The Foundation of All Desire (Part 51)
The jungle appeared to be melting, and threatened to take the mountains down with it through the deluge coated windows. Liatrix rubbed at her arms, hoping to relieve the cold she felt down to her marrow.
"You look tired…" Scourge met her gaze in the window's reflection as he settled a throw over her shoulders.
"I haven't been sleeping."
"Nor will you, until you speak to him. Three days have passed. Waiting any longer would be ill-advised. Do not prolong the inevitable. Settle this—for your own peace of mind."
She drew the coverlet about her shoulders more snugly and her eyes narrowed. "I asked you not to tell him but you did anyway. You didn't even try to respect my wishes."
"It was for your own sake. Do you think I delight in seeing you suffer?" He set his hands over her shoulders. "Why must you be needlessly difficult?" He turned her to face him. "Go to him. Have I ever given you false counsel or misled you?"
Liatrix shook her head, "No. No you haven't."
"Then go to him. Go now."
"All right. Fine. Honestly you can be such a nag sometimes."
"I can remedy that to all the time."
Liatrix growled.
A low deep chuckle escaped Scourge, his lips lifting in amusement as she stalked off, coverlet dragging behind her like a tail.
Not a quarter of an hour later, Liatrix found herself in the doorway of Marr's meditation chamber. She looked up at her mother's portrait, drew a deep breath and padded inside the darkened room. Her breath ghosted around her and she shivered.
"Why is it always so damn cold in here," she muttered under her breath.
"It's an effect of the dark side. In time you will adapt," Marr said.
Clad in a floor length black cassock, he stood in the darkest corner of the chamber, communing with the writhing darkness.
"Father…"
"You've been avoiding me." Darth Marr summoned a blazing fire in the hearth with barely a touch to his com panel.
"I didn't know what to say…or if there was anything left to be said." She moved closer to the fire and stared into the writhing flames. The undulating spears waged their own battle between light and dark—bright gold struggling against the deep blue roots where flame met embers. "Lord Scourge—told you everything?"
"He told me…enough."
"I wish he hadn't."
"Why?"
"I feared you'd hate me, because of what she did." Liatrix shot an accusatory glance at her mother's portrait, silently cursing her resemblance to the woman.
"No. You're not accountable for her actions, nor the struggles we endured." He clasped his hands behind his back and paced. "I would have preferred to hear the truth from you, but Lord Scourge was wise to confide in me on your behalf."
"I was angry with him…"
"You realize, in him, you have an advantage over most Sith—a trustworthy ally, a guardian, an advisor—perhaps more." His countenance fixed on her, as if appraising her reaction to his observation.
She arched a questioning brow, "Father?"
"Am I mistaken?"
"No."
"He is a rarity in our world, and you would be foolish to dismiss him or risk losing him to another."
"Are you suggesting what I think you are?"
"Ours is a difficult path…more so, if you face it alone. With him at your side, that is something you never need fear," Marr said.
"You've certainly warmed up to him. I didn't think you even liked him."
"I wanted to be certain he was worthy of you. His past associations suggested otherwise, but I believe he's proven his loyalty to you beyond doubt."
"He has always been there for me when I needed him most…" Liatrix paced and stared out at the night. The rain had stopped, and the jungle came alive under the light of Dromund Kaas's twin moons. She could see all the way to the river, the moonlight fractured across its winding length.
She was reminded of nights on Yavin, and then the last moments in the hangar on Coruscant and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
"There is little sense clinging to what might have been. Let it go."
"It's not easy, father."
"I am no stranger to grief. Release the past. Your future is here, and you have much to learn before we encounter Vitiate again."
"I know…" She turned back to him. "I still hope to be the lady in the fire someday."
"I thought perhaps you'd abandoned that hope since our last encounter."
"No. If anything I want it more. I regret embarrassing you. It wasn't the beginning I'd hoped for."
"Nor I. But it is only the beginning." Darth Marr settled into his chair.
"I gave Ravage ammunition…is there anything to be done about it? I want to prove myself to you."
"For now, he remains ignorant of two facts…that you've regained the memories the Jedi stole from you…and that I know the truth. That, is to our advantage—leverage I plan to use, to further our aims."
She perched on the chair and settled into the crevasse between his hip and the arm rest, and found herself surprised when he shifted to make more room for her. "I hated the rift between us, even if it was only for a short while. Maybe that was what Ravage had in mind all along…I don't want to let him win."
"Your mother said something similar to me once."
"Did you know…about them before?"
"Were it not for Ravage's invitation, I would never have discovered her."
"Did Lord Scourge tell you about the child?"
"Yes. He told me you protected your mother at great risk to yourself. Ravage is no fool. He fears what you will become. You faced him down as a child, not something easily dismissed. He will attempt to provoke you again. You must learn to dismiss him, as Nox does, but remain vigilant as well."
"Why not kill him?"
"In time. For now he serves his purpose, and the Council remains sorely depleted, an issue I soon hope to rectify."
"Do you hate mother?"
He was still and silent for a long time. "No. She was a prisoner of her loneliness. She'd always thought merely being with me would be enough…but in truth I suspected it wouldn't be. I am incapable of the companionship she desired. It is a delusion you cling to as well."
"I don't believe that." She turned and arranged herself more comfortably against his hip. "If you were incapable of it, you wouldn't be telling me this. I know your true self is still in there. I felt it on Yavin." She cupped the cheek of his mask, and caressed the grooves with the pad of her thumb.
"There is no humanity left in this husk."
She dropped her head against the inside of his shoulder and set her hand over his chest. "Will you let me see for myself?"
"It would seem there is no warning you away. But I caution you—seeing me as I truly am—men have been driven mad by the sight—some even to their deaths."
"I want to see my father's face. The Jedi stole that from me, and I want it back. That's all I want."
"Let us hope that's all you desire. Unleashing the darkness is not to be taken lightly."
"I understand, father."
He unclasped the mask from its housing, and drew the frontispiece away. He placed the mask in her hands, but her gaze remained riveted on where his face should've been.
She canted her head, her lips quivering as if looking for words or even sound. "Father? That can't be…it can't be. Please show me your face…" Her gaze grew bleary.
Under his hood there was only darkness—a tumult of sensation without the restraint of the physical. She felt herself drawn toward the bitter cold she felt from the void under his hood.
The darkness engulfed her, and she found herself alone at the heart of it. The darkness was not one entity, but many, fused together by the arcane—a clamouring maw, hungering to devour the Master and usurp his control. The darkness had lived countless lives through countless people, acquiring their wisdom and power, and the presence of a new life within reach, incited it.
Liatrix shivered. Senses had no place in the darkness—she saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing besides the cold, and for the first time, she understood the hell Scourge had endured and described to her.
"Father?" She felt panic swell in her chest and she reached out for him. "Father? Don't leave me."
"I haven't left you. Nor will I. We are still as we were in my chamber, the darkness is an illusion. There is no need to fear…you are my blood."
She reached for the darkness, cupping it in her hands like water. Her fingertips grew numb. Ignoring the sensation, she gazed into the void, with the expectation of a face, one she hoped would be familiar. She caressed the growing darkness in the hope of earning its favor.
"Be mindful of what you awaken with your touch, and what you ask of it," he warned.
"All I want, is to know your face."
Liatrix felt the darkness and its legion of entities touch her mind as it sought to indulge her request. The energy receded back to Marr and began to take shape.
The darkness became matter—forming pale flesh—a strong masculine mouth and jaw, the rest a compromise between the rugged and the aristocratic. She saw in him a distinguished man, forged from the fiery good looks he'd been possessed of as a much younger man. She was met with a steely penetrating gaze that seemed to drink in her every secret.
"Father," she beamed. "I can see you…" She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and his cheek. "I remember now," she half spoke, half laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling with delight.
She held his face between her hands and committed his features to memory. He remained still and silent, his body a glacier against hers. She admired the full head of dark hair, silvered at the temples and the ocean blue eyes he'd given her.
The mask's indelible lines formed a tall hexagon over his cheeks and forehead that reminded her of a coffin, each angle marked by a point that could have been a nail. She pressed her forehead to his. Closing her eyes, she lingered there.
After a moment, she drew back and gazed at him, the pads of her fingers tracing his jaw. She didn't dare look away lest he fade back into the darkness.
The darkness embraced her and she could feel its icy caress and frost forming on her lips.
"Stop!" Marr snatched up the mask and repositioned it over his face as if he were sealing a portal. "You mustn't look on me with such longing."
"Why? You don't need to hide from me."
"What you saw was nothing more than an illusion…a memory of the man that I was. What remains is the darkness and it is more keenly aware of you now. Tempt it no further."
Liatrix winced, "I sensed many entities. Will you become a part of the darkness one day…will another control you, as you do them, now?"
"The entities you sensed sacrificed themselves in exchange for a service rendered. A Master of the Gathering Darkness subjugates them—controls them. Through blood…through ritual, control is learned. The darkness is bound to me and will remain in our line to command."
"All I wanted was to know your face." The coverlet slipped from her shoulders as she moved toward him, taking the straps of her nightgown with it to expose her shoulders.
Darth Marr turned away, "No, there was more. You crave the dark side's favor—you desire answers and outcomes…even to questions you dare not ask or admit."
"Father…why won't you look at me?"
"Looking on you at times is difficult…Gaze into the fire and I will show you your answers."
She clasped his elbow and watched the flames churn and thrash. "I don't see anything."
"You will."
The flames shot up, straight and blue, forming images of those from her past—those that grieved her, those that cherished her and those that feared her.
"Let the past go…" Marr whispered. "Embrace your future."
The images faded until only one figure remained before her. She crept closer to the fire and the figure mirrored her actions. He stood before her, seemingly watching her, as she watched him.
She reached out and gasped when she burned herself. She suckled her fingertips to soothe the pain, but kept her eyes fixed on the man in the fire.
Someone spoke in her mind…someone she didn't recognize, and she decided it was a voice from the darkness—
"Fire is divinity and must never be touched. It's forbidden…"
She wavered as if something incorporeal had passed through her body, and then the sensation was gone, but the man in the fire was still there.
"I—I feel like I should know him," she stammered.
"Focus."
Liatrix sharpened her gaze, peering beyond the mask and hood and into the darkness. A face formed from the shadows.
"Theron!" Her hand flew to her lips. "No…how can this be?"
"That is not Theron. That…is your son, a man grown."
"Father…he has your power…"
"Our power," Marr corrected, "A Lord of Hatred, and a Master of the Growing Darkness in his own right and bane to our enemies."
The young man in front of her, hissed in an ancient tongue, the language little more than an ominous hiss usually heard from dread shades of the ancient dead.
"What did he say?"
"It's not the boy who speaks—but the darkness, in a tongue only you are meant to understand."
"But I don't. How will I know what it said?"
"You must go to Dromund Fels and pay tribute to the first Lord and Master. You must submit to him and he will teach you."
"What do you mean by submit?" Liatrix arched a brow. "Will doing so strip me of all humanity like it did you?"
"It depends on the price the first Lord and Master exacts from you. It is your right to refuse."
Another figure manifested in the fire, this one pure shadow and less willing to come forth. She remained behind the young masked Sith lord. Her arms coiled about him seductively, and she whispered endearments in his ear.
"Who is she?"
"At present, only a possibility. Mind what you have seen here tonight. You leave for Dromund Fels in the morning. When you return, we will consult the fire again."
"Am I to go alone?"
Marr gazed into the flames at the shadowy feminine figure and shook his head. "No. Take Lord Scourge with you."
Theron rolled out from underneath the classic Desler he was restoring at his apartment on Coruscant. He looked up to see his father standing over him. "I see you decided to let yourself in. What do you want?"
"Not like you were answering the door or your com. I came to see how you were holding up." Jace ran his hand along the speeder's graceful fins.
"What part of leave me the hell alone do none of you get?"
"Satele has been trying to reach you."
"That would be why I turned off my com."
"Let's talk." Jace extended his hand to give Theron a hand up off the mechanic's creeper.
Theron ignored it and pushed himself to a stand. He tossed the hydrospanner into the toolbox and wiped his hands. "Fine. Whatever. I have the feeling you won't leave until you say what you came to say anyway."
Jace dropped his hand, "Have you been keeping up with the reports?"
"Not since the Lerik'Ing interview the other night on Corusnet. Outrageous what that old Toydarian comes up with," Theron scoffed.
Jace nodded, "But in this case, it sounds like he's on to something."
"Oh please. Don't tell me you're actually buying into that whole conspiracy crap."
"C'mon, even you have to admit it's a bit suspect when the only ones aboard the ship were the droids and her Sith lord…the rest of the crew conveniently on leave. Not to mention, what the other guests said. She had another side to her…"
"You really think she planned this—that she and Marr were in on it." Theron shook his head and snorted. "Get out."
"Marr was waiting for them in Imperial space and took out Haverly's entire fleet. I know you don't want to believe it…"
"Because I know better." Theron threw his hands up. "Look, what she and I had is over, got it? It's over and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. So…stop bringing it up and let me move on."
Jace sighed heavily. "I spoke to Markus…he'd like to get you working again."
"Heh. This should be good." Theron crossed his arms.
"I won't lie, the SIS wants you to lure her out. If anyone can do it, it's you."
"Absolutely not!"
"That's what I figured you'd say, but be honest, she has to be brought to justice."
"I won't do it. If that's all Markus can do for me, then he can have my resignation."
"You know they have other ways…I just thought it would give you closure."
"What makes you think I need closure? There's something pretty damn final about watching your fiancée making a run for it with her ex. Now unless you've got a speeder that needs tuning up, get out."
"I'm sorry son…stay in touch, okay?"
"Just leave me alone," Theron shook his head and snarled something in high Gamorrean.
Doc sauntered into the hangar and circled the light freighter. He nodded his approval, "Veek, my man, lookin' good."
The Rodian grunted and gave a wave of acknowledgement.
"So uh, how long do you reckon before we can fly her? You've been working at her for a while now."
Veek scratched his head and pursed his snout. He muttered his response and slapped the hull.
"Hey, that's great news. So two, maybe three days she'll be airborne. Keep up the great work. Now I gotta think of a name for her. Can't have a ship without a name, can we?" Doc chuckled, "I'm thinking…the Cygnus. Good choice huh? I think the Captain'll love it."
Veek saluted him and watched him saunter off. Then he installed the SIS tracker inside the lower hull plating and initialized it.
Liatrix stole into Marr's darkened bedchamber and eased the doors shut. Firelight quivered over the walls, and the scent of ozone and rain wafted in from the balcony. The sound of deep, serene breathing lured her attention to the sleeping Sith lord draped over the chair in front of the blazing hearth.
The same chair practically swallowed her when she occupied it, but his body dominated it to the point where she expected it to beg for mercy.
Thick muscular arms dangled over the armrests and long powerful legs extended well beyond the footrest. Her gaze panned down his chest, sliding lower to his thighs and the potent bulge between them, her focus lingering long enough that she felt her cheeks flush with the memory of what it felt like to have those limbs wrapped around her.
She inched closer to the chair and gazed down at him. With his head tipped back over the backrest, she found herself mesmerized by the interplay of light and dark warring over his features.
He had long thick lashes that only appeared when he slept. His hooded eyes and penetrating scowl keeping them hidden during the day, and stealing a glimpse of them brought a smile to her face.
Scourge shifted in his sleep and crossed his arms. For a moment she thought he would awaken. His arms remained crossed over his chest when he settled, and she mused that he was probably born that way.
You've always been there for me, she thought.
His lower lip twitched, and she bent over him, her mouth hovering over his, while she debated stealing a kiss. Impulse won over sense and she brushed her mouth against his. She drew back smiling, smug in the knowledge that she'd gotten away with it.
She slipped the coverlet from her shoulders and settled it over him, and then backed away slowly to ready for bed.
"For future reference, I prefer to be kissed while I'm awake," he announced.
Liatrix gasped and froze. "Bastard…"
He chuckled and threw off the coverlet.
Liatrix folded her arms. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"And ruin the moment?"
She glared at him flatly and he laughed harder.
"I take it all is well in the Marr household again?"
"Mostly." She shot a scowl in his direction. "I'm going to Dromund Fels in the morning."
"The planet of my birth…" He crossed the room and stood behind her. "I'd always hoped to take you there one day…show you something of my life before." He thought on the vision he'd had on Rishi and found himself buoyed by the prospect of the trip.
"Guess you have your chance." Liatrix held herself and shivered under the fresh crop of goose pimples dotting her skin. "I'd rather not go alone."
"Not that I would allow it…I would see you protected."
He stroked her arms, to soothe away the cold and she glanced back at him, her gaze softening. "Would you mind holding me tonight…until I fall asleep? I can't get warm here."
"You're inviting me into your bed."
The gravelly warmth of his voice quickened her and she averted her gaze, hoping he wouldn't sense it. "I suppose I am, but just to hold me, like you used to."
He paced a few steps and toyed with his tendril ring, feigning deep thought. He let the moment hang between them before answering. "Very well, but only for tonight. The next time you invite me into your bed, My Lord Emperor, it will be for a great deal more."
((To be continued…))
