Hey are you ready for some tooth-rotting fluffy fluff? I’m ready for some tooth-rotting fluffy fluff! : D Does it count as dancing with the devil if the devil can’t dance?
I made a picture using the Rinmaru couple’s dollmaker of their date outfits, lol. (Had to photoshop it a little to get the colours right.) I mean, I was kind of thinking more like this in red for Ashara’s top, but close enough, right?
Date night soundtrack!! Someone put the lyrics in the comments somewhere and they’re weirdly appropriate! <3
EDIT: Ashara was weirdly okay with murder in the previous version of this chapter, so I changed that.
Part 18: Dance with the Devil in the Pale Moonlight
He found himself nervous as the time they’d set to go out drew nearer, and he had no idea why. It wasn’t logical, he’d watched all of Lightning Strikes My Heart and half a dozen other holodramas that had at least a romantic subplot, he knew what to do and how to act. And it was Ashara, who… was actually intimidating in her mysterious femininity, or feminine mysteriousness, or something, was that the problem? He knew how women in holodramas acted, he knew how Ashara acted, but he didn’t know how Ashara-as-a-woman acted. And… he… wanted things to go ‘well’, whatever that meant. He guessed it meant Ashara enjoying herself, and him successfully carrying off the role.
Sithspit, he was nervous. At least his head wasn’t hurting too badly. He scrubbed his palms on his rough black trousers, adjusted the black leather jacket over his dark red tunic, and keyed open the door of his cabin. Revel had been surprisingly helpful… once he got over his laughing fit.
Ashara was just coming out of the refresher, and he stopped dead. By the moons of Iego… If he’d never seen her as a woman before, he couldn’t help it now. She was wearing make-up, or at least something that made her face look different – glowier, smoother than normal. And a red halter top that showed about an inch of midriff, and white short-shorts, little white fingerless gloves, and gold thigh-high stockings with white boots. Her blue-and-white-striped lekku stood out brightly against all her orange skin, and he blushed deeply to see so much of her skin, his face and ears burning. It wasn’t like he’d never seen a woman’s skin before, he could see anything on the holonet, and often did whether he wanted to or not, but it was Ashara’s skin and he really wasn’t sure how to process that yet.
He was tempted to slap himself to stop himself staring, but refrained, instead dragging himself back to making eye contact and giving her as sexy a smile as he could manage. He’d been practising in the mirror, so he was pretty confident in it. “You look great.”
“You too,” she said, grinning.
He offered her his arm, even though that was probably supposed to be for more formal situations. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah, let’s.” She grabbed his hand casually and headed for the docking ramp; he nearly got dragged but managed to send a signal to his feet to start walking in time. Frak, he needed to get himself under control. Not a great start for him.
He’d reserved a booth in one of the nicer bars in the spaceport area, and they sat across from each other, dimly lit in faint gold light, with a fruity orange Fuzzy Tauntaun for her – hadn’t she had enough of Hoth for now? – and lum for him. His new false ID had stood up to scrutiny, putting him at eighteen, just over the local legal drinking age. Come to think of it, he’d never told Ashara his age, and he was pretty sure she thought he was the same age that she was, twenty-ish. He had no intentions of disabusing her of the notion until it was unavoidable.
He could change his age in his official records, there was nothing saying he couldn’t- no, this was not a night for scheming. This was a night for acting. He smiled at Ashara. “How’s your drink?”
“It’s good!” she said cheerfully. She looked like a goddess in this lighting. He probably looked like a demon. But hopefully an attractive demon, after how much the jacket had cost. “Yummy. You want to try?”
“Thanks, I’m good,” he said, and sipped his own drink. The music was kind of loud, but at least it wasn’t ear-splitting like a lot of the other bars around. “So I’ve been wondering-” he hadn’t, but whatever- “if you could go anywhere you wanted in the galaxy, where would you go?”
“Like, for work, or for fun, or…?” she squinted suspiciously at him.
“Either?” He tried another smile.
