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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Saga - Legends Tale As Old As Time (L/M, AU) Update 5/10/16

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by aleja2, Jun 1, 2014.

  1. Jedi_Liz

    Jedi_Liz Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 24, 2000
    Love all the lyric references (be our guest, grey stuff). Looking forward to more!
     
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  2. ginchy

    ginchy Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 25, 2005
    Uh oh. Luke's about to stir up a hornet's nest. I love the way you followed him through the day and showed what he was going through. He's not meant to be a solitary creature (or a HERMIT, ahem ;) ) so I love how you showed that. I can't wait for the next update when we, and Luke, may catch a glimpse of the Beast?
     
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  3. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    Update list: AzureAngel2 - and yeah, K'gworth and Looma especially wish Luke hadn't missed dinner.

    Nyota's Heart - you didn't jinx it! Work, on the other hand...

    Demendora - yeah, Luke is kinda predictable at times...in a good way!

    Jedi Liz - I'd forgotten "try the grey stuff" until I was recently at Disneyland and they are selling dessert plates with that phrase on it! So I had to include it.

    ginchy - The Beast is in the next update! Promise! (and no hermit!Luke, you hear me, JJ?)




    K’gworth balled his hands into fists. The Azure Dining Room was, to put it bluntly, a disaster. For one, it was no longer azure, but brown and green and red and berry colored.

    “You!” He whirled around and pointed at Looma, standing behind him. “It is all your fault!”

    Looma threw up his hands. “My fault? I beg to disagree. I did not throw the plates or overturn the table.”

    “You! You, you, you….Gaullian!” K’gworth sputtered. Then he stopped. His head was growing dangerously hot. If he wasn’t careful, he would blow his top and then there would be two of them out of commission. He quickly ran a biofeedback exercise designed to calm his inner workings. “You,” he said in a softer voice, “did not roust our guest for dinner. And now look what happened!”

    Looma shrugged. “’umans, they need to sleep, no? And they need to eat. There will be another dinner, I 'ave no doubt.”

    K’gworth swept his gaze around the destroyed room once more. “I thought the boy was a bad idea. After that idiot Gaston, why risk another horrible incident? And the boy was safe in the dungeons, you know. The Mistress never goes into the dungeons.”

    Looma opened his mouth to speak, an indignant look on his face.

    K’gworth cut him off with a shake of his head. “But you were right to try. It’s getting worse,” he said quietly, indicating the smashed dishes and the food dripping down the walls. “Soon there will be no humanity left in the Mistress. And when that is gone..."

    Looma’s shoulders fell, and his expression lost its usual good humor. “I know, mon ami. I know.”

    They stood together for a moment in silence, K’gworth aware that Looma’s thoughts were as darkly anxious as his own.

    But they weren’t devoid of all hope yet. Time to dwell on the dreary future when – if – it arrived. K’gworth clapped his hands together. “All right then, no need to borrow more trouble than we need to right this very minute. Get the mop and pail.”

    “Mop and pail? Moi?” Looma crossed his arms and looked down on K’gworth from his considerably taller height.

    “Well, Pottz ain’t about to do it. Get moving!” K’gworth made a shooing motion.

    “So activate a White Worker!” Looma exclaimed. “They ‘ave nothing better to do! Besides, 'worker,' it is in their name!"

    “I don’t want to hear any more lip out of you,” K’gworth said. He put his balled fists on his hips. “Or shall I inform the Mistress that you are refusing your duties?”

    Looma’s golden skin took on a sickly pallor. “Now, now, no need to be so ‘asty.” He shuddered.

    K’gworth decided to take pity on him. “Oh, fine, I’ll get the mop and pail. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable with the feather duster?”

    The sudden grin that lit Looma’s face made K’gworth smile. But only for the moment.

    They had work to do. And it looked like they might be doomed to do it forever, if the boy wasn't the one.

    * * *


    Luke coughed and held back a sneeze. The dust was everywhere. It settled in his nose and his throat and his lungs. The rest of the castle was impeccably clean, but it was obvious no one used the North Tower stairs.

    Well, no one but the Beast. He could feel the dark side here, pressing at him, the tendrils seeking to invade and destroy his inner peace. He took a deep, steadying breath to center himself – and almost choked on the grit in the air.

    The tower went up and up, the stairs a dizzying spiral that looped ever higher. Every so often, a small window would allow in moonlight, giving Luke enough illumination by which to navigate. Still, he was thankful he had the Force as a sixth sense to help guide his feet on the worn, narrow steps.

    Just as his legs began to protest they could climb no more, he spotted an old, wooden door on the landing above him. It stood halfway open, a cold, flicking blue light spilling from it.

    Moving as silently as he could, hiding his presence in the Force as Master Yoda had taught him, Luke crept up the remaining flight and behind the door. Hidden by its width, he slowly peeked around the edge.

    At first, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. This was how the Beast lived? When there was a castle of unimaginable luxury below this tower, just there begging to be inhabited?

    A pallet for a bed, scarcely more than a half-stuffed straw mattress placed on hard, unyielding floor. The Beast’s cloak hung on a hook on the wall next to it. No other decoration – not even a chair, or a mirror, or a painting to break up the bleak monotony.

    He recognized the deep score marks on the walls, dozens and dozens of them, as the work of a lightsaber blade. It looked as if the Beast tried to duel with the very stones and lost, every time. No wonder, he thought, that the castle had been built with some sort of lightsaber-resistant material. If it hadn’t, this tower room would have long crumbled thanks to all those cuts.

    At one time the room had window hangings, but they were mere tatters. Again, no doubt thanks to a lightsaber. He could just see, across the room, an open door that seemed to lead to a balcony, if the night stars he spotted was any indication.

