilling said fear in her, and her head snapped to the left, lekkus spinning around her head. Her blue lips kept moving but Andraria couldn't hear what she said. Vette's hands moved frequently, frantically even, as the alien tried doing –something-. Andraria wasn't sure what it was she was trying to do.
A few seconds later another familiar face appeared, Darth Vowrawn. His dusky red skin seemed washed out, faded in color. The golden jewelry adorning his tentacles, hanging down from his chin, seemed dull, like their shine had been completely snuffed out.
Just like Vette, his lips moved but not a sound could be heard. Andraria tried moving her lips, trying to say something to him. But just like her legs, they wouldn't move.
A second passed. Vowrawn's face seemed to change before her hazy vision. Was it fear? Concern? Or perhaps both? Andraria couldn't tell. The only thing she was sure of was how cold she felt. Her skin felt she was lying in the snow back on Hoth again.
Darth Vowrawn stood up quickly, moving out of her line of sight. Without any sounds Andraria couldn't be sure where he went.
The next few seconds were a complete blur. One minute she was sitting on her knees and the next minute someone had their arm over her shoulder, helping her to her feet, and guiding her down the blackened hall.
Blood flowed from the wounds, splattering all over her twisted metal armor, and all over the floor. For every wobbly step, there were at least a few if not more, drops of blood marking her journey on the floor.
Whoever was helping her, guiding her body down the halls, was indeed determined. Every time exhaustion seemed to overpower her, it was drawn back, if only for a few minutes. The person to her left, out of her range of sight, was keeping her conscious. Keeping her alive.
The internal fight went back and forth. Andraria would start to feel dizzy, light headed, and sleepy for a short time and then all of sudden those emotions those –feelings- ebbed away very slowly, only to come back again in greater force. It was began a cycle, a vicious cycle. But she didn't lose consciousness, at least, not right away.
At some point, whatever power that kept her mind from blanking out, from shutting down completely lost its affect on her.
In only a few short moments, Darth Andraria Anyale, saw the world around her blacken before her very eyes just before she lost all consciousness.
In what felt like a short amount of time, snippets and fragmented sentences echoed in her skull, slowly growing in volume all around her. Listening, relishing in the sounds, Andraria stayed where she was, painfully aware of the throbbing, aching pain located in her abdomen.
"Darth Andraria's condition is stabilizing, my lord." An electronic, emotionless, voice said. A droid.
"Makes sure she stays that way." A male's voice responded; sounding calm if a bit, sharp.
They went completely silent.
The pain seemed to ebb away, agonizingly slowly sure, but it did eventually lessen. Gauging the pain, Andraria attempted to rise, blue eyes opening to a beige colored room filled to the brim with medical supplies, bloody instruments, beds, and bits of other things.
A swift unexpected stab of pain caught the lord off guard, causing the young woman to bite her lower lip, suppressing the urge to scream or gasp out in pain.
The sound of the bed creaking brought the attention of both the droid and the unknown male lingering inside what seemed to be a medical bay.
"I would advise you, my lord, to lie back down." It was droid who responded first, walking over to her bedside, holding a syringe filled with a foul smelling liquid.
"Silence." She hissed, clenching her teeth in utter pain.
The droid stopped in its tracks, the syringe leaking a small amount of liquid onto the very edge of the stark white bed.
"It would be unwise to ignore the droid's advice. That is, unless you wish to bleed all over the bed." Fully lucid and coherent, Andraria could hear the very prominent accent emanating from the man's words.
Darth Vowrawn.
Shaking lightly in pain, feasting off it, Andraria lifted her head up to catch two very bright red eyes watching her with concern.
She brushed off his advice, knowing the pain would subside, and all she required was time.
Dark blue eyes shifted to the left, eyeing the medical droid lingering by her bedside. "Leave us." She ordered, ignoring the hunk of junk's insistent prattle.
Internally wincing in pain, Andraria waved a bandaged hand up in the air, silencing the droid completely. "Do as I say. Don't argue with me."
This time the droid complied without saying a word, shuffling past Darth Vowrawn, and out the door.
The Dark Council member's face turned into a frown. "You're playing with fire, Andraria." He warned, standing straight as a board. The younger lord shifted in bed, straightening out her back with great effort on her part.
"I'll be fine. I've dealt with worse."
The pureblood paused. "You'll be the death of me. You know that?"
Andraria smirked, hiding the pain lining her pale, sweat covered face. "I'm well aware I will be, Vowrawn." She mused, chuckling weakly at his distraught appearance.
Watching him now, Andraria was sure he was the one carrying her back to this… place. Vette was too weak to help guide someone like her, wearing all kinds of heavy armor and weapons, down maker knows how many hallways. Darth Vowrawn was the only one she saw besides Vette, when the attack broke out.
"You were reckless." Darth Vowrawn cut in sharply, using his hand to seemingly slice the air to emphasize his anger.
Andraria knew he would scold her, prod at her while she was still baring the pain in her stomach. He was worried about her, that much could be said. He almost never came out and said it, but the tone of his voice, the anger and concern flashing in those red eyes spoke volumes of his unspoken words.
Andraria nodded at him, acknowledging that indeed she had been careless. Jumping out in front of him, blocking the blast from reaching him –was- reckless and careless. It could have been an acid grenade or a vile toxin grenade. If it had been, neither of them would have made it out of that attack alive.
"I know." Was all she could say without letting loose a gasp of pain.
Vowrawn seemed to ease up on her, sensing the growing pain that stemmed from her abdomen, and ventured over to her side taking a hold of one of her hands. The warmth from his hand shocked her, startling into snapping her head up to see his face. Upon his dull dusky red skin was a smirk, a genuine smirk.
"I pray you don't try tempting fate, anytime soon." Vowrawn pressed his lips up against her hand, only to chuckle at Andraria's flushed face.
Feeling embarrassed, Andraria turned her head the other way, escaping his bright red eyes. "Insufferable man," Andraria cursed. Vowrawn let loose a small chuckle at her comment.
"And you're a very difficult woman. But I manage." He joked, inducing a laugh from the younger Sith Lord.
Turning back around to face Vowrawn, Andraria couldn't help but smile at him. "You do realize that once I'm fully healed, we do need to spend some time together. Before the emperor decides to send light years away from you, that is."
Vowrawn started laughing, his hand still grasping Andraria's. Before replying, Vowrawn kissed her hand again, watching her cheeks go from a pale pink to a deep red color.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear."