A.N.:  Eh, back to the story after the lapse into my one-shot world.  I figure I should clarify, since I forgot to address something at the beginning of the last story.  Chapter 6 (I guess, ff.net isn't working right now, so I can't check to make sure that's the right number) was actually the very first chapter written for this story, and because I liked it, I decided to make it a multi-chapter kind of thing.  Because of that, the chapter jumps around, and Ashton's first section is in reality happening after Rune's.  So, no, it's not a dream, just poorly placed.  Sorry if that was confusing.

Eliath always had a flair for the ornate.  His quarters dripped with rich furnishings.  Tapestries from the hands of species long extinct hid polished metal bulkheads.  Exotic animal skins muffled the empty echo of the grating underfoot.  One could almost believe the illusion that we were not on a ship at all, hurtling through space towards imminent servitude.  Almost.  I could still hear the hollow clanging beneath his heavy boots as he paced the room.  Recycled air circulated, washing over my face, the stale waves bringing with them the unmistakable smell of warm circuitry and machine lubricant.  My arms were still bound sorely at the wrist behind me as I lay face down on the overstuffed, burgundy lounger.  I could hear the rustle of fabric passing my head as I counted his restless steps: five down one side of the room, five back, slowly, one after the other.

He stopped after a while, his body momentarily blocking out the dim light of the cabin from my view.  Suddenly, he grabbed me by the hair, forcing my face to meet his as he pulled me roughly to sitting position.

"Just how long do you intend to lay there, my dear Rune? We both know you could have snapped those binders a long time ago," he sneered.  I wrenched my head from his grasp.

"What is your point, Eliath?"  I hissed, my voice lowering. He merely smiled, sliding the table behind him closer as he sat in front of me, trapping my knees between his.  He leaned forward, his hands coming to rest on either side of my legs. 

"Oh, Rune…You have no idea how boring it's been here without that obstinate nature of yours," he chuckled, his inky eyes searching my face.  They flicked to the side nervously before settling on mine, his voice lowering to a whisper.  "You can still come back, you know.  Join us again, take your place at my side, like it used to be," he said almost pleadingly, his fingers digging into the soft plush of the couch beside me.  "Never again would we be thrust into the shadows, another taking the credit for our work.  They wouldn't dare defy us-"

I looked away, my hands shifting uncomfortably, trapped behind me.  "I came for one thing, and one thing only," I interrupted.

Eliath paused, staring blankly at me, his words stopping short.  With renewed fury, he slammed his fists onto the settee.  His eyes narrowed.  "Oh yes, your precious family." His face twisted.

He shoved the table back, the heavy lumber grating across metal as it cut through the fur carpet.  His lips were quivering. "Don't worry, they are both quite intact. Can't hurt my little playing cards, now can I? That just wouldn't be smart."  Eliath was struggling with the murderous look in his eye, as if slitting my throat now would almost be as rewarding as waiting for whatever scheme he spent these long nights brooding over in silence.

 "Retribution has been suggested, for all the troubles you've caused Us.  We've been nice enough to give you a choice: you can either take one of them back with you, leaving the other here to our…tender mercies, or you agree to a little match We've so graciously arranged with the chance that both may leave."  His hand shot out, clenching around my throat and pulling me to my feet as he stood.  "Of course, until you decide, you'll have pleasure of remaining in my company.  But, don't take too long, love," he pouted, his fingers digging into the flesh of my neck.  "I'd hate to get bored and remove your options."

Eliath returned when expected, his silhouette shading the blinding light from my tiny cell.  Sometime during the last few hours, he had unbound his hair and changed clothes, his white shirt hanging open.  Obviously unarmed, he seemed more threatening now than before.  It probably had something to do with the tattoo splashed across his chest that seemed to writhe like a mass of insects just beneath his pale skin.  I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

            After our first meeting, he had left me with a promise that I couldn't wait to see fulfilled.  I could feel the anger burning in my face, my hands clenching behind my back.  But as the time passed, my anger seemed more and more unjust, until finally, I had forgotten why Rune's name brought a sour taste to my mouth.  She had nothing to do with my Father's death, certainly, and I had forgiven her a long time ago for anything else.  Once, she explained how she had vowed never to wield a weapon again after I complained about the one-sidedness of our training.  In fact, I was angry at myself for not being fast enough to protect Mother.  I shouldn't have let her take on the burden for taking care of my family, when I was more than capable of doing the same. 

