Peace Is A Lie
Cameron Eden
She wasn't supposed to be training. She wasn't supposed to be in the meditation chamber. She didn't have permission.
It was how he kept control, ensured that his apprentices never surpassed him. Then again, unlike the usual Sith traditions, he never killed his. He just pit them against his rivals, who happened to do the job for him. Not that he couldn't kill them, she had seen his power.
She almost feared him. Almost.
Being his apprentice and keeping on his good side made her feel safe, secure.
She let out a small sigh. The sight of him wouldn't leave her mind, wouldn't keep from distracting her. Last she saw him, he was showing off to a Jedi knight that threatened the Empire's hold on Balmorra. The sheer power of his lightning made him hover above the ground.
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she did so.
General Hesker didn't help her fixation. "I didn't think any of us would make it out alive when the ship was set to self destruct," he'd told her. "Darth Thanaton practically broke our ship's console and threatened to kill us all if you didn't make it off alive."
It was a sentiment she never expected. When he sent her to kill the false Emperor—Darth Baras—she expected it to be a test. Kill or die. Anything less would be a failure and subject to a death penalty. Before the fight, Darth Baras set his own ship to self destruct. A coward's move, a way to ensure his victory no matter what the outcome.
By the time she ran her lightsaber through the man, she had just under two minutes to get back to her shuttle and return to the fleet. Bloodied and wounded, she barely made it back to the shuttle. The small ship took heavy damage when the false Emperor's flagship exploded. The impact just enough to knock her out.
When she came to, Hesker and Moff Regus stood over her bed, but Thanaton didn't show. Even when Moff Regus relayed his order, for her to return to Dromund Kaas when she was well enough to travel, there was no sign of her master anywhere. Days later, she headed to the capital of the Empire, and still no word.
It made her wonder. Perhaps Hesker's words were a lie, a pitiful sentiment to help ease any worries she had. A very non-Sith response, in her opinion.
She straightened, her eyes opening as a familiar presence entered the room. "I don't recall giving you permission to enter my meditation chamber," Darth Thanaton greeted. She got to her feet, turning in her place to face the man.
"Forgive me, my lord," she responded with a small bow at her waist. "I couldn't find you and it's been some time since I was in solitude." He held up a hand to silence her, walking closer. She watched him. He stopped several feet in front of her. His yellow eyes, their color tainted by corruption from the dark side, scanning over her.
"You know I hate excuses," he stated.
"Of course, my lord," she answered.
"You also know I can see through your lies," he added. She fell silent. There had been many occasions she had given him false information, not so much to be deceitful, however. Something else was always at play between them, almost a game. "I have never understood why you try to hide your thoughts from me."
Though the Sith had no skill in reading minds, at least not so casually and without use of the force, they had the means to read an opponents emotions—fear, sorrow, pain. Many of them learned to manipulate the energy around them, to hide away their true intentions, but she had never bothered.
She kept her gaze on his, not daring to show the submission he was looking for this time. "Then I'll be honest," she responded. "Was I meant to die on that ship?" He paused. His yellow eyes narrowed. A brow arched. His weight shifted to both feet, his hands moving to clasp behind his back.
"If I wanted you dead, it would be so," he answered. "There have been many before you to stand testament to that."
"And yet…" she started.
"And yet here you are," he interrupted. "You might as well get to your point, Talia." She looked away, staring off into the expanse of the room. The meditation rooms were always grand, but his felt almost like home. For the most part, the room was open, with the platform in the middle supported only be six long spires along the edge that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, ending in spikes at either end. The atmosphere itself felt different just walking across the walkway from the main room to this one.
Thanaton moved, walking around to stand in her way again. Their gazes caught. She resisted the urge to look away again. To come out and ask about his outburst on Moff Regus's ship felt foolish, but it was the only question that weighed in her mind. Or rather, it was the more important. Everything else stemmed from that.
"And here I thought I had a capable apprentice, someone worth more than just random killings and unburying artifacts," he taunted. She straightened. Her eyes narrowed. He was pushing for something. Everything was always a lesson. She struggled to clear her mind, to feel the waves of the force around her.
"There was an incident," she started before pausing. She would have to go about her question in a careful manner, think it out thoroughly. Though he accused his rivals of being snakes, she knew who the truest one was.
"Go on," he responded.
"After Darth Baras set the ship to self destruct." He shifted his weight to his right leg. She tilted her head. "General Hesker said it was in that moment you threatened them. Why?"
"Asking questions is not the only way to get the answers you seek," Thanaton answered. A smirk played on his lips. "I'm starting to wonder if you've listened to anything I've told you." She went to say something, a single vowel sound coming from her mouth, before she stopped. Taking a deep breath, she refrained from the annoyance that began to tug at her mind.
He always had control. It had been the reason she felt honored when he first came to her about being her apprentice. Though her original master died in mysterious circumstances, the blame fell to her. It was tradition for Siths to kill their masters, but she hadn't laid a hand on hers. She had been the lucky heir of the title Sith Lord when one of her master's rivals killed her.
Her path then crossed with Thanaton, only recently apprentice-less himself. After sending her on some errands for the Empire, he took her in. She was rough, barely out of training on Korriban and hardly capable of owning the title of Sith Lord. Without his guidance, she would have been killed long ago. She owed him more than she was willing to admit aloud.
And he always seemed to know it.
"It's not like you, to lose your temper, master," she stated.
"Of course not. I'm old and wise in the ways of the Sith. Even if peace is a lie, we must always be in control of our own emotions," he responded.
"We've lost artifacts before, at the hands of the Republic. So it wasn't something historical on the ship that upset you. And you won't care about the technology of it." Tradition, principle, and history. That was what he always talked about. It was what kept the Empire going, the Sith moving forward. Technology didn't have much of a factor in that.
"There's a much easier way to get the answers you want," he stated. She studied him. Always standing tall, always in his armor of red, black, and silver. He could easily be mistaken for a pacifist, if someone didn't know who he really was. "I might have to give up if you don't get it soon," he chided.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. If she could get Hesker's words out of her mind, if she could forget that he acted so unusual, she could clear her head and focus on what she needed to. It was a test, even if there were circumstances that Thanaton didn't intend.
Trying not to express the building frustrations, she walked to the center of the platform and closed her eyes for a brief moment. No Sith code was going to get her out of this one. No lightsaber either or show of force. Her cunning would never be up to par with his either. There was something he was pushing for, something she was missing. It had to be obvious.
She felt him move closer. And then she caught it; the feeling of something else. It felt like a raw passion, a strong desire. It made her mind race, her heart beat faster. Her stomach twisted into a feeling she'd never felt before.
Her eyes opened and she turned, staring when Thanaton was right behind her. He stood over her, his expression as calm and serious as ever. She took a step back before she could stop herself. "Finally figured it out?" he asked. Before she had a chance to respond, a strong force like a gust of wind pushed her back. Her feet left the ground. Her back slammed into one of the solid spires. The air from her lungs pushed out with the force of the hit.
"Fear manifests itself in different ways," he stated. He watched her from the center of the platform. She tried to move, but felt her muscles frozen in place, held by the invisible force he commanded. "To some, they break down, lose their capability to take action. They become weak." He started walking closer. "Others become angry, willing to find a way to take control of their situation."
He stopped in front of her, pushing a lock of her dark auburn hair behind her ear with his gloved fingers. "It was the first time in years I had felt my own fear," he stated. "Of course, I didn't expect for our General Hesker to tell you anything." He stepped closer still, their bodies nearly brushing each other. "And you, always so ignorant." He slid the glove from his hand. His bare fingers brushed against her cheek. "Your feelings always so clear. You've been waiting a long time, haven't you?"
She wasn't sure if she couldn't find her voice or if there was more at play than what was just holding her against the pillar behind her. Trying to keep her composure, she struggled to slow her heart, to keep from breathing too heavily. He chuckled some and she wondered if he could sense her thoughts. She stared at him as he leaned closer, his lips almost against hers. "It's almost a shame to finally give it to you," he whispered.
His lips crashed down onto hers. Hard. Hungry. The action sparked something within her; her own passion, her own desire. She wanted to move closer, to grab onto his robes to keep him from moving away, but she found her muscles still frozen as he took what he wanted from her lips. His tongue forced its way between her lips and she found her mouth opening for him. He held the kiss for only a few more seconds, his tongue barely brushing over hers before he broke away, a growl emanating from his throat. She stared at him, her breathing heavy. Her lips trembled as her mind struggled to find words.
She had only seen such intensity in his eyes twice. The first time was when he faced a member of the Jedi council, just after the time he taunted the other Jedi. The second was when a member of the dark council questioned his knowledge on the history of the Siths on Voss. Having the look directed at her, after such an expression of emotion, ran a shiver down her spine.
Her breath caught, a brief hitch in her breathing when his body brushed against hers. A probably accidental brush, she figured. He was always in control. But that brief second felt like a break in his restraint. And she was completely helpless. All of the schemes that came up in her mind, the longing to touch him, to throw herself at him and make him give in those feelings again, were worthless. With his manipulation of the force keeping her in place, she was victim of his will.