“Hmm… Well, I mean, Alderaan is pretty high on my list. I’ve seen holos! It’s gorgeous! They really value their natural beauty, and they keep their history well-recorded. And you know, I’ve heard good things about the food and the people, even if I’ve also heard the politics there are kind of crazy. What about you?”
“I went to Alderaan once,” he said casually. Be suave. “It was quite lovely, like you.” Nice.
“Aww, thanks,” she said, and giggled, blushing harder than he’d seen her blush before. So he wasn’t the only one affected by this unusual circumstance.
“I didn’t spend much time outside, regretfully. But I certainly admire their architecture.” Although whoever had built Elysium had more style than sense, in his personal belief.
“You should take me sometime!” She hesitated. “I mean, if you can. It’s got a lot of Republic leanings, it could be awkward.”
“There is a faction that’s friendly to the Empire as well. It wouldn’t be so hard to visit,” he told her. Don’t make sarcastic comments about tourists. More difficult would be finding a reason to go, probably. Especially since he was supposed to just be making meaningless small-talk that would keep her entertained and talking about herself, and he had no plans of actually going there unless it was necessary. “You enjoy trying new kinds of food, then?”
“Yeah! Lemme tell you-”
He managed to keep the conversation flowing smoothly, smiling and nodding in the right places, asking mildly flirtatious personal questions. It was more difficult than he’d anticipated; usually in the holodramas, something dramatic happened to interrupt the date after five minutes, or they did a timeskip past the ‘boring’ stuff to the kissing and/or the sex, and so he didn’t have a reference for the missing bits, but he managed. And all the while, she looked and sensed more and more confused.
At last, after her first drink, she stopped smiling and fixed him with an intense stare. “Who are you and what have you done with Murlesson?”
He blinked. What was he doing wrong? “What do you mean?”
Her forehead wrinkled in concern. “I know this isn’t you. Why are you putting on an act for me?”
“You don’t like it?” he asked, suddenly frightened again. Was she going to leave?
“I like being treated this way, but it isn’t you,” she said gently. “I wanted to hang out with you, not some holostar version of you. This other version of you is… it’s nice, but it’s…” She struggled for words, but her Force-sense spoke plainly enough. It bothered her. “It’s not you.”
“I d-don’t understand,” he stammered, all his preconceptions falling to pieces around him and leaving him in scared bewilderment. Without the façade of his ‘date’ persona, he didn’t know what to do. “I-I thought…”
She smiled at him, anxiously, reaching out to put a hand on his where it lay on the table. “It’s okay. I know we got all dressed up like normal people, and I put all this facepaint on, but we don’t have to follow other peoples’ courtship rituals. Let’s just hang out.”
He withdrew into himself, sulking a little, pulling his hand away and a knee up to his chest. And he didn’t know what to say. “Fine.”
She snorted. “Now I know that’s you. Grouch. Okay, I’m going to ask you a question. Why do you like Naga Sadow so much?”
His gaze flicked back up to her. She’d got him. “He’s only the most genius tactician to ever live, he crushed all his rivals, and he would have successfully conquered the galaxy if it hadn’t been for the betrayal of his apprentice. I mean, he managed to plant assassins in his enemy’s fleet as trusted officers, and then they hijacked the ships they were on and threw the battle at Khar Delba into complete disarray in his favour. It was brilliant! I want to do that! Or something like it, anyway!”
She made a huge grin, along with something muttered that might have been something like “oh my god you’re a huge nerd”, but he couldn’t hear it over the background noise.
He rambled on before he could be insulted. “If only he’d turned his apprentice properly before he began doing things that poisoned his apprentice against him… Or at least not given him so much power so quickly, no matter the potential he showed. His only mistake… and the mistake of many Sith Lords before and since.” He sighed, hugging his knee. “But apprentices are so useful, and it’s impossible to be in a position of invulnerability against them at all times, even when they are properly aligned.”
“Are you excusing a common mistake?” she gasped with exaggerated outrage, mocking him.