    He swept his gaze to the left. There was the source of the blue glow that threw a deathly pallor over the room. A state of the art communications array. It looked much more advanced than the one they’d had on Hoth, and he knew that Mon Motha had been very, very proud of it.

    Of the Beast, there was no sign.

    Nor did he spot his own lightsaber. Not that he expected to find it just laying around, of course.

    He stepped into the room—

    --and his blood froze. Then boiled.

    A foot, there, in the shadow. A small, pale foot. Clad in a slipper of purple and pink.

    And another foot. Also clad in purple and pink. But lying at an impossible angle to its mate.

    Pottz.

    Bile rose in his throat.

    The Beast killed Pottz. Cut her down, cut her into pieces.

    Why? Just for helping him and his friends escape? But the Beast still had him! Made a deal for him! Why did she need to punish Pottz?

    Give into anger feel the aggression let the hate flow

    He took a step forward. He could end this, right now. Find the Beast. Take the Beast’s life. Take it as ruthlessly and in as much as cold blood as the Beast apparently took Pottz’s. Rip out the Beast’s heart. Watch the light fade from those feral yellow eyes.

    Give into anger feel the aggression let the hate flow

    He stopped.

    No.

    He would not do it the Beast's way.

    With a concentrated effort, he forced out the whispers seeking to occupy his mind.

    He had to get out of there. He would bring the Beast to justice. But he couldn't do it by himself. Not without his lightsaber. Not without Leia and Han and Chewie providing backup.

    He’d go to Woolvertown, alert the local law enforcement. Surely there were some decent people in that little town who would care about the senseless death of an innocent.

    He ran down the North Tower stairs, though the main floor of the castle, and out the main door. Promise or no promise, he could no longer stay there.

     
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  4. Jedi_Lover

    Jedi_Lover Chosen One star 5

    Registered:
    Nov 1, 2004
    What?! Luke is going to get backup?! Usually in the SW universe you foolishly run into danger blindly. It is more exciting that way. :p Nice update.
     
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  5. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    :eek: Pottz! Glad Luke is going for backup. Going it alone may be more 'exciting' but it also looks overconfident and stupid most of the time. :p [face_thinking]
     
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  6. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    That is unexpected, but well he is somewhat of a jedi and those like to act in a group, while sith like to achieve things on their own & are ridden with wrong pride in most cases.
     
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  7. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    Jedi_Lover: well, um, yeah, you're right. [face_laugh] But hopefully there is excitement in this installment. We'll see!
    Nyota's Heart: A pet peeve of mine is what my friends and I call TSTL characters: Too Stupid To Live. But Luke is also highly impulsive at this time in his life, so...we'll see if I can get him right. I've never written Luke at this age before - it's fun!
    AzureAngel2: Yeah, what you said, we'll pretend that was my intent all along... [face_laugh]


    The moon shone bright as Luke loped across the clearing that surrounded the castle. But the illumination abruptly cut off as he plunged into the dark forest. He hoped he was on the path he had traveled with Jingles just a few days before. It was hard to tell, as the branches high overhead swallowed nearly all light. Meanwhile, the thick vegetation underneath his boots muffled sound. Only the harsh sound of his breathing reached his ears.

    He’d forgotten how eerie the forest could be. For a heartbeat, he second-guessed his decision. Perhaps he should face the Beast alone. The more time the Beast remained free, the more time the Beast had to kill additional innocents. After all, Luke had no guarantee he would find help or even a sympathetic ear in Woolvertown.

    But he tried to rescue Han, Leia and Chewie by himself, and look what it got him: a lifelong stay – or however long the Beast wanted to hold him – at Castle Spooky.

    And he ran headlong and brain-free into the situation on Bespin, hadn’t he, to disastrous results. The Beasts found Master Yoda, because of him. Master Yoda died, because of him. The Jedi were extinguished.

    Because of him.

    He had a duty to make sure this particular Beast was brought to justice. Crimes must be answered. Deaths needed to be avenged. He thought of poor Pottz, with her large lavender eyes and small, delicate hands. Pottz wouldn't have had a chance, once the Beast turned on her. She must have broken like so much kiln-fired crockery under the Beast’s dark side-fueled power.

    Luke squared his shoulders and marched on, his strides long and sure.

    He heard a howl, off to his right. He stopped, stood still. He heard it again, a canine-like baying. The sound hurt his ears at the high end of the scale, but chilled his blood with its low, almost inaudible rumble.

    He picked up his pace.

    Another howl. Then another. This time coming from his left.

    He looked around on the forest floor for a weapon, any weapon. He found a stick, long with a jagged point on one end. It would have to do. He reached out with the Force—

    Nothing.

    Those strange Force-absent bubbles were back.

    He continued on the path, faster now, moving at a jog.

    The howls stopped. He relaxed his grip on the stick. He slowed down to a walk.

    Then: a chorus of shrill cries. Ahead of him.

    He stopped.

    More cries. A high-pitched keening, that chilled his soul with its almost supernatural sound. Coming from the path behind him.

    He swung his stick in a circle, holding it as if it were a lightsaber.

    The cries stopped, as if by a sudden unheard command.

    Slowly, from the darkness of the trees, even darker shadows started to emerge.

    Canines. Large canines. Heads as big as the silver platters carried to his room by Looma. Strong, powerful shoulders. Muscular haunches. Eyes, glowing red in the near darkness.

    They circled on silent padded paws. He could smell them now, a mixture of heavy musk and dead carrion.

    Luke froze. Most predators on Tatooine were triggered by motion. If he stood still, perhaps they would go—

    A canine leapt. Claws, at least ten centimeters long, slashed at Luke’s shoulders.

