Content warnings: Atai Molec being a creep, Non-graphic 'forced' oral sex (Convor giving, Molec receiving), Ahsoka is forced to witness the act above
Ahsoka woke up to the smell of roasted nuna steaks and pungent sufar greens
Unable to remember how long it had been since her last meal, her stomach was rumbling before she even opened her eyes.
She was not expecting what she saw.
She was in a room that she hadn't been in before. It was lavishly decorated, even more so than the bedroom, with large paintings hanging on the walls, and a fireplace that crackled and warmed the space without making it stuffy.
There was a large table that could probably seat over twenty people, covered in delicacies and expensive cooked meats that Ahsoka had only heard about from Padmé's teenage years as a Queen.
Fresh fruits and nuts filled small bowls, filling in the space amongst artisan bread loaves and steaming fish dishes. Her eyes were drawn to the centerpiece, a skinned and roasted akul with a round galma stuffed into its mouth, the blood-red fruit making it look like it had just hunted.
The way the akul's empty eye sockets stared back at Ahsoka made her feel uncomfortable, and this feeling only worsened when she realised that Molec had purposefully had this animal cooked and displayed in front of her.
Her headpiece suddenly felt much heavier.
She was very surprised to find herself seated at the head of the table, but not tied down in any way. The cuffs remained on her wrists, though they weren't connected, and the shock collar rubbed uncomfortably against fresh burns, but she was otherwise free to move.
And it appeared that she was the only person inside the room.
Ahsoka carefully stood up. Her muscles were sore and stiff, her shoulder still aching. Her throat was dry like Tatooine, though she ignored the temptation of drinking from the filled glasses on the table.
She didn't know if anything had been poisoned. Molec wouldn't have just left her amongst all this food- unattended- without bad intentions.
He was clearly smarter than he let on.
Moving away from the table, Ahsoka took the time to examine her new surroundings.
There was no cutlery on the table, leaving her unable to smuggle a weapon under her outfit. She didn't expect Molec would be willing to give her a knife, even if he were able to activate her shock collar whenever he pleased.
There were two doors to the dining room, but no windows. Upon testing both doors, she wasn't surprised to find them locked.
Turning back to the burning fire, Ahsoka quickly diminished the thought of escaping through the chimney. She would first have to get the burning logs out of the way and then climb through a small, tight chamber filled with smoke.
She shuddered at the thought of potentially getting stuck up there.
Just as she considered using the burning logs to set fire to the table, in the hopes of causing a commotion that would give her the opportunity to escape, Ahsoka spun around at the sound of the door opening.
Molec stepped inside the room, and someone else closed the door behind him. The Zygerrian placed his hands behind his back, his clothes as pristine as ever.
For someone with such great responsibilities, it seemed he had a lot of time on his hands for taunting her.
"Hello, Blue," he greeted casually, like their last interaction had never happened, "Looking for a way out, I assume?"
"I was just admiring the paintings," she replied, not even putting any passion into the lie. "Was the artist a slave, or did you actually pay them?"
Molec chuckled, walking across the room to sit in the chair that she had woken up in. He grinned slightly, clearly pleased that it was still warm from her own body.
"They're my own works."
Ahsoka lifted an eye marking, glancing again at the paintings. She supposed it made more sense when she actually examined them. Most of the artworks featured naked women serving drinks to men who sat on thrones.
"I never had you down for an artist," Ahsoka commented.
"There are many things you don't know about me, dear Blue." He extended a hand towards her, "Now, come."
"I'd rather keep my distance." She shot back smoothly.
Just being in the same room as this man made her feel uncomfortable. The last she saw of him, he had repeatedly kicked Luna in the stomach until she cried and begged him to stop. Just before that, he had the audacity to touch her lekku and slap her.
She wasn't going to fall for his 'nice guy' act now.
"Don't make me bring some guards in to restrain you," Molec threatened lightly, "I'd like some one-on-one time with my newest girl, so if you please."
He gestured to the table, and Ahsoka begrudgingly dragged her feet. She didn't want to give him the impression that she would obey his every demand, and yet the repetitive electric shocks were starting to take their toll.
That wasn't the only reason why she was obliging.
Molec had proven that he was willing to harm Luna to get Ahsoka to obey. She didn't want to be the reason that any of the girls got hurt.
She sat in the chair at the opposite end of the table, cautious of his every move. She could so easily strangle Molec right now, but she couldn't be so impulsive.
His time would come.
