He was coming for her and he would wage a war to do it.
He was drawn to her like a moth is to a flame.
Ever since their battle on Starkiller he had been coming to her. Seeking her out at her most vulnerable. When she was alone, when she was lost deep in her mind, when the presence of so many people was overwhelming for her. Stalking her like predator does prey.
He didn't come for a fight. He never does. But he will fight till the end. Because she would be livid. Immediately be on the defensive at the little tremor that ran down her spine whenever he was getting close. Or the sight of him, on the rare occasion he caught her off guard. Provoking that little glimmer of darkness in her that called to him like a lighthouse beacon called to sailors to shore. She'd let him get the better of her. And she would attack.
He was coming for her.
He had the battle scars but she hadn't had enough battles. She needed more rounds in the ring and he needed to settle more scores. He was a shark and her blood was all through the water.
She was irresistible to him.
She had cut him to the bone but he would cut her until there was nothing left to leave behind.
He wanted to keep her like a secret.
And then turn her into his own little weapon.
He was getting close. He could feel her. Smell her.
He inhaled her presence like smoke. Felt her all around him like being submerged. He wanted to drown himself in her.
He approached her and stopped. Sensing him she whirled around.
His mood reflecting his reflection in her.
She scowled and lunged, raising her staff.
So Luke still hadn't had her make a lightsaber. He figured as much and drew his training sword he brought along in preparation to counter her strike.
"You know, if I was your teacher, you would probably already have made a lightsaber. Perhaps a saberstaff, if you preferred." He commented offhandly.
She only furrowed her brow deeper and increased her efforts to strike him.
He smirked. "Let me guess, he is still having you meditate and practice control. Emphasizing the importance of the light side and abandoning all the wonderful things that make you human" he taunted her.
She ignored this too, concentrating her efforts still on defeating him.
As he effortlessly parried each of her anticipated blows, he added, "It's because they're afraid of you, you know. They can see the darkness in you, patiently waiting to be set free."
This unnerved her.
"I will never go to the dark side. You will never be my teacher. I will never be like YOU" she screamed as she rushed towards him and put all her anger behind the onslaught she intended to bring. A large crack resounded as his training sword splintered in two. A satisfied grin on his face.
She dropped her staff to her side and took a step back. Trying to calm the storm of emotions he once again stirred inside her.
He closed the gap between them in one stride and brought his gloved hand to her cheek. "You have so much potential, you could be so great and have everything you've ever wanted and more and yet you let them suppress your strength."
She didn't respond, just stared placatingly into his dark eyes. He leaned down and let his lips tentatively brush hers. And soon she was responding, dropping her staff altogether and wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his dark hair. His gloved hands affectionately moving down her torso to rest on her hips as he pulled her in closer and coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. His soft moan brought her back to reality and she jerked, breaking the kiss and punching him squarely in the jaw. He chuckled, "Oh, scavenger."
He brought his hand to his lip and pulled it away to examine the small stain of bright red. A flash of something primal in his dark eyes. He loved the way she hurt him. Loved her ferocity, her tenacity. He could only hope that she would come to feel the same. And by the look of her eyes darkened with lust, her blood singing out to him, the chaos in her mind, she did too.