            The man smiled and stepped to the side, gesturing into the hallway.  At first, I thought he would remove the binders from my wrists, but he quickly took the lead, leaving me to stumble after him, blinking in the unnatural light and struggling to hide my face against my shoulder.

            "Terribly sorry about the restraints, little Ashton, but you aren't quite a guest here, you know," he said lightly as we continued down the passage.  It appeared to be cut from the same rock as the cell, although now and then, I could make out the gleaming of metal at the end of shadowy branches that appeared infrequently.  Sometimes, I could make out figures in the gloom, but the too-bright lighting overhead kept me from making out details and reaching out to them left me feeling dizzy and drained.  I thought I heard Eliath's derisive snort of laughter. 

            We rounded a corner and continued up an incline to another metal door like the ones I had seen from a distance.  I was trying not to look at his face or his chest, instead concentrating on the thigh-length mass of black hair as it swayed with his movements, just touching his dark pants.  If I tried hard enough, I could imagine myself with someone else.  Perhaps then I wouldn't be so quick to accept his baiting. With the slight flick of his wrist, what sounded like massive gears grinded, sliding back what I found were arm-thick pinion locks with an echoed click.  The door swung open away from us, and into a small box overlooking rows of honeycombed metal boxes built into the walls surrounding a darkened pit area.  I made a move to enter, but the Dark sider grabbed my arm and yanked me back into the hall.

            "Now Ashton," he cooed again, flicking his hair behind an ear with his free hand while continuing his hold on me with the other.  "You haven't said a word of gratitude this entire time."  His grip tightened.  "After all the trouble I've gone through for your sake, despite all the prosaic little things I've seen.  I was even willing to offer you quite a bargain, but if you are content to let your Mother die, well-"

            "My Mother? She's here?"  I perked, raising my eyes from the floor and stepping closer to him that I would have otherwise liked.  "I thought…she was already dead…"

            Eliath's smile was feral as he snaked his other hand around my waist.  "Of course.  I have no reason to kill her.  She's not the one I want, after all.  I'm more than willing to give her up…for a price…"

            "What? What? Anything…"  I was breathless.  I couldn't talk fast enough, to get the promise of her release, ignoring even the beginning of pain that radiated from the base of my skull, slowly radiating down my spine.

            Pulling me into his chest, Eliath leaned his cheek into my ear.  "Rune couldn't wait to get rid of you, you know.  She's the one that suggested that you fight her," he stroked my skin with his breath, practically purring.  "Fight her.  Kill her, and you can go free."

            I was expecting anything but that, really.  Rune had never touched a weapon while she lived with us.  She never so much as struck at me in violence, and our practices were structured so that she only attacked when she was explaining how to defend against certain techniques.  "I…I don't believe…"  The pain cut me off, squeezing at the back of my skull just as Eliath tightened his arms around me. 

            "There's nothing to believe.  She's Ours.  Our tool.  Our weapon.  Ours to control, she always will be.  Never yours.  Do you understand that? All that time, all that wasted time when you thought she was yours, and We were controlling her."  I shook my head, trying feebly to escape his grasp.  "What? Still don't believe?  Then look.  Look at your precious Rune, who never held a weapon against you."

            I continued to resist, continued to struggle in vain, even though my mother's life was in the balance.  Never, the things he said would never happen.  I had to believe that.  But when he placed a hand at my back and pushed me into the open doorway I never saw, tumbling me the short distance into the arena, I knew he was right.

            There was always something missing from the Rune I knew.  Something cut away from the woman that haunted my nightmares to make her the woman that I called Teacher.  That something was in her hand now, glittering cold and hard within her grasp.  It made her larger than life, and terrifyingly real, shattering any dreams I may have harbored, dreams that were still very intangible, despite the one night, the one kiss she never returned.  More terrifying without her robes that hid the tight cords of muscles in her arms, the inhuman paleness of her skin lined with scars she never discussed.  I tried to keep myself from shrinking back, remembering why I was here in the first place.

            "Get up," she whispered harshly, her face as blank as the stone around us.  Her arms hung limply at her side, her brilliant green eyes staring at the sand just shy of my feet, almost hidden by her lose hair. 

            Suddenly, I heard a wail behind me.  Rune flinched, and I knew it was my mother. She was still alive.  There was only one way to save her. 

            I crawled to my feet, the restraints falling open with a click, and she tossed me Jal's lightsaber from where it was tucked into her belt.

            "Rune Ariala," I heard myself say with a remarkably stable voice.  "I have come to kill you."