He pouted. “I’m certain he never trusted Daragon, but… with an apprentice of that power, integral to so much, how do you guarantee he won’t mess things up at any moment? There must have been a thousand things he could have interfered with that would have ruined Naga Sadow’s plans, once he decided to betray him. Yes, he should have had a better contingency in place for the inevitable, and yes, I’m disappointed that my idol did not succeed at everything he set out to do, and in fact had a rather ignominious end, if Freedon Nadd is to be believed… On the other hand, that is the cycle of Sith – to be betrayed by one’s apprentice is a long and glorious tradition.” Which he said with completely flat sarcasm.
She snorted. “Well, you should be glad I’m a Jedi, then. Even if we grow to be at odds, I don’t intend to carry on that tradition. Or at least I don’t intend to take over from you.”
“You sure?” he asked, smirking. “The years are long, if I don’t die. You could become corrupted over time. Power’s addictive.”
“Ew, no!” she cried. “I’m doing my best here, lack of guidance notwithstanding. Besides, I’d be a terrible overlord. Overlady? Lady overlord. Oh my stars, watching you work is exhausting, I don’t want to do it myself.”
He couldn’t help it. He smiled. She was hilarious.
Her face lit up. “You can smile! A real smile! Holy nerfs!”
He rolled his eyes, slightly uncomfortable. “All right, don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Okay, fine, I won’t. …Okay, so what do you think of Tulak Hord? I know Khem’s a big fan, but you haven’t given me many books on him. Do you not like him or something?”
The conversation flowed faster now, passionate, argumentative, and as nerdy as a convention of Ithorian horticulturalists, except about history. He wasn’t sure how long they talked – an hour? Two? He was no longer forcing cheesy smiles onto his face or sitting up properly, and she seemed… happy? Was this really what made her happy? She shone when she was happy. There really was no comparison. …Was that what she’d been talking about with him?
“Have you been on any real archaeological digs yet?” she asked. “Besides Hoth?”
He glared at the table. “Hoth has been it so far, and it’s very annoying. I’ve been in tombs, but it’s only been to loot them for objects of power, I haven’t had time to do more. I’ve studied real artefacts, a little, but I want to see them in context and not sterile isolation. I want to do more study than just absorb the research others have done before me, I want to discover things for myself. And then that stupid ghost demanded that I destroy everything instead of studying it. It’s good Drellik was there to help me document it first.”
“At least you’ve had that,” she said. “I love being outdoors, and I love history, but I don’t have enough training or focus to be a good archaeologist. I’m more in it for the stories, you know?”
“Lame,” he said, not really seriously.
“C’mon, all of sentient history can be boiled down to stories, unless you’re like a Verpine or something. No one really cares, otherwise.”
“The Jedi really need to branch out more.”
“The Jedi branch out a ton! I just wasn’t trying for archaeology, because I kick too much butt for that.” She bounced in her seat, flexing a little, and he snorted. She had amazing biceps, and she knew it.
“Why do Jedi even bother?” he demanded, slightly aware that he was becoming drunk and that he’d sent the conversation into a ninety-degree tailspin. “They can’t fix the entire galaxy, it’s a disgusting cesspool of sapient life using and abusing each other.”
“Yeah, but imagine if we didn’t do anything, how much worse it would be! Every little bit helps even if we can’t possibly help everyone-”
“So you’re aware of that bit, I always wondered-”
“Oh, sure, we had counselling classes on that. Y’know, young Jedi, all gung-ho to get out and make a difference in the universe, save some lives, be a hero, blah blah blah. They know we’re going to get in over our heads, to try and do too much, and that we could be swayed by pride so easily in all of it.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Exactly! I had to go to a lot of those classes because of my impulsiveness! I know I’m impulsive! But I can’t help it! It would have helped if I’d gotten to the stage where I was ready enough to have a Master, they’re supposed to lead by example and really hammer in what we’ve been taught in the enclaves with real-life experiences.”
“I’m not good enough?”
“You’re a terrible example,” she told him, smirking, and he snickered. Which made her laugh. “I mean it! I wouldn’t trust a youngling around you for ten minutes!”