"Please, Blue, help yourself," Molec waved a hand at the food between them. "I can assure you that poisoning you would be such a waste of potential. It is all safe, and rather delicious. This is the same food that I give to the others."
She looked at the different meats and cooked dishes. Really, she should be stubborn and refuse, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't hungry.
Between the stress of the last week and the constant exertion, her stomach was begging for something more substantial than ration bars and Relgim Instant caf.
It took Ahsoka approximately three seconds to determine her decision and take a roll of bread. Molec watched with a sinister smile as she tore the roll in half and began nibbling on the edges.
It wasn't long until her hunger took hold, and Ahsoka was quickly grabbing fruits and cooked vegetables with both hands to stuff into her mouth.
Either Molec was right, or Ahsoka was too hungry to think straight because all of the food was spectacular. The cooked phareen was mellow, the crunchy chipitas had just enough spice to heat her tongue, and the potam had a tangy taste that she couldn't quite identify.
Once she started eating, Ahsoka didn't want to stop.
At the end of the day, food was fuel. She would need to stay strong, and Kix drilled in the importance of saving energy, even whilst imprisoned.
But she wasn't exactly imprisoned right now, or was she? Ahsoka couldn't quite tell.
"I like my girls healthy," Molec commented, sipping from a glass of what must've been wine, confirmed by its dark colour, as he watched Ahsoka eat. "Others like them scrawny, a few like them bigger."
His words made her mouth go dry, but Ahsoka forced herself to continue eating. She didn't know when the opportunity would arise again. She tried to ignore him.
She wondered what type of people ate in this banquet room. Diplomats, or other slavers. Potentially both.
She ate, and Molec sipped at his wine. When he finished one glass, tipping his head back to finish the final drops, he immediately refilled it.
"Before my father became Prime Minister, he owned a vineyard in the highlands." He commented, noticing that her eyes were on the maroon liquid as he swirled it in his glass.
"His most popular variety was a full-bodied red wine. It was a brilliant creation, full of cinnamon aromas. Oak-aged with a sweet tannin finish."
His words didn't mean much to Ahsoka. She'd sipped Anakin's wine at different Senatorial events, but she'd never felt much of a desire to indulge.
Alcohol affected midi-chlorians, and Anakin had lectured Ahsoka several times that she shouldn't put her own selfish desires over the importance of her safety and the safety of others.
The most she had ever drank was at 79s, when Fives bought them a tray of shots to share. Rex had to carry her back to the barracks, Kix threw a fit, and Fives got put on lavatory duty for a month. They made a rule that Anakin was never to find out.
Fair to say, it wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat.
"Why did he decide to change to politics?" She asked between mouthfuls of food, not particularly caring if her poor manners disturbed him.
Molec shook his head, leaning back at looking at the remains of the wine, glinting in the light. "The Jedi came, enforcing their rule that my father could not own slaves to work the vineyards. He tried to compromise, offering to pay them a fair wage if they would stay."
"Let me guess," Ahsoka rolled her eyes, "They didn't."
Molec's frown deepened, "My father's business collapsed. He had to sell the vineyard, lost everything he had worked for. When he signed in as Prime Minister, he vowed to return what had been lost to the Zygerrian population. We would have slaves again, and we would rise."
She lifted an eye marking, "I hope you're not expecting any sympathy from me."
He scoffed, "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to feel sorry for me. You've never had anything taken away from you before."
She scowled at his low blow, but Molec just sipped at his drink.
Molec was pretending that he had it harder than everyone else, simply because his father's vineyard got closed down by the Jedi for the ownership of slaves. He was acting like she wasn't a child soldier who had been taken away from her parents as a toddler.
She had to see her friends die every day. She'd suffered injuries and grief, and woke up screaming from nightmares. Her life was by no means easy.
"Eat some more, Blue," Molec commented, looking at her. "Are they starving you at your precious Temple? You're so slight."
She looked down at her plate, the dainty designs now obscured with crumbs and smears of sauces.
"I'm not hungry anymore."
With so many rich and different dishes, she was likely to make herself unwell if she kept going.
Molec sighed, "Are you sure, my sweet thing?"
"Don't speak to me like that," she growled, wrapping her arms around her middle protectively. She hated when he used that tone, it made her feel uneasy, like he was talking to a child, or a lover.
The corner of Molec's lip turned upwards, like he was amused.
"You're a nice challenge, Blue. It's something different from the norm."
