"Hurry, get her set down-" Mical was frantically grabbing bandages and gel when Atton rushed in to find the source of the clamor that had filled the ship. Bao Dur and Mandalore were placing a limp Avery onto the medical bay bed as gently as possible. Kreia, for the first time he'd ever seen, looked afraid.
"What is this?" he half-shouted. "What's wrong with her?"
"Big, nasty Sith," Mandalore grunted in reply as he let her out of his arms. "Drained the Force from her somehow I guess, I don't know-"
"Indeed, she is drained." Kreia's eyes were closed, and she was frowning. "Quite badly. She doesn't have much energy left."
Bao Dur held a bandage to the Exile's shoulder as Mical prepared a gel. "Once he pulled the Force out of her, she barely resisted when his lightsaber went in."
"Why didn't you stop him?" Mira was standing in the doorway, looking as terrified as everyone else in the room. Not one of them could lose Avery.
"Statement: The Sith was able to use his considerable powers to utterly paralyze us. Apparently, my Master was able to resist this, and fought back. We were unable to provide assistance at the time."
"R-right, but how is she…alive right now? Why didn't he just kill her at that point?"
Bao Dur tossed his bandage and frowned at the floor as Mical sent a strong Heal to the sizzling hole in the Exile's shoulder. "It was strange," he murmured. Imperceptibly, every person in the room leaned a little closer to hear. "When he drained her, he walked up with his saber and looked down at her. I've rarely seen such struggle on any man's face before. It was as if he was willing himself to kill her, but as he moved for her heart he let out a sort of strangled noise and ran through her shoulder instead. It's almost as if he couldn't make himself do it."
"That doesn't make sense," Mira said instantly.
"He's right though," Mandalore said. "I watched too. The Sith ran through her shoulder and then just took off. He didn't even care that he'd set all of us free."
Visas looked down at the Exile, then back up at the Disciple. "Will she survive?"
He was taking Avery's pulse, and he shook his head. "Her injury should heal, I hope, but her lack of energy is severe. I cannot fix that. I don't know if she'll survive it."
"She survived without the Force once," Visas almost whispered. "Can't she do it again?"
Atton, his eyes wide and dark in his face, walked up to the other side of Avery's bed and lightly ran his thumb down her cheek, his hand down her arm, to tangle her fingers in his. She was cold, motionless, her breath far too slow.
Like a breeze had entered the med bay, Atton felt a curious wave of energy rolling in the air. He looked past the group gathered at the foot of the bed to see Kreia, still as a statue, with her hand outstretched toward him. For just a second, he felt Kreia's Force drawn into him, a bitter, warm surge that just as quickly drove through him, down his arm, to Avery.
Outraged, his mouth opened to shout at Kreia, but she spoke. "Hush. You must be a conduit for her. I cannot bring the energy to her directly: there is not enough in her to accept it. If you want her to live, you must allow this."
Atton stopped immediately, and Avery's fingers twitched. He looked down and watched as gradual color flushed her skin, her breathing picked up, and finally her eyes opened.
A chorus of yelps and sighs of relief flooded the room. Atton swiftly withdrew his hand and stepped back as the rest of the team rushed up to touch her, to express their gladness, to make sure she was okay. No one noticed Kreia, weak and unsteady, who staggered out of the room.
Avery suddenly woke in the pitch-black room clutching at her stomach. As her eyes settled on the vast expanse of stars outside the window, she felt the ragged hole again, the lack of Force. She wasn't bled dry, but the small amount she had was mixed with another type, acidic and coarse. She guessed it was the only thing keeping her alive.
So weak…I can't channel anything. Can't even think right…need to get my head on straight…
She swung her feet to the cold floor and hastily pulled on a short blue robe. She didn't even bother putting her hair up; hopefully she'd get her thoughts together and go back to bed soon.
As she wandered the dark halls of the Ebon Hawk, she ran her hand along the walls. She loved this ship, because she could almost sense Revan in it still, and she had so admired and loved Revan. Working under one of the most brilliant strategists in the galaxies had been an honor, and Avery took comfort in the remnants of her Master's presence.
Without consciously realizing it, she was slowly making her way toward the bridge where Atton was. He'd been with her when she was empty before, and helped her pull through. She wanted Atton, she thought sleepily. It was only natural.
Atton always woke at the tiniest sound, so Avery's padded footfalls were no exception. He sat up and saw her tentatively peeking in.
"Avery?"
"Oh, hey." She made her way in and stood by the door, smiling tiredly. "You're up."
"What are you doing out of bed?" he barked. "You could topple over right here in the room! Let's go."
He was up and pushing on the small of her back before she could muster up a protest. "Barely standin' up and you walk all the way over here? Crazy woman. You're going back to the bay, now."
He knew she was tired because he could feel her suppressing laughter as they walked back. She probably thought it was funny that he was practically carrying her as if she'd break any second.
He let out a puff of air through his cheeks. He was pathetic. If his old friends in Nar Shaddaa could see him now, the dangerous and independent Jaq on his knees wasting away for love of a Jedi girl, it would be beyond humiliating. At this point, though, no one knew. He may as well forget about his dignity for now.
Once they'd finally made it into the bay, Atton couldn't help but pull her into his arms, fully appreciating her soft figure against him. "Don't exert yourself too much. I worry enough about you as it is."
"I won't. I just wanted-"
She stopped short, her head bowed. Seeing another opportunity to touch her, he tilted her chin up to look at him with her dark eyes. "What did you want?"
She said nothing, only watched him in silence, and to his delight, he found the answer to her question. His eyes traveled over her face, from her long black lashes to her pink mouth, and the rational part of his mind shut down. He leaned in and brushed her lips with his.
As the realization of what he'd done dawned on him, he steeled himself for her anger when he opened his eyes. Instead, she pulled on his shirt ever so slightly.
He immediately bent his head and kissed her again, harder, pressing her mouth insistently into his. He could feel her pulse quickening against him, and she felt a little stronger as she kissed him back. He tried to tell himself she was fragile, that he had to be careful, but he'd dreamed of this with her so many times, had ached for her for so long, he couldn't treat her gently. His hands slid up her sides, pressing her back into him. When he finally pulled away a little, he whispered her name against her mouth.
Avery was breathing quickly, her cheeks pink, and she backed up. "I'm…I can't- I shouldn't have done that. I can't do that. A Jedi can't do that. We h-have to be at peace. Calm and controlled and that- that…" She was rambling, gesturing toward him aimlessly. She never rambled. "I can't do things like this and channel the Force. I must be too drained to be able to summon my control; I'm n-not thinking-"
Atton took a step toward her, but she continued, interrupting him. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault; it's mine. I should have been-"
Without a word, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her to him, crushing her mouth to his. Avery made a tiny sound in her throat before her mouth opened, and with a groan, Atton tangled his tongue with hers. She couldn't take it all back now. It was too late.
The kiss was rushed at first- feverish and rough, but it gradually slowed down. Avery began to breathe out each time his mouth left hers to move again, and the tension was built up so badly in his body he had to hold back from growling in his throat each time he heard her sigh. He wanted her so badly, and she felt like heaven: soft and warm and insistent, even better than all the countless times he'd imagined.
His hand traveled down to the belt on her robe and undid the tie. Resisting the urge to look down at her bare skin, he slipped a hand inside to spread a palm over her lower back. At the touch of his hand on her, she pulled away. He made a sound of protest as her mouth left his, and the vacancy of her body left him weak and needy.
"Avery, please-"
Her deep, steadying breath interrupted him, and he watched her force herself go from a weak-kneed girl to the Exile in front of him. She tilted her chin up, her damp hair falling down her back, and shook her head.
"The only reason," she said carefully, "that I did that was because I'm not myself. I can't think clearly. Feelings like this could compromise my ties with the Force, and I need it back."
Atton was watching, attempting to settle down, and his eyes mistakenly traveled the length of her slender neck to the exposed strip of skin her robe wasn't covering. The belt tie was hanging uselessly, and dark curls of her hair hung down to hint at the curves of her upper body. She turned and began to walk out of the room.
Since he met her, he'd struggled with two identities- Jaq, the rough and cold murderer he used to be, and Atton, a man attempting to the best of his abilities to be better. In that second, however, he felt the selfish and inflexible Jaq rise up.
He'd been trying so hard for so long. Perhaps there was a bit of willpower left in him, but he was fed up with being noble and suppressing it all. Resistance was easy when you actually wanted to resist.