“I eat younglings for breakfast,” he said. “Or uj cake, whichever’s easier to get.”
“Younglings are a sometimes food,” she scolded him, and he actually laughed. By the Force, he made a genuine laugh. From the way her eyes and her aura were sparkling at him, she noticed too.
He recovered himself, although he still felt oddly, recklessly amused. The alcohol must really be getting to him. “Er… what were we talking about?”
“Jedi? Helping people? The futility of our pointless endeavours?” she said, mocking him still. “Look, it can be depressing that we can’t help everyone… but we can’t let ourselves get depressed. We always have to keep fighting, and I don’t just mean physically, we have to keep hoping and believing, otherwise we don’t get anything done… and then the galaxy would really be screwed…”
Hoping and believing… “I can’t do that.” He dropped his head a little, feeling the melancholy wash over him again. He’d seen too much to hope.
She smiled at him gently. “That’s okay. I’ll do it for you.”
Silence dropped between them, but… for once it didn’t feel awkward. He didn’t know what to make of it. Although maybe his voice just needed a break from talking loudly over the music, and he needed another drink… although his head was starting to spin a little. At least it still wasn’t hurting badly. He’d had a few, probably enough. But…
Ashara chose that moment to bounce to her feet. “C’mon.”
“Where are we going?” he demanded, huddling away from her energy.
She leaned over to tug gently on his sleeve. “Let’s dance! There’s lots of people doing it over there, it’s a date thing, we should dance.”
“I don’t really want to.” But she pouted with those puffy pink lips, making sad brown eyes at him until he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, but just for a little bit.” More skillset development.
She grinned and took his hand, pulling him over to the crowded dance floor, right in the middle of everyone. The crowd had picked up since the start of the evening, but it was a good thing most people there weren’t paying attention – well, no, that wasn’t true, there was some attention on Ashara and her glorious physical charms, how she seemed to light up the room even if they didn’t have the Force-sensitivity to see how gorgeous she was spiritually as well.
“Okay,” she said, once she’d picked her spot. “Just groove to the music.” She couldn’t contain herself, already bobbing her head her head up and down, and her lekku tips were swaying hypnotically.
She put her arms around his neck, and he found himself suddenly gasping for breath as she stepped close to him; he put his hands uncertainly on her waist – oh gods there was that midriff gap in her clothes, he could feel the smooth skin of her waist under his palms, felt her hips shimmying in time to the beat. He couldn’t concentrate on ‘dancing’, there was a gorgeous sexually-mature Togruta writhing in his arms, her soul shimmering like a solar flare, he couldn’t breathe, his hearts were hammering, the room was spinning… She was laughing in delight, looking up into his eyes, and by all the stars and planets, he… he loved her, this was love, wasn’t it? If everything ended right now, at least he’d had this epiphany.
A little ignominious it happened in a crowded bar, though.
His control of the Force was slipping in his distraction, and he yanked it back under his grip before his aura could spill out and give away his thoughts. Could she read the fear and desire in his eyes from this distance? Did she care? She probably didn’t, or didn’t notice, she was just enjoying the dancing. She liked to move, he already knew, it was no surprise she liked dancing. And he liked to watch her.
To touch her, to be in physical contact with her while she was in graceful motion like this, it was… he didn’t have words for it. His arms carefully went more closely around her, though that brought his hands in contact with the smooth bare skin of her back, and she pressed up against him, her breasts against his chest, so close he could have kissed her without bending down- His mind was short-circuiting with brainless thoughts of ‘girl, girl, oh my gods girl‘, stuttering to a blank halt…
Suddenly it was too much, the lights and the noise and the alcohol and the confused lust, and he ducked away and bolted, sprinting through the crowd and to the back door. He slammed it open with his body weight and escaped into a grimy back alley, smokey, but cooler, darker, and much quieter. He could breathe again, and did, falling to his knees and putting his head down, gasping. His hearts were still pounding like he’d fought a rancor unarmed, his head was suddenly splitting, and… oh frak… “hurk”
Sithspawn. Why did his body have to betray him like this? Why did he have to panic? Shit, she was coming to find him, but he couldn’t get away, he was too messed up to effectively disappear…
“Murlesson?” The door creaked open, releasing a burst of throbbing noise, then closing mercifully quickly with a slight bang. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer, panting, miserable.