    He turned and ducked.The canine missed, landing on Luke's other side.It snarled, sharp teeth flashing in the low light.Then it began to yip, a staccato, shrieking bark.The rest of the pack joined in, the chorus almost supernatural in its wailing harmony.

    Luke shifted, tentatively moving one foot in front of the other. If he could just get out of the range of the bubble he was in, find the Force –

    A heavy weight dropped him from behind. He hit the ground, hard. His breath was knocked loose, his head bounced on a rock in the path. Stunned, he couldn’t move, even if he wanted to. Sharp claws pinned him down. Hot, damp breath, stinking of fear and dead things, washed over him. He shut his eyes. Any second now, knife-blade teeth would descend on his throat and—

    The weight lifted. The thick, needle-like claws were gone. He shook his head, his vision blurred from the collision with the rock. Through ringing ears, he thought he heard a canine yelp of hurt, surprise. Then another. He tested his hands, feet. They moved when he told them to. He ached all over, but he was alive. Somehow.

    Through the canine whines and yips, he heard a familiar...humming? A lightsaber?

    He rolled over, struggling to regain his breath.

    Above him stood the Beast. Black cloak swirling, red-violet lightsaber flashing, cutting down one canine after another. The predators kept coming.

    Luke slowly got to his hands and knees. His foot brushed something--what--a blaster? He stared. Han’s blaster! The one he lost when the Beast tore it from his grip. Luke got to his feet. He picked off the canine leaping for the Beast’s blind side.

    He moved closer to the Beast, shooting off the attacking animals as best he could in the dim light, until he stood back to back with the cloaked figure. The lightsaber thrust, turned, cleaved the canines. Luke fired, bolt after bolt.

    “To your left!” the Beast spat out. “The Alpha! They won’t stop attacking until the Alpha leaves or dies!”

    Luke cut his gaze in that direction, but could only see the dark leaves of trees and even darker trunks densely packed together. He fired a bolt in that direction. It disappeared into the darkness. No answering yelp of pain came.

    He fired again. And again. And again. The bolts didn’t seem to hit anything.

    He fired—

    The blaster jammed.

    The Beast growled, an expression of inarticulate rage. The area around them was covered by fallen members of the pack, but three canines still stood on the left shoulder of the path. Their hackles stood straight up. Sharp teeth were bared in a rictus grin.

    “Stay back, farmer,” the Beast commanded, holding the red-violet lightsaber crossways.

    The first canine leaped, went down. Then the second. The third tensed his muscles, appeared ready to spring--

    A howl like nothing Luke had ever heard before came from the forest.

    The ground moved under his feet, a steady rhythmic thumping.

    He heard the Beast take a large gulp of breath.

    A blur of light and dark shadow, three times the size of the other canines, burst from the darkness at the edge of the path. It headed straight for the lightsaber held in the Beast's hand.

    The remaining canine followed, attacking the Beast from the other side.

    Desperate, Luke tried the blaster once more. It fired. The bolt went wide, wild. He heard a thump, as if something fell from a tree. He squeezed the trigger again. The resulting recoil stung his hand, made him drop the weapon. Jammed, this time for good.

    The Beast whirled, twisted, tried to evade and defend. The cloak fell open. Something glinted at the Beast’s waist. Something cylindrical, hanging. Something like...his lightsaber.

    Luke automatically reached out with the Force –

    -- and called his weapon to him, just as the Beast went down under the weight of the Alpha.

    Somehow, the Force-absent bubble was gone.

    His lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss. For the smallest fraction of a split-second, he thought about letting the Beast die. An appropriate death, the Beast killed by the claws and teeth of a wild beast. He could easily let it happen.

    But he wouldn’t.

    Letting the Beast die would be revenge, but nothing more. It wouldn’t bring back Master Yoda. It wouldn’t bring back Pottz.

    Luke struck. The Alpha crouching over the Beast toppled and fell, dead. The last remaining canine got up and disappeared into the trees.

    The Beast lay face down in the path, the cloak spilling around the still figure like a pool of black ink. The violet-red lightsaber had switched off, the hilt lying next to the Beast's slender right hand. Luke shut down his own lightsaber and crouched down. He gently reached out a hand, pulled back the hood.

    He almost fell over with shock.

    A…girl.

    This fearsome Beast, hated throughout the galaxy as one of Palpatine’s most deadly agents, was a…girl.

    And not a very old one. About his age, give or take a year or so.

    The Beast's eerie yellow eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids, making her seem, well, even more like a normal girl. The fitful light filtering through the trees revealed sharply winged eyebrows and long, curly eyelashes resting on pale cheeks. A dusting of darker spots – freckles, no doubt – decorated the bridge of her narrow nose. Her full lips were parted.


    She still breathed. His stomach did a flip of relief.

    But she was wounded. The black cloak hid any sign of blood, but he could feel the stickiness on his hands. And - he reached behind him - on his back. He had his own, more minor, injuries to tend.

    A howl sounded. It came from a far distance, but still. They had to get out of the forest. Now he knew why the residents stayed in their houses at night.

    He picked up the Beast, cradling her against his chest. He expected to struggle with her weight once he reached the boundary of a Force-absent bubble, but she remained light in his arms. The lifts in her boots and the bulk of her cloak made her appear much larger than she really was. In reality, she was slight. Her long limbs and slender torso reminded him more of the Imperial Court dancers he'd seen in vids than the muscle-bound bare knuckle fighters he always thought the Beasts would be.

    He continued to carry her out of the forest and across the clearing, until they reached the main entrance of the castle.
     