"Avery." He said her name with such longing, so much worship in his voice that she turned around. He took a step toward her. "I can't do it. I've tried to be good. Really, I have. But I don't want to be anymore. If you want to stop me…" He hesitated, but there was no point in censoring it. "You'll have to kill me now."
"Stop you from what?" she asked quickly, her stance wary.
He approached her carefully, as if to keep a frightened animal from bolting. When he was close enough, he finally allowed himself to enjoy it. He leaned down and slid his mouth over the satin skin of her throat. She smelled so good, and it was unacceptable, impossible now, to stop.
"Atton, are you insane?" she hissed through her teeth. "I don't want to have to kill you-"
"You're gonna have to," he groaned against her skin. His mouth slid across her jaw. "If I gave in before, there is absolutely no willpower to quit now that I'm here."
His hands wrapped around her upper arms, careful of her tender shoulder, pulling her a little closer while his mouth travelled up to the corner of her neck.
He felt the shiver that traveled through her even as she shook her head. "Enough."
Instead of stopping, his arms slid down to wrap around her waist, and a hand found the base of her spine. In a slow, aching motion, he pushed her forward as his hips rolled up to nestle against her. He heard her protest stop short, and when she tried again her voice was weaker. "Atton, please."
She was begging him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, fighting for control. She wanted him to stop. She didn't want to be in danger of losing the Force again. He should let her go.
But…Jaq coaxed in his head…she would never be so weak again; in any other situation, she could have Force-choked him into submission by now. He'd never have another chance like this...
"Just this once. The Force will come back, I swear, and you can get all your control again afterward. Just this once."
He bit into the skin on her neck and grabbed her legs. In one deft motion, he picked her up, pushing her back onto the med bay bed to slide up and over her. His tongue rolled down to the naked strip of skin at her heart, and he pulled more of the offending cloth away. She wasn't resisting anymore, wasn't protesting. After a pause, his mouth slid back down to brush against her breast.
"You're so soft," he breathed.
"Atton-"
"Mmhmm?" He licked his lips.
"I'm not good enough- I won't have the control to-" Her head abruptly hit the pillow when he started to suckle her. His hands flattened against her back and arched her up into his mouth
When she finally surrendered, he felt her hips shift under him and lift to press into his lower body. He stopped abruptly and looked up at her.
"You cannot do that if you want me to take my time."
She seemed a bit tentative still, but her fingers traveled down and hooked around her robe, and she carefully pulled it off. She was waiting, utterly unselfconscious, as Atton took his sweet time storing every bit of her body into his memory. She was beautiful, and there were so many things he wanted to do…his only problem was where to start.
He smirked a bit and ran his palms down to her lower thighs, pushing her legs open.
"Make sure you're ready for this."
"Ready for what?" she asked shakily.
He dipped his head down and lightly flicked his tongue over her. Her fist clenched, as if bracing herself.
His tongue began at the bottom and languidly licked up, hot and heavy, and he shuddered as she let out a long, low moan. Her hips rose up as he got closer to the top, trying to prevent him from stopping. But when he pulled her into his mouth and sucked her, she bucked against him, and the whimpers she let out thinned his patience.
"You're killing me here," he murmured into her.
"How?" she said in a low voice. She closed her eyes and sighed.
"That," he replied. His tongue circled her before he spoke again. "Those noises you're making. I'm trying to let you enjoy this," he paused to pull her into his mouth again, and she bit her lip, "but it's becoming difficult not to rush it."
Her hips wriggled against him again, and he probed her with his tongue, teasing her, noting what she liked the most. He wanted to do this all night- give her body the careful and thorough attention he'd painstakingly dreamed of- but this first time, he was too impatient, too worried she'd change her mind. Later, then.
In the middle of a moan, she begged, "Atton. Rush it."
He took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up. His shirt and pants were off within seconds, and when he came back to her, she wrapped her long legs around him and waited.
There was no way to be in control now. He was shaking as he bent down to kiss her, his lips tangling with hers. All the lighthearted feelings were gone.
Slowly, he lifted himself in to her, finding contact with a hot, wet center. For just a moment, he reminded himself to breathe before he did this, and then pushed in a little until the opening gave way and he felt himself slide in.