He felt her kneel beside him. “I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?” She put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, and she took it away again quickly.
He crawled further away from his puddle of vomit and sat up a little, huddling into himself, not daring to raise his gaze. “Why are you sorry? I screwed up.”
She was doing that feeling again, the one she insisted was ‘compassion’, not ‘pity’. “I didn’t realize it was affecting you so badly. I feel bad for dragging you out there. You said you didn’t want to, and I made you.”
“No,” he blurted out. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” she told him, folding her arms. “Anyway, I’m sorry, and I forgive you if you want to be sorry too.”
He was saved from answering by the door slamming open again violently, and three humans, a Twi’lek, and a Quarren, all male, tromping out; he recognized them from the edges of the dance crowd, they must have been watching Ashara before. They surrounded the two of them, grinning, alternating between leering at Ashara and laughing at him. Ashara rolled her eyes. “Excuse me, you’re interrupting, go away.”
“Nah, hotcakes, you should ditch this frakking loser and come with us. We can show you a good time, babyface.”
“Your boyfriend frakking sucks!” yelled another one.
“Oh my gosh-” Ashara looked up at them impatiently. “Problem: I like my boyfriend, and I don’t like you. You should get lost, like, right now, or I won’t be responsible for what happens to you. I might even take you out myself.” ‘Boyfriend?‘ squeaked the part of his brain that was still distracted by her.
There was a round of snickers, and then a rattle of blasters being drawn. “Looks pretty frakking pathetic, sitting in a puddle of his own puke. We’re not scared of a frakking alien goth poser-” One of them started to reach for Ashara, who started to wind up for a punch-
His head hurt, so much he could hardly concentrate, could hardly hear everyone else talking, but he wasn’t even angry, just done. All he did was clench his fist and the Force flung them back, slamming into the building behind them, but their blasters remained hovering in the air where they’d been a moment before. As the hooligans groaned and started to pick themselves up from the ground, he stood, pulling the loose blasters towards him, his own blaster in hand – the nice little one he’d acquired months ago from Lord Khreusis at the same time as his grandfather’s lightsaber. Not that he really needed it. “You dare!?” He snarled, baring his teeth fiercely – Ashara put a hand on his arm, pulling him back from the edge of a tantrum. “I’d just punt you over the next skyscraper, but my girlfriend doesn’t like wanton murder so I’ll give you five seconds to run.” ‘Girlfriend!‘ squealed the juvenile part of his brain before he crushed it ruthlessly.
Two of them ran as he surrounded them with the terrifying darkness of his Force, but two of the humans and the Quarren shook their heads dazedly and stood their ground. “You frakking bitch!”
“I mean, I could just shoot you,” he said, toying with his blaster as he held them back with his mind. “But I’m curious how far you’ll fly.”
“I really shouldn’t say this, but I’m curious too,” Ashara said beside him. “No, no, no, I don’t mean that. Please don’t. Don’t murder someone on our date. They’re not worth it.”
His Force-wielding hand clawed slightly. “Fine. They get off with a warning.” Eerie purple-blue light filled the alley as he zapped them, not strong enough to kill, but enough to have them writhing in screaming agony on the filthy ground, and they would be helpless for long minutes after he was gone. The back door cracked open and hastily slammed shut again. For good measure he Force-pushed them twenty metres away, sending them into a pile of trash cans. “Let’s go.” He turned to walk out of the alley, hunching into himself.
“Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer. Not really. His head ached, his throat burned, and he was so emotionally tangled up he had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, let alone how to feel it. But it wasn’t the place to talk about it.
They settled on a nearby rooftop, looking up into the darkness of the sky – the city was too bright to show any stars, but the distant hum and glow of speeder traffic was a soothing white noise instead.