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  8. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Perfect unveiling of the beast by Luke's quick moves and compassion. =D= Luke is intrigued and the beast is on the way to being liberated. @};-
     
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  9. ginchy

    ginchy Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 25, 2005
    I am enchanted! I love the action of this scene and how the Beast called him 'farmer'. I love him taking back his saber to fight off the wolves, and of course, I lov the first sight of the Beast. There was no way Luke could have left her. You are weaving a wonderful spell here and I can't wait for more!!!!
     
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  10. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    * beams and beams and beams

    He picked up the Beast, cradling her against his chest. He expected to struggle with her weight once he reached the boundary of a Force-absent bubble, but she remained light in his arms. The lifts in her boots and the bulk of her cloak made her appear much larger than she really was. In reality, she was slight. Her long limbs and slender torso reminded him more of the Imperial Court dancers he'd seen in vids than the muscle-bound bare knuckle fighters he always thought the Beasts would be.

    He continued to carry her out of the forest and across the clearing, until they reached the main entrance of the castle.


    Mara will survive in fanfic. Disney cannot kill her off. Neither can GL! [face_love]
     
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  11. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    Nyota's Heart, ginchy, @AzureAngel2 - thank you so much for reading and commenting! And yes, Mara will survive, always :)


    Chapter Seven

    K’gworth slammed a cupboard door in the Carmine Pantry and opened another. “Glowrods, glowrods, now where in the names of all gods are the glowrods?” He slammed that door shut as well.

    “Looking for these?” Looma held a glowrod in each hand. A small headglow was positioned in the middle of his forehead.

    “Give me that!” K’gworth grabbed one out of Looma’s hand. “How do you always find them so fast?”

    Looma shrugged. “It is my gift.”

    K’gworth rolled his eyes. “Never mind, what matters most is that we have them. Let’s go.” He marched out of the Pantry. When he realized that Looma was not at his heels, he turned. “Well? What’s keeping you?”

    Looma shifted his weight from side to side, his gaze focused on the mosaic pattern in the floor tile. “I really did think, this boy, ‘e was the one.”

    K’gworth’s gaze softened. “Yes, well, you weren’t the only one who hoped things might be different this time. But no doubt she’s found him by now. Come along. And bring the shovel.”

    “The shovel? Moi?” Looma hurried to catch up.

    K’gworth drowned out the litany of complaints coming from behind him. He marched to the imposing front door and, throwing all his weight into it, managed to wrench it open--

    --only to drop the glowrod at his feet. It shattered, sharp pieces flying everywhere, but he didn’t notice. He stared at the man outlined in the open doorway.

    “You?” he croaked. “But…” His gaze fell to the bundle of dark cloth and pale limbs clasped to the man’s chest. “Mistress?” he gasped. “Is she…but how…I don’t understand…”

    “Get out of 'is way!” Looma instructed, and K’gworth felt himself being tugged backward on feet that no longer obeyed him.

    This wasn’t possible. Nothing defeated the Mistress. Nothing.

    Well, except HIM. But they hadn’t received word from HIM since the Boy’s arrival.

    “She needs help,” the Boy said, and he pushed past K’gworth and Looma. His strides were long and hurried as he headed for the main staircase and the bedrooms above.

    K’gworth glanced at Looma. The Gaulian’s gaze was as stunned as his own. But a small smile played at the corners of Looma’s mouth. “So it seems that things, they are different this time after all, no?”

    “But she’s obviously incapacitated, you nitwit! That’s different all right, but it’s not good! What happens to us if she dies without fulfilling the prophecy?” K’gworth finally got his legs to work and he ran after the Boy.

    Looma was hot on his heels, his smile wiped clean.

    * * *

    Luke climbed the stairs as fast as he could, using the Force to keep the woman cradled against him free from jostling. He could see the slow rise and fall of her chest. But her eyes remained tightly closed and she remained limp in his arms.

    He ran down the hallway to his bedroom, not knowing where else to go. From behind him, he heard K’gworth’s heavy footsteps struggling to keep up with him. “The North Tower!” K’gworth gasped. “She must go to the North Tower!”

    Luke didn’t deign to stop or turn around. “I am not putting her in that hellish shambles of a room,” he said, his throat tight. He reached the bedroom assigned to him and gently lowered his arms, placing his bundle on the bed stomach down so as not to further inflame the wounds on her back.

    Her face was turned to him. It was so, so white, the sprinkling of freckles across her narrow nose standing out in vivid relief. Luke’s heart clenched. He knew she was responsible for terrible deeds, deeds for which she must answer. Yet she saved him out in the forest, when she could have left him to die. Why, he did not know.

    But now it was his turn to save her life. If he could.

    “She lives?” K’gworth asked, a tremor in his voice.

    “Yes,” Luke answered. “But she’s badly hurt. The Alpha jumped her.” He sat down beside her and began to remove her boots. “We need hot water, bandages. Any bacta you might have.” He wished he had paid attention to Aunt Beru when she spoke about medicines. On the other hand, knowing how to care for a third degree sunburn or how to heal skin flayed by a Category Five sandstorm wouldn't be of much use right now.

    K’gworth nodded and left the room, his weighty stride making the floor vibrate. Luke returned his attention to the girl on the bed. The hood was down and her hair spread around her like a cloud at sunset, shining red-gold in the light of the room’s lamp. He undid the fastener of her cloak, drew it away from her slender neck. But how to best remove her garments without injuring her further?

    “Here, let me,” a soft, high-pitched voice said at Luke’s elbow. Luke turned and almost fell off the bed when he saw who was there.

    “Pottz! You’re…you’re…not…you’re not…” he stammered.