She silently willed him to do more. It wasn't a game anymore. It wasn't a match of wits where they tried to figure each other out, where they tried to assert their position and strength to the other in hopes of figuring them out. Even if he had her figured out long before, he never acted on it. But it was all there now, all out. The years of waiting seemed nothing now, in comparison to the passing seconds where she simply watched him, waited.
And then he was even closer. One of his legs was between hers. His hips, his chest. They were both against hers. "You are mine." His words were a half whisper and a half growl. They were raw, animalistic. They reflected the break of his will.
She felt his hands on her hips. The stiffness in her muscles relaxed. Her body moved into his more. His lips were on hers again, pressing hard against her mouth. She returned the sentiment, eager and hungry after the agonizing wait. Her hands moved to his chest. She cursed the fabric her fingers met, the fabric between them. His tongue once again slid into her mouth. This time, she greeted it with her own, her hands making their way down to the belt at his waist.
She fumbled with the large clasp, reveling in the feeling of his lips as they moved to her neck. Nipping, sucking at the tender skin. He removed the glove from his other hand and slipped his fingers up her shirt. She didn't bother to put on her robes and armor. Though always forced to be on guard, she felt the clothing excessive without an assignment, at least since she still had tender spots that were healing.
His belt unclicked and dropped to the floor with a clatter of metal that echoed around the open room. It allowed his robes to open, revealing the final layer of clothes underneath; his real armor. She paused, feeling his hands cup her breasts. The feeling of electric energy ran down her spine. She gasped, her breaths coming in ragged inhales and exhales. One of her legs wrapped around his, the feeling of desire mounting between her legs. She rolled her hips against his. He purred against her ear, his warm breath washing down her neck. Her mind recalled his lectures of patience and self-control. Channel the anger, the pain, the passion, and use it, but never lost control. That is the way of the Sith.
But patience be damned.
She wanted this. She wanted him.
She rolled her hips against his again and he let out a low growl. He pinched one of her hardened nipples, sending another shock through her body. His hands were moving down her skin again. One slipped under the fabric on her lower body, his fingers coming to play between her legs. A groan escaped from her lips. She leaned into him more. He slid a finger into her.
"Thanaton," she gasped. It was the first time she'd ever said his name without his title, and the first time she'd ever spoken it to him. He was always 'master' or 'my lord' or 'sir'. He purred against her ear again, nibbling at the lobe. His free hand snaked its way to her thigh and lifted her leg, prompting her to wrap it around his waist. He moved his finger rhythmically inside her.
He slipped another finger into her. She found her body frozen, unable to respond from the pleasure. It was a new experience, the first time she'd allowed herself to get so caught up with a person. Finding her senses in her mind, she got her body to work. She put her lips to his again, kissing with an open mouth a new hunger.
Her hands moved to his pants. She pushed them down. Her hand ran along the his length. He groaned into her mouth, his fingers pushing harder into her. The waves of feelings that ran through her nerves, crashing through her body, erased her thoughts, leaving only impulse. Even that was stolen away when he moved her hand from his member and moved his own hand from her. He pushed her pants down and slid into her, filling her.
Her hips arched to meet him. The control he always preached about disappeared as he thrust into her, their hips grinding against each other. She broke from the kiss, breathing hard as she pressed her forehead into the curve of his neck. Her mind raced with thoughts she couldn't keep up with, the feeling of that electrical energy surging through every inch of her body.
She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers digging into the cloth on his back. Even her mind knew the only things keeping her up at this point were him and the pillar he'd pushed her against. A loud groan escaped her, muffled only partially by Thanaton's shoulder as the pleasure her body was feeling began to grow, almost tipping over. Her fingers curled in more at the sound of his moan, a deep throated expression of her feelings being mirrored by his body.
The pleasure soon exploded. She arched into him one final time as the feelings numbed her mind, erasing the world around her with the final fragments of the pleasure, the passion shared between them. He gave one more thrust before emitting a long, guttural groan. She struggled to catch her breath, staring at the empty space in the room around them as he moved back.
He made sure she was stable on her feet, or at least stable enough to keep from falling to the floor, before straightening his clothes again. She watched him close up his robes, picking up the belt from the floor and securing it around his waste again. He was never to be seen weakened, disheveled, unwell. It was part of his act, part of the man she'd come to know.
She took a deep breath, trying to force her mind from the stupor it was in, and went to correcting herself as well. Her attention snapped back to the man in front of her as his fingers brushed the underside of her chin. Their gaze met. She stared into his amber eyes. "Peace is a lie," he purred.
"There is only passion," she whispered.