“So I’m going to take it you’re not okay, given how you haven’t answered my question yet,” Ashara said. She was looking at him, but he looked off into the distance, avoiding eye contact.
He heaved a sigh. “It’s getting better. I… maybe this whole thing was a mistake.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, shifting a little closer to him, moving her hand so the edges of their fingers were touching. “I mean, I had a good time, and you did too for some of it, right?”
He stared out at the city, wondering if he dared to be vulnerable. “…I did.”
She smiled brightly. “Then it was worth it!” She grimaced to herself. “Although I still feel kind of bad about those jerks. They were jerks, but did they deserve that?”
“Of course they deserved it,” he said. “I was going to actually kill them.”
“I was just going to beat them up. I wasn’t really in danger at any point. You didn’t have to put them on the rack.”
“Well, I wanted to. And I don’t think the galaxy’s much worse off for it.”
She sighed. “Ugh, I’m conflicted. Really didn’t think I’d have to be struggling with morality on a date.”
Now that hit him in the guilt where nothing else had. Ashara was upset, the galaxy was out of balance. “…Sorry.”
“What’s done is done,” she said. “At least you let them go.”
“I shouldn’t have,” he grumbled. “I should have wiped them out. How are the Sith going to get the respect they deserve if we go around being ‘merciful’ all the time?”
“You can have a different kind of respect, by having people like you,” she said.
He snorted. “No one likes the Sith, not even the Sith.”
She chuckled, and her voice dropped shyly. “Well, I like you. Actually, I like you a lot.” And her coy body language suggested that wasn’t just platonic, but flirting.
He turned to look incredulously at her. “Are you stupid? I’m going to die. Violently.” Possibly as soon as challenging Thanaton.
She shrugged. “So am I, statistically speaking – and anyway, everyone dies eventually.”
“I’m a horrible, murderous monster, you’ve seen it.”
She put her hand over his, and now he didn’t move away. “Even monsters can be loved.”
His hearts jolted, and he turned his face away in case his blush gave something away. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you so stubborn?” she countered. “I like you. Get used to it.”
His head was spinning again, and it wasn’t from alcohol this time. Hadn’t he wanted her to like him? Didn’t he, right now, desperately wish for her to like him a lot? Hadn’t he just realized that he loved her and wanted to hope that his feelings might be returned even though he believed in ‘hope’ even less than ‘love’? “Ugh, fine.”
He felt her smile.
They stopped outside his cabin; Drellik, Revel, and Khem were all elsewhere. Possibly on purpose. Probably enjoying their own shore leave. And the ship droid was nowhere in sight, thank frak.
“Thanks for a great evening,” she said, with a brilliant smile. “It was nice to get out and do something different for a bit.”
“Yes,” he said, a bit lamely.
Her gaze flickered down to his mouth for the briefest of moments. “You want to do one more date ritual?”
He swallowed hard, hearts pounding.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to-” she began.
He leaned forward, almost involuntarily, his gaze inadvertently glued to her full pink lips, and she noticed and her eyes got very large for a moment before she started to lean forward too. Excruciatingly slowly, yet terrifyingly quickly, the gap between them shrank. It was good for him that he was a few centimetres taller than her… She was so close, her eyes closing, he could feel her breath on his face, the heat from her body.
Their noses bumped gently, his lips brushed against hers, and he was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was very good at stealing his air.
Force, he wanted more, and his hands came up to carefully frame her face, pulling her back for a slightly longer, deeper kiss. Her hands slid up to rest on his shoulders. His fingers brushed against her lekku and she shivered, so he did it again and she inhaled and pressed closer against him. Oh, he wanted more of that, and put his arms about her, hesitating only a moment before moving in for another kiss, inexperienced, clumsy, and passionate, and she responded likewise.
He scarcely knew what he was doing, vaguely aware that he’d pinned her against the door without any memory of getting there, her whole body plastered against him, her hands running through his hair and across his horns, keeping him close. Her fingers brushed against the scars on the back of his neck, caressing, accepting. She was moaning softly into his mouth, and he echoed her involuntarily. He wasn’t sure how he ended up being so dominant, but even though he was taller and spiritually overpowered, she was physically stronger; if she didn’t like what he was doing, she could knock him right over, so she must have liked what he was doing.