    Pottz cocked her head, her purple and pink tresses falling into her eyes. “I’m not what, Boy?”

    “Dead,” he said simply. He blinked his eyes several times. She was still there.

    “Well, of course I’m not! That would be ridiculous,” she said briskly. “Now, are you going to sit there or help me? Poor Mistress,” she crooned to the girl on the bed, tenderly lifting one arm, then the other, free from the massive black cloak and tossing it away. She produced a knife from a pocket in her white dress and began cutting away the dark tunic the Beast wore underneath.

    “But…but…I saw you,” Luke said. “In the North Tower. You were…in pieces.”

    Pottz stopped her ministrations and raised an eyebrow at him. “Snooping, were you? That’s not very polite, Boy."

    “Luke,” he said, his irritation rising. It was one thing when Han called him “Kid,” and even that had its limits. It was another to have these strange people make him feel like he was ten years old, teased for having no parents, excluded from the others’ jokes and games.

    Pottz returned to her task. "As you prefer,” she said. “Snooping is not very luke.”

    “No,” he said with a short laugh, shaking his head. “Luke is my name. Not 'Boy.'"

    Pottz tsked. “But you are a boy." She looked up at him, her brow creased. "Are you not? We need a boy.”

    Luke shook his head again, this time in confusion. “I’m male, yes, but my name is Lu—“ He stopped, his breath caught by the sight before him.

    Pottz had finished removing the girl’s garments from her upper torso. He could see now the multiple deep slashes caused by the Alpha’s claws, red and raw and crusted with blood both old and new.

    But she had other scars. Dozens of them. Some silvered with age, others pink and recent.

    “What the…” He swallowed the rest of his words, his mouth and throat dry. He couldn’t imagine what – or who - could have created those marks. Or how much pain their infliction had caused.

    Pottz caught his gaze. “Yes, she’s had worse. We just need to make sure the poison from the claws doesn’t spread.” She looked behind him and her face lit up. “Ah! Here comes K’gworth with the water and the bacta.”

    “Poison?” Why did he always feel like he was five steps behind and three days late in this castle? Which reminded him: "I saw you in pieces. How can you be alive?”

    Pottz took the hot water from K’gworth and sent him away for more. “What a silly question,” she said, dipping a cloth into the basin. “Here,” and she handed the cloth to Luke, “clean her wounds. Careful, now.”

    Luke did as he was bid, wincing as he wiped away blood to reveal the damage. The lacerations left by the Alpha’s claws were horrifying enough, but the skin around them was beginning to turn a deep, angry scarlet. Pottz looked over his shoulder and sighed. “Not good. Well, we’ll just have to see and wait.” She applied bacta patches to the cleaned areas.

    The Beast stirred. “Shhh,” Luke soothed automatically, dabbing carefully with his cloth. The bumps of her spine and the sharp bones of her shoulders were clearly visible beneath the fair but scarred skin.

    A soft whimper came from her lips. His hand moved of its volition to stroke red-gold curls off her damp forehead. With her strange yellow eyes hidden behind closed eyelids, she really was quite pretty. Her high cheekbones helped frame an oval face, her lips full and pink, her chin a tad long but pleasingly pointed. The smattering of freckles only emphasized her complexion’s smooth perfection.

    She was just a girl, really. A slight, slender girl.

    She was also one of Palpatine’s Beasts, the rational part of his brain reminded him. The gimer stick shards shimmered in his memory.

    He tore his gaze away from her face and continued to bathe the slashes on her back.

    The Beast moved again, causing him to jerk his hand away. She uttered a low moan.

    “Mistress?” Pottz darted to the Beast’s side and knelt down so that she would be on eye level with the injured woman.

    Luke caught a glimpse of yellow, a small sliver of golden light between thick eyelashes. “Pottz?” the Beast whispered. “You…okay?”

    Pottz grinned at her. “Right as rain. Looma found the last missing part in an old supply box.”

    A ghost of smile passed over the Beast’s face, turning into a grimace. “Good for Looma…” Her eye closed again.

    Pottz put the last of the bacta patches on. “There now. Sleep, Mistress.” She looked up at Luke. “All that’s left now is to wait.”

    “That’s all we’ve ever had,” K’gworth said from the shadowy corner where he had taken up sentinel duty. “Time. We used to have too much. Now I fear we don’t have enough.”

    Luke’s patience was at an end. How could Pottz be alive? What caused the scars on the Beast? And why did they persist in calling him Boy?

    He turned to Pottz. She blurred before his eyes. He blinked, and she came back into focus. “I want some answers,” he tried to say. Only it came out,“I want shome anschewrs.”

    Pottz glanced at K’gworth with a raised eyebrow. K’gworth shrugged. “He told Looma he wasn’t a sot, but I have my suspicions.”

    “Not a shmot!” Luke insisted. Although the objects in the room did seem to be whirling around him. On the other hand, he hadn’t had any alcohol since that bottle of Whyren’s Reserve Han snuck into the barracks on Hoth, so he doubted that was the root of the problem. He sat down on the floor next to the bed and put his head in his hands, hoping that would stop the floor and ceiling from tilting further.

    “Boy?” Luke blinked up as Looma entered the room. Or at least Luke thought it was Looma. It was hard to tell, what with the three heads and six arms.

    “I ‘ave made up a new room for you—“ Looma stopped, and turned to the others. “Sacre bleu!” he exclaimed. “Did you not see ‘e was also wounded?”

    Wounded, Luke thought, his brain running thick and sludge-like. Yes, that’s right, one of the smaller canines got him. In the worry over the Beast, he’d almost completely forgotten. But now he could feel the burning pain radiating down his back, creeping through his nerves, seeping into his veins.

