(Author's Note: I dug up a few of these that got cut from something else or written to mess with an idea (or, in the case of #1, because I got irked with a spate of "Revan and Malak as lovers" fic a while back). They all follow this loose post-TSL continuity in my head, in which Revan is hunting Sith in the Unknown Regions, the Exile goes in search of her, and Atton, after a brief period of trying to stay and train like a good little novice Jedi, fails his impulse-control check and takes off after the Exile.)


Fallen

Revan knows she has fallen when she seduces Malak. When she lets her eyes burn golden and her nails trace the smoky tendrils that have begun to creep across his face and neck. When she takes the last of her friend's love - bone-deep, heart-deep, forged over years of companionship - and watches it wither into lust. When she reaches into his mind and wrenches all his thoughts toward anger and desire.

She knows she has fallen.

She thinks she has no further to fall.

She is wrong.