He had to pull away. He wanted more, even more, and yet it was enough for now. He was going to lose his mind and he needed that. “You… are… overwhelming.” His voice was hoarse, tight from lack of air.
Her eyes were shining, her cheeks blushing, chest heaving as she fought for air. “Th-thanks. Y-you’re really good at this.”
“You’re so kriffing hot,” was all he could think to say.
“You’re kriffing hot,” she said, and kissed him again.
If they didn’t stop soon, he was actually going to turn into a lobotomized zombie; his brain was going to melt. He didn’t want to stop, wanted to keep going almost more than anything else he’d ever wanted in his whole life. Gods, her breath, her skin… His whole body was crying out for her.
He pulled his face away again. “We should stop.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to argue, but then she sighed and relented, relaxing in his arms. “You’re probably right. As usual. I kinda want to keep going, but…”
His brain might be mush, but it was good his sarcasm was ingrained deeper than his brain. “What a naughty Jedi you are.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and he zoned in on it. “Shut up, I already know you don’t care.” She paused. “Er… if we’re stopping, mind letting me up?”
He blinked and stepped back, releasing her. The air was suddenly cold without her, and he could feel… his cold black soul was colder without her bright warm one near-intertwined with him. The feeling of loss was so great he almost threw himself at her again, just to hold her, to not feel so suddenly alone.
He didn’t move. This was how he’d always felt and never known the difference before.
The space between them was awkward, neither of them knowing how to conclude things.
Ashara inhaled, smiled at him, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Have a good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You too,” he said dumbly, and hurried inside his cabin before something else stupid happened.
He wasn’t going to sleep, but he changed from the casual clothes to his sleeping robe anyway and hurled himself fervently into his pillow nest, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. It was… a lot to process. Things had gone… okay, although that was mostly due to Ashara being determined to be happy with whatever came up. With her attitude, he could have screwed up a lot worse and still been okay. So in some ways, the experiment was successful.
And it was at least partially successful in other ways, too. The only reason she’d balked at his charming persona was because she knew his normal self already – and liked his normal self better, for whatever preposterous reason. If he needed to get information out of a stranger under these circumstances, he could probably do it successfully.
But other things had happened, things he hadn’t expected. These feelings he felt for her… it couldn’t be love. He didn’t believe in love. Love didn’t exist, not the way people wanted to believe it did. Rehanna Rist and Nomar Organa had shown him that much. He wasn’t even worried that Ashara would do something like Nomar Organa and change her mind about him. Even though on second thought, she might… Actually, she probably would, and he wouldn’t be surprised when she did. So it still wasn’t worth worrying about. But anyway, it just… people didn’t maintain undying loyalty and devotion to each other unconditionally. There was always something that could bend or break their bond. Surely all he felt for Ashara was the affection of something approaching friendship, mixed with a heaping dose of lust. To be sure, she did have fantastic breasts, so it wasn’t like he was completely unjustified…
And yet why did adrenaline jolt through him at the thought of her smile? Why did his soul feel lighter at the touch of hers? Why did he want to please her and make her happy, even against his judgement? To wish her to stay by his side – even to flip the scales, to choose to stay by her side, as long as she’d have him?
He had no answers, and it bothered him.
He didn’t sleep.
She was giggly around him in the days afterward, as they travelled the rest of the way to Dromund Kaas, and a little bit clingy, spending even more time in his cabin than normal, coming into physical contact with him more than normal, and… he didn’t stop her. He welcomed it. Even if she was a bit distracting when he had to focus on preparing for his big showdown, it was… nice, to have her around, draping herself over the back of his chair, hugging his arm randomly, stroking his hair. They didn’t go as far as they had on the night of the date, but sometimes she would come plop herself in his lap and kiss him, and he had no choice but to respond, breathless and – for him – completely starry-eyed.