    What had Pottz said earlier? Poison?

    Surely there was a Force technique for dealing with poison.

    If only Yoda or Ben had taught it to him.

    He closed his eyes. The room stopped spinning.

    Blackness swallowed him.
     
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  12. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    oops, double post!
     
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  13. ginchy

    ginchy Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 25, 2005
    Eep poor 'Boy'! He had just enough adrenaline to keep him upright for a bit--and the poision--now that's a scary thought. Poor Mara, with all the scars. :( I think Luke's going to be more than 5 steps and 3 days behind once he comes to. Excellent, as always!!
     
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  14. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    I to am eagerly awaiting answers, and forgot Luke was wonded also. :p His fascination and concentration on Mara was too distracting. [face_love]
     
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  15. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    ginchy: Yep, still behind. But he should start catching up soon!

    Nyota's Heart: answers coming coon for everyone!

    PM: AzureAngel2

    Luke awoke with a start and a gasp, his lungs gasping for air as if he had been trapped inside a dust storm vortex without a breathing aid. His mouth was as arid as the dry season on Tatooine during year thirteen of the Great Drought, and his stomach rumbled like the Falcon with a faulty power converter. He tried to flex his arm, but it was heavy and stiff as if it hasn’t been used in days.

    “Finally awake, are we?” a voice hissed.

    He opened his eyes.

    The morning light peeking through the half-drawn curtains revealed the Beast, sitting in a large overstuffed armchair at the foot of his bed. Her usual cloak was discarded in favor of a simple but well-cut black tunic and matching form-fitting trousers. The sun’s rays lit her hair, generating vivid sparks of red and gold, and picked out the freckles dashed across her nose. If it weren’t for the eerie yellow gaze glaring daggers at him – and the lightsaber she held firm in her hand - he’d believe her to be even prettier than he originally thought.

    He smiled at seeing her, apparently healthy and none the worse for her wounds. He couldn’t help it. “You’re out of bed,” he said. “How do you feel?”

    She rose to her feet in one graceful movement. With a snap-hiss, her red-violet blade ignited. She stalked to the side of his bed, the lightsaber coming to a stop just centimeters from his throat. “I told you that if you broke your promise, the penalty would be death. So tell me,” she snarled, “why I shouldn’t kill you right here and now.”

    Luke blinked up at her, his brain still struggling to catch up. “I didn’t run away,” he pointed out. “I’m right here.”

    The lightsaber moved closer. Burning ozone filled his nose. “Only because I came after you,” the Beast sneered.

    Luke scooted back and sat up, hoping to put more distance between him and the glowing blade. It was only then he noticed, once again, he had been put to bed without any nightclothes to wear. He tucked the sheet tighter around his waist. “But you were injured,” he said, keeping an cautious eye on the weapon. “I could’ve left you there and kept going.”

    He reached out with a Force nudge to turn the blade away. It worked, but only for a second. The Beast’s gaze narrowed. The lightsaber shook in her grip as she fought to regain control.

    “Tricks? I have my own,” she growled, and Luke felt invisible fingers circle his throat. He split his concentration in the Force, managed to reduce their grip to a slight pressure.

    “No more tricks,” he finally managed to choke out. “I promise.” He let go of the saber, and she did the same with his throat. He swallowed, and rubbed the sore area. He stared deep into the angry gold depths of her gaze, trying not to flinch. To his surprise, she looked away first and lowered the weapon, shutting it off.

    “Why did you come back?” she asked, her breathing a bit ragged. It seemed they were well matched in the Force.

    “I had to carry you,” he said with a shrug. “You couldn’t return to the castle on your own, after all. And you needed immediate help.”

    “But if you left me in the forest, I would have died,” the Beast said.

    “Yes, you would have,” he said simply. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

    “Yet my death would have freed you,” she said. “Why save me?” She stared at him, the steadily burning rage in her yellow gaze starting to dissipate.

    He sat up straighter. “We are all connected in the Force,” he said. “Every being deserves a chance to live.”

    “Even a Beast?” she rasped softly.

    “Even a Beast,” he replied.

    Their gazes met, held. Her mind was thickly shielded, but a frown creased her pale forehead.

    “Besides,” Luke offered, “you saved my life first. So it was only fair I saved yours.” He smiled at her again, broader this time.

    The confusion cleared from her face. “Do not mistake my actions in the forest for compassion, farmer.” Her words were so cold, they made Hoth feel like Dagobah by comparison. “You swore to stay here. I was only collecting what was mine.”

    Luke’s smile faded. “Fine,” he said evenly. “Whatever your reason, I still thank you.” A thought hit him and he reached behind, tried to find the wounds on his back left by the canine’s claws. No bandages. All he felt were thin ridges where the marks had been, healed over and painless to the touch. He glanced up at her. “I don’t understand. I was hurt, too.”

    The Beast raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A healing trance,” she said, her tone implying he should have known the obvious.

    Luke stopped twisting his head, trying to see behind him. “A what?”

    She scoffed. “I put you in a healing trance. Surely you would have put yourself in one if you had been able. But you appeared to be more susceptible to the poison.”

    “I – no. I didn’t know such a thing was possible.” He reached behind him again. Amazing. Much better than bacta.

    Her gaze narrowed. “You don't -- are you trying another trick, lies this time? It won't work. I know you were trained by traitorous Jedi. My Master says--" She pressed her lips closed and tossed her head, red-gold locks tumbling across her shoulders

    “Your Master?” As soon as he uttered the words he realized to whom she was referring. Of course. Palpatine. He crossed his arms over his bare chest.