It took every ounce of control he had to wait and be gentle. She had hardly flinched when he finally took her, but he couldn't take advantage of that…
She pulled up a little, bringing him in about halfway. His eyes slammed shut. "Oh shit, you're tight," he managed through gritted teeth. "I gotta work this in or I'm gonna hurt you."
He rolled his hips down carefully, light and gentle, then felt slick heat sheathe him entirely. The sudden, wet squeeze snapped his head back, and he groaned, going still.
"Atton," she pleaded. Her back arched and her nails dug into him, and he began to ram himself against her, fast and hard. He took half a second to worry that he was hurting her, but when he slowed down, she cried out and shifted up.
He choked on his moan when he felt how deep she'd pushed him in. She started to lift against him, letting out a soft sound with each slide into her. It was too much for Atton. Watching her hips sway against him, hearing her sigh into his ear, feeling her move him in and out rocked shudders over him in waves.
He swore. "Avery, fuck, slow down. You're too tight and too wet for me to keep up this pace with you."
She paused and looked up at him, her breaths quick. Her eyes were shot with silver, and a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. The leader in her was taking over. She stopped and pulled up quickly.
His breath hissed as the cold air knifed at him. Her absence made him throb, and his hips pleadingly jerked against her. When she wouldn't let him in, he grabbed her waist and tried to push her back down.
She allowed him, but barely. She nuzzled him against her opening and began to push him in, torturously slow. He felt every rift and hitch as her warmth finally began to cover him. He exerted as much patience as he could, but he couldn't help letting out a long groan as she finally covered the last few inches.
She started to pull up a second time, but he gripped her waist tighter and shook his head. "No. We're not doing that again."
Her head cocked to the side, her voice silky. "You said I was going too fast."
He grunted when she nuzzled him in tighter, shutting his eyes. "Yeah, but this isn't fair, either."
Abruptly, she lifted herself up and let him out completely, lying back down on the bed. His eyes snapped open and he took half a second to stare at her languid form in outrage.
"No," he repeated, his voice harsh. Jaq's voice. "If you keep this up, I can't be held accountable for what happens."
She smiled at him slyly and began to get up.
"Stop." His jaw clenched. "I'm not done with you."
She didn't listen, and instinct took over. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down, shoving her legs open. He entered her hard, and sucked in his breath as she covered him again. When she moaned and nestled against him, he was gone. Everything was focused on driving into her over and over, reveling in her whimpers and her legs wrapping around him to pull him in tighter. He was brutalizing her, but no one else could take it like this. She was tough, thick-skinned, had a primal side she had to tap into in order to survive. He had that same animalistic part of him, the part he had to suppress to keep himself in the world. He'd never known a woman like her. She could hurt him, use him, pick him apart, and he would still worship her. He'd never get a chance like this again, to have her so vulnerable…he had no choice but to do this- take her like this- while he could.
Her head snapped back, and she arched against him, shuddering. The muscles around him contracted, tightened, squeezed him hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. A hot sweep of pleasure slid up his spine, and he finally let go, pumping into her, grunting with each breath as wave after wave of tension broke. As he finally, haltingly subsided, he took a moment to feel the last of her pulses around him. He leaned down and lovingly kissed the crook of her neck, her cheeks, her forehead, and finally her mouth before he reluctantly slid out of her, sighing as he felt the vacancy. So, so much better than he'd imagined.
Her breathing had finally slowed, and now he watched her alertly. She couldn't be upset about this. This couldn't be the only time.
Her hands traveled down his chest, trailing over the hard muscles to curve around to his back. "Don't….please don't leave just yet," she said hesitantly.
He visibly wilted with relief and lay beside her. "Of course not. I'll only leave when you're falling asleep."
"You doing something I say? That would be a first for tonight."
He chuckled and kissed her bare shoulder. "I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry."
"You're such a nice person."
He shrugged, grinning. "I'll be utterly submissive from now on. I just couldn't pass up the chance."
"I should be angry with you."
Avery stretched lazily, belying her previous words, and Atton took his time appreciating her from head to toe. He knew she had to sleep soon, so he might as well enjoy this while he could. For just tonight, he had her how he wanted. Well, physically at least.
Her eyes began to close, and he reluctantly stood. "Goodnight Avery," he said quietly.
"Night Atton."