Revel was obviously holding himself back from teasing them relentlessly, but he couldn’t hold back all the snark. Drellik was cheerfully supportive, and quite discreet. “A real gentleman,” Ashara said, one time. Zash was smugly amused, and Khem hated the whole thing.
“Are we dating, like, for real?” she said the day after, flopped on his bed while he worked.
“Are Jedi allowed?” he asked, turning his chair to to raise an eyebrow at her. Seemed like that was the more important question to start with.
“Um, well…” She squirmed. “I feel like no? I’ve been meditating on it, but I haven’t come up with an answer yet. But… well, it’s complicated. Supposedly, we’re not allowed, but Jedi actually do fall in love all the time.” She lowered her voice, like she was about to tell him some big secret no one was supposed to know. “I heard even Satele Shan had a kid, which means she must have been in love.”
He gave her a flat look. “I don’t care if Satele Shan had a kid. The rules of your order must not be very good if no one can follow them.”
“Better than the rules of the Sith, where no one is supposed to follow them,” she said, sticking out her tongue at him.
“False, that means the Sith are better. Do you want to do this logically, or not?”
She looked intrigued. “What do you suggest?”
“What’s the Jedi Code again?”
“There is no emotion, there is peace,” she said. “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”
He thought about that a bit. “There’s not a lot to go on for relationships there. Relationships are emotion. Romantic relationships are passion. The only way I could see to interpret it is if it would cause some worse form of emotion or passion to not be in a relationship.”
She perked up. “Oh! That makes sense.” Then she faded again. “But it sounds like the ‘lesser of two evils’ argument, which isn’t really what I want to be thinking about when I’m with you. I just want to be with you.”
He shrugged. “Well, I tried to fix it for you. I don’t actually care. I’m allowed to date you. And I’m sensing you want to date me. The insanity of that statement aside, I’d be slightly put out if you decided you didn’t want to do what we both want to happen.”
She laughed at him. “Then I’m your girlfriend, if you want me.”
“You doubt yourself?” he asked incredulously.
She looked away, pouting in perplexity. “Well, you’re some kinda hyper-intelligent… clever… history buff, and I’m… well, I feel kinda dumb in comparison.”
“You are not,” he said emphatically. “You’re strong and funny and beautiful. I’m… fascinated by you. You’re predictable, as a Jedi… and completely unpredictable, as Ashara.”
“Gosh,” she said, expression melting into a grin, “it’s like you like me or something.”
He gave her a sarcastic look. “I’d kiss you, but then I’d have to get up.”
She laughed out loud, which made him grin a little in response, and hopped up, taking two long steps to him and seating herself squarely in his lap. He froze, suddenly very aware of his breath and pulse, one arm going slowly around her waist, the other rising to touch her face.
She took his hand before it touched her face, frowning at his palm. “What happened here?”
It was his right palm, covered in faded circular burn marks. “I do most of my blaster blocking with that hand.” Not all; he had several on the other palm as well.
“You’re normally supposed to use a lightsaber. I thought I felt scars yesterday.”
“But it causes much greater fear and awe to block lasers with my bare – gloved – hands,” he said, taking his hand from hers and resting it on her cheek where he’d been aiming all along. “Besides, it’s fine, because kolto.” She still looked sad, and he could sense incoming protests. “Don’t tell me to stop. I’m not going to.”
“It’s not good for you,” she said in a whisper. “You already carry so many scars. When will you let yourself heal?”
He snorted a little bitterly, but changed his sarcastic answer at the last moment. “…Later.”
She sighed, managed to smile, and leaned in, lacing her fingers through his hair.
He was still blown away by her lips, how soft they were, how unfamiliar and addicting feelings washed over him and through him. His arm tightened unconsciously around her waist; he was helpless under her touch, yearning, hungry for something that he still wasn’t sure what it was, still half in denial that he was able to feel this way.
Was there something in life beyond plotting for power? Was there something in life more than revenge and darkness and pain? Was it possible that someday… he could… live?