    Her generous mouth twisted into a smirk. “Yes. My Master. I can hear his call from wherever he is in the galaxy, no matter the distance.” He didn't need the Force to read the pride radiating from her. She leaned closer to him until he could see the crimson embers deep in her golden eyes. “He will be here. Soon.”

    So that was the plan: keep him here until he could be handed over to the Emperor. A cold chill traveled down his healed back. Perhaps the Beast was right. Perhaps he would have been better off if he had left her in the forest to die.

    On the other hand, he’d probably be dead, too, thanks to those...what did she call them? Wolvskrs?

    “And just how soon is soon?” Luke heard himself asking.

    She looked away, but not before he caught the thinning of her lips. “Soon enough,” she spat out.

    Ah. She didn’t know. And she was not happy about it. But then, he wondered if she was ever happy about anything.

    Well. If he had to face Palpatine, he might as well make the most of his remaining time to prepare. And that meant practicing what he had been taught, by any means possible. He would show the Emperor that the Jedi were not fully extinguished. As long as Luke had breath in his body, the Jedi yet lived.

    He swung his legs to get out of bed—

    -- and at the last second remembered he wasn’t wearing anything.

    Face red, he scrambled back under the covers.

    The Beast kept her head averted, but her lower lip was caught between her teeth. “Since you are obviously awake and recovered from your wounds, I will send Looma to attend you,” she said without a backwards look, and she stalked her way to the door. When she reached it, she spun to face him. “You will be present for dinner.” It was not phrased as a request.

    “Do I have a choice?” Luke deadpanned.

    “You could sleep though it again. But I don’t advise it,” she said, a dangerous smirk on her lips. She left the room.

    He lay back against the pillows. Suddenly, dinner seemed very far away. Too far away,

    Of course, he hadn’t eaten in days, which might have something to do with his anticipation.

    Still, it couldn’t come soon enough.
     
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  16. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    Liked the contest of wills and wits. :) Anticipation huh? ;) Yuppers, Luke is snared. [face_laugh] I think the Beast is too, but she will have a harder time admitting it.
     
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  17. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    “Yet my death would have freed you,” she said. “Why save me?” She stared at him, the steadily burning anger in her yellow gaze starting to dissipate.

    He sat up straighter. “We are all connected in the Force,” he said. “Every being deserves a chance to live.”

    “Even a Beast?” she rasped softly.

    “Even a Beast,” he replied.

    That was a wonderful moment. @};-

    Also liked the scene when Luke got out of bed.
     
  18. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    Nyota's Heart - I think the Beast is coming around... ;) Thanks so much for commenting - it's so appreciated!

    AzureAngel2 (love your Darth Vader figure in your avatar!) - thank you so much!


    The Beast paced in her small tower room. Fifteen long steps and she reached the high window that overlooked the forest, thin wisps of smoke rising from Woolvertown chimneys barely visible in the distance. She turned and strode back the other direction, toward the rough-hewn walls that still bore the deep score marks from her lightsaber training as a child. She didn’t need to see the forest. It was a reminder that, for all the power and authority conferred on her by her Master, she was just as much a prisoner in the castle as the farmer in the Ochre Bedroom.

    It was also a reminder that the farmer chose to save her life – at the expense of his own freedom.

    She tossed her mane of red-gold curls. It was none of her concern how the foolish boy chose to spend his last remaining days. If it had been up to her, he would still be rotting in the dungeons deep below. But no, Pottz had to go and let him and his companions out.

    She conveniently refused to acknowledge that she could have ordered K’gworth to return the boy to his dank cell, but she never did.

    The toes of her boots hit the uneven stone where the floor met the wall. She turned around, headed back the other way.

    He saved her.

    She understood why he would sacrifice his liberty for his friends. But for her? She, whose only value – she tensed her back automatically, the pain inflicted by her Master and his designated helpers whenever she failed a task an ever present memory - lay in her ability to carry out the Emperor's justice with quick, fatal precision?

    The boy's actions did not make sense. It was not how the galaxy worked. Her Master ruled over the star systems with a gentle but firm hand. When bad people took advantage of his benevolence, he weighed their deeds. If the deeds were terrible enough, then she or another Beast delivered the final blow.

    This boy…this farmer…committed one of the worst acts possible. He destroyed the Stellar Peace, a space station so mighty and indestructible it had been ironically nicknamed the “Death Star” by envious military personnel who grumbled that someone would have to die before a coveted assignment on board would open up.

    They all died. Because of him. One proton torpedo in a thermal exhaust port and blink! A million lives extinguished.

    Included in that tally was the mightiest life of them all: the Lord of the Beasts. The Emperor’s favorite. He was last seen in his starfighter, chasing the boy’s decrepit vessel in the trenches of the Stellar Peace. Then flame and gasses and the mighty vacuum of space turned it all into so much cold, desolate dust.

    Some whispered the Lord of the Beasts might yet live. They said his starfighter spun away, escaping the fire and concussive winds, spiraling out of control into an uncharted sector. Lacking comms and perhaps even his memory, he was still out there. Somewhere.

    She wasn’t sure if she believed the rumors. The Lord of the Beasts had powers that far surpassed her own. Surely he would have made his presence known by now? But even if the Emperor’s favorite survived, the wanton annihilation of the Stellar Peace’s crew was more than enough to condemn the boy. His crimes were so severe, her Master wished to face the boy personally.

    She glanced at her comm unit, but it remained stubbornly silent. As was his voice in her mind. Her Master hadn’t contacted her since she first informed him she had his quarry in hand. She knew the construction of the second Stellar Peace kept his thoughts occupied, but surely he would want to deal with the boy sooner rather later?

    He saved her. The Killer of the Peace – and yet he saved her.