He locked the door behind him, to make sure no one walked in on her naked. He didn't want Mical to have a heart attack in the morning.
"Oh, Force, what have I done?"
The Exile was sitting up in bed, pressing the sheet to her horrified face. What she felt last night was too much. As she remembered each detail, she pressed the sheet tighter, little pained sounds coming out of the back of her throat. "I can't believe that- well, not that Atton did, but that I…"
What if she couldn't be a Jedi anymore? What if she lost the Force? Atton had reassured her low in her ear, told her she could get it back while he pressed himself to her, and it was evidence of how weak and distracted she'd been that she'd believed him. Eventually, it got to the point where she wouldn't have cared even if she did lose the Force.
Avery squeaked into the sheet again. Atton naked. Atton's head between her legs, her fingers twisted into his hair. She could practically hear the sounds that she'd brought out of him echoing in the room. He'd done this thing where he'd rolled his hips kind of…up into her…her stomach plummeted when she remembered. This stuff would be on replay for the rest of her life, probably, so how was she supposed to control her thoughts and channel the Force?
She'd just been tempted by the Dark side into this very scenario. Just as the images had promised, it was animalistic and overwhelming and full of tempestuous pleasure. All things she needed to avoid.
But even in her shock, even in her fear, there was something tugging at the corner of her brain. Something a person she loved had told her, something important. What had it been?
"Someone told me it's okay to-" She closed her eyes, concentrated. "Something about turning away…" Her eyes snapped open. "Revan. Revan told me."
"This is the argument that high and mighty Jedi refuse to acknowledge," Revan says tiredly. "Falling in love and losing your temper and being frightened of what's to come are considered aspects of the Dark side by those great Light side Jedi Masters. They're wrong, Avery." He pulls her to him in a fierce hug. "As your mentor, as your Master, I want you to be able to experience life as a human Jedi without others telling you it will make you a Sith. These feelings make you human, Avery, they make you real. Not evil."
"But isn't that the essence, the root of the deepest connection with the Light side of the Force? We are stronger because we run from temptations, from passions, from the worst fears and most ardent loves?" Avery is aghast.
"Yes. It is. Yet Vrook and all those high-and-mighty Jedi are detached from reality, Avery. You know that. They can't see things right in front of them; they run away from problems their perfect separation from emotion can't handle or fix. It is not strength to run from those feelings. It robs you of the strength to grow."
"But my connection with the Light side of the Force-"
"Do not let the higher mysteries blind you to others. Turning away from that which tempts you or causes you fear is not strength. Facing it is. When you lose your temper, when you love another, when you feel lust or fear or pain, it only makes you stronger, more capable."
She's shaking her head. "Lust and fear and hatred are of the Dark-"
"No. Feeling these things are human, emotions you can only control if you feel them instead of pretending they don't exist. It is living off these things, drawing your power from them, dwelling in them that is of the Dark side. Of course you must be careful, dear one, but feeling those things may make you stronger in the Force."
"Turning away from that which tempts you or causes you fear is not strength. Facing it is." Avery's whisper was barely audible. "…Facing it is."
Tranquility settled over her again. So long as she didn't dwell in it, revel in it, perhaps she could control it. After all, Revan loved a woman when he'd rejoined the Republic, and he'd been neutral in the Force. One night with a man wouldn't turn her into a female Sion.
This image tickled her, and she was still smiling as Mical politely knocked. She remotely unlocked the door and waited.
There was rustling outside. "No no, you do not need to come in. I'm just going to check up on her."
"Trust me." Atton's voice vibrated through the wall. "I gotta go first."
The scuttling intensified before the door opened and Atton rushed through. The door shut behind him, and he was greeted with the sight of a naked Jedi semi-tangled up in the sheets.
"Hey there," he managed. She was just as appealing the morning after.
Avery stretched, smug as a kitten, noting Atton's relentless appraisal of her. She frowned a little in discomfort when her shoulder shifted.
"I figured I'd come in first," Atton said in a low voice, "to make sure you were all dressed before he-"
"Oh. Right." She pulled on blue robe again and opened the door. "Come on in, Mical," she called.
The disciple looked properly outraged and refused to speak until Atton made his way out. As he left the room, Atton thought about telling Mical that he practically saved his life by dressing the Exile, but figured he'd be the better person and let it go.
For now.