Ahsoka's eye markings flattened, and she sniffed at a glass. It didn't smell alcoholic, so she took a sip. It must've been a sparkling fruit juice because it was sweet and tangy, so she had some more.
"And what exactly is the norm?"
Molec sighed, pouring another glass of wine, "A girl like Luna, all frigid and frightened for the first few months. Then, once she learns her place, she'll be more like Convor and Miel. You've met them, haven't you?"
Ahsoka nodded, disturbed at how he described Luna. It was as if her fear was something of a fetish for him.
"They're very special to me, especially Convor." Molec carried on, "They listen to me, and do as I ask."
"They don't have a choice." Ahsoka muttered.
"You might not think so." Molec drank from his glass. "But look at what they get in return: food, shelter, pleasure."
This brought another scowl to the Jedi's face, "There's no pleasure here."
It was despicable that Molec believed he was doing those women a favour by enslaving them.
The slaver chuckled, "I suppose a Jedi wouldn't think so. You're a virgin, aren't you?"
Ahsoka found herself averting her gaze, immensely uncomfortable. "I won't discuss this with you."
Sex was a rather taboo topic in the Jedi Temple. Padawans were taught to practice abstinence, and Shaak Ti had implied in her lectures to the Twi'lek and Togruta girls that sex was dangerous.
They were told that they were putting themselves at risk by engaging in sexual relations. Ahsoka had grown up afraid of being vulnerable, and put off by the idea of sex altogether.
Anakin, surprisingly, was much laxer. Within a year of becoming his Padawan, he sat Ahsoka down and talked to her about safety and sexual health.
He assured her that he wouldn't be mad, or even disappointed, if she bypassed the Jedi's rules about sexual relationships, and the only thing that mattered to him was that she put her own safety first.
There was a sharp knock on the door that thankfully cut off his response, and Ahsoka spun around, sitting upright. Molec didn't seem surprised by the interruption, placing his glass on the table.
"Enter."
The door opened, and in walked Convor. The older Togruta didn't even glance in Ahsoka's direction, her eyes firmly set on Molec. The door closed behind her, and Ahsoka watched as she walked forwards.
"You summoned me, Master."
Molec took on a look of pure adoration, holding out his hand, "Come here, my sweet thing."
Convor looked like she had just been given candy, practically floating towards the slaver, and taking his hand gently. Molec smiled up at her, "We have a guest. Do you mind?"
Convor glanced at Ahsoka, but didn't allow anything to change in her expression as she looked back at Molec, "Of course not, Master."
"Very good, my perfect thing," he praised, and Ahsoka nearly gagged at how Convor preened from his words alone, a bright smile growing on her face. "On your knees."
Convor dropped to the ground so quickly that her knees made a horrible clack as they met the stone floor. Ahsoka saw Molec reach out to cradle her montrals, and decided it was time to turn her head away.
The woman didn't even try to protest, it was like she wanted it.
Ahsoka took deep breaths as she heard the tell-tale sound of a belt buckle coming undone.
"You're a rapist, Molec," she muttered, aware that both he and Convor would be able to hear her.
The slaver chuckled, and Ahsoka kept her face turned away.
"What do you want, Convor?" He asked, his voice light. "Do you want to leave?"
Convor didn't verbally answer, and Ahsoka soon heard Molec's breath hitch.
She stared at a painting on the wall, noticing the muted pinks and purples in the sunset. This particular artwork showed a naked Twi'lek woman feeding fruits to a Zygerrian King. It wasn't a pleasant image to look at, but it served its purpose in distracting Ahsoka.
She couldn't do much to block out the noise of Convor orally pleasuring Molec.
He began murmuring sweet nothings to the woman knelt between his legs, and Ahsoka decided to shut her eyes, keeping her face turned in the other direction.
The tone he used with the woman at his feet was the same that he used when he asked her if she was finished eating.
Ahsoka didn't want to believe that Convor genuinely felt anything for this man.
She had been manipulated into thinking that this was love, but it wasn't. As far as Ahsoka knew, love wasn't about having power over someone- it was supposed to be more of a partnership, like a team.
And yet, Convor appeared to admire the man who was using her for his own desires. She had no choice in any of this, despite having given consent.
It was so confusing.
She hated the sound of Molec panting, the chair creaking under his weight, and the undignified noises coming from Convor's throat. Ahsoka dug her fingernails into her palms as she waited for it to be over.
For the first time, Ahsoka wished that she wasn't a Jedi.
She wished she wasn't a Togruta, or even a woman.
She wished that this nightmare would end.