    A farmer. A mass murderer. A boy. Not much older than her.

    And he had powers, like her. But different. Whenever she called on her powers, she sensed a hovering dark shadow, its edges wrapping tighter and tighter around her. When he used his, it was as if an invisible sun lit him from within.

    The contradictions between what she had been told about the boy and the behavior she’d witnessed made her head hurt. She picked up a piece of fruit left over from her lunch and threw it at the wall. It hit the stone with a loud squelch, juice and pulp and skin spattering all over.

    Its destruction should have made her feel better. She liked to tear things apart. She was a Beast. That was what she did. What she was created to do.

    Instead, it made her feel worse.

    A chime sounded, and K’gworth’s voice came from her comlink. “Mistress?”

    She whirled around and punched on the hologram projector. “What?” she spat out.

    His image jumped back, his eyes as wide as she had ever seen them. “Dinner is ready?” It came out as a question.

    She sighed. No use taking it out on K’gworth. He made a terrible sparring partner. He was wound so tight, it took her days to get him back to functioning properly again.

    “Is the farmer gracing us with his presence this time?” Her tone was as cold as she could make it. But her heart beat just a little bit faster.

    “Looma is bringing him, yes,” K’gworth said.

    Her hand came up to smooth her curls before she could realize what she was doing. She put it down rapidly and crossed her arms over her chest instead. “Fine,” she said, her chin in the air. “But he better be seated at the table when I arrive.” She shut down the comlink projector and left her tower room. And if she skipped down the steps in an unseemly haste to make it to the dining room, well, no one was around to see it.
     
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  19. ginchy

    ginchy Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 25, 2005
    So much good stuff in this update. I love Mara's chaotic thoughts. And how differently Luke feels using the Force than her (and her Master). I love how you've fitted everything together from SW to the fairy tale. And I love the image of Mara, the Beast, skipping down the steps in unseemly haste after having checked her hair. It's all so perfect. I love this fic!! I notice that I didn't respond on the last chapter (bad ginchy!!). Could you tag me when you update, please??
     
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  20. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    I love Mara's reflections and the contrast between how it feels when she taps her powers/the Force versus when Luke does. She is still confounded by Luke's saving her it seems. Tickled completely by her unconsciously smoothing those lovely curls of hers - that I've always compared to a sunset. [face_love]
     
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  21. AzureAngel2

    AzureAngel2 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jun 14, 2005
    The boy's actions did not make sense. It was not how the galaxy worked. Her Master ruled over the star systems with a gentle but firm hand. When bad people took advantage of his benevolence, he weighed their deeds. If the deeds were terrible enough, then she or another Beast delivered the final blow.

    This boy…this farmer…committed one of the worst acts possible. He destroyed the Stellar Peace, a space station so mighty and indestructible it had been ironically nicknamed the “Death Star” by envious military personnel who grumbled that someone would have to die before a coveted assignment on board would open up.


    I also loved Mara´s reflections a lot. Without her it never would have occurred me that Luke is a sort of mass murderer. But he true is like a little sun, with this light lit from within. :D

    And your beastly title for Vader made me laugh.
     
  22. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    :D on the 'little sun' reference. [face_love]
     
  23. Jedi_Liz

    Jedi_Liz Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 24, 2000
    like Nyota's Heart, I liked the way the beast described how Luke used "his powers" and she used hers and the feelings that were different between the two uses - like the sun and like a dark shadow
     
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  24. aleja2

    aleja2 Jedi Master star 2

    Registered:
    Aug 4, 2005
    AzureAngel2 - I'm glad you liked my beastly title and it made you laugh!
    ginchy - I so appreciate your kind words!
    Jedi_Liz - thanks so much for reading and commenting!


    Dinner was pleasant enough, Luke thought, once he got over the shock of being served by stormtroopers wearing protective smocks over their white armor. No, not stormtroopers, he reminded himself – White Workers. Still, there was something very off putting about looking at those blank, black eyes and asking for the salt to be passed. He kept reaching for the hilt of his lightsaber, only to be reminded that, once again, it was in the Beast’s possession.

    The food was excellent, as always. “In times of stress, fine dining is suggested,” Looma had said as he guided Luke to his chair. “A dinner here is never second best. Enjoy.” But Luke noted that Looma, Pottz and K’gworth did not sit down at the table to partake. Instead, they stood along the wall with the White Workers who weren’t currently pressed into service.

    The Beast…ah, the Beast. She sat the head of the long, polished wood table, some six meters distant from Luke, who sat at the foot. She kept her gaze focused on the plate in front of her, although at odd intervals she raised her head to glare at him, her forehead sharply creased. He tried to smile at her, but it only made her glare intensify. When he ventured a few remarks about the weather, she shot him a look so cold and deadly, the remaining words died in his throat. But she didn’t eat much, her fork mostly pushing her food around and around. That must be how she stayed so slim despite eating like this every day, Luke thought wryly. He, on the other hand, was going to resemble a Hutt before too long.

    Finally, the parade of dishes slowed. “That was excellent,” he said. “Thank you.”

    The Beast sniffed, a derisive sound. She didn’t look at him.

    Looma and Pottz exchanged anxious glances. K’gworth looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

    Luke shrugged. Well. She had demanded his presence at dinner; he was there. He had to eat, after all. But he couldn’t figure out why she required him to be there if she wasn’t going to acknowledge him. Was it just to prove she had the power to order him around? Fine. She made her point. But the meal was now over and his obligation at an end.

    He pushed back his chair from the table and got up to leave. “I’m going to return to my room.” He didn’t know where else to go. The castle was dark and empty and echoing, especially at night. In his room