A/N: No death, I promise.


The scratch of utensils against the clean porcelain plates did not reach her ears, the food scarcely ever found her slightly open mouth, and the scenery of Coruscant was a distant memory to her vision. Mara stared distantly into space, neither thinking nor seeing; instead, blankly staring at her filled glass without any actual consciousness.

The sound of his voice brought her from her trance by the ruby wine glass. "Are you alright?"

Thoughtful, Mara continued to look at the thing with more concentration. "Yes, Master."

Ever-the-observer, he did not seem satisfied. "Are you sure? You have been enamored with that glass for the past half hour and haven't eaten a thing."

Still without much reaction, she lied, "I didn't notice. I am sorry."

Mara finally picked up the wine glass and took a demure sip from it. Next, she drew the dainty silver fork from its clean white napkin and ate at a slow and automatic pace, something her Etiquette tutor had always emphasized.

When she was about half-finished, he spoke again. "You also haven't even spared me a quick glance."

Before she could answer, he cut in: "Obviously, something is troubling you. Something you are not telling me."

Honestly, she was exhausted. Mentally exhausted. "I'm tired, I suppose." She still did not look at the man seated across the table.

"Then you should rest. Your duties for tomorrow can be canceled and you must take a day off to recuperate."

Mara felt her throat run dry, and took another sip of the wine - it tasted bitter. She rested her pale hand on the cold black surface, finally looking into his face when he gently caressed her hand.

She turned away quickly. Though he was handsome as always, his features had been marred ragged by hatred, anger, and unbinding darkness. Instead of the eternal smile he used to carry, his mouth was set in a stoic expression except for rare occasions when he derived joy from some merciless act.

The change that pained Mara most of all was the look in his eyes: years of utter torture had slowly turned them from glimmering cerulean to a convoluted orange-yellow that made her wince whenever she came in contact with them.

He was so different from the day they had met, all of his innocence and reckless optimism gone. A Dark Master had morphed him into his tool, but the tool became powerful enough to overthrow the Master and take his place as despotic ruler - which was exactly what happened.

Even still, she had hoped that he might love her, as she did him.

Luke Skywalker had loved her. Deeply and eternally.

But Luke, the real Luke Skywalker had long gone, only leaving the shell of what was once human, and taking Mara's hope with him.

Despite that, she couldn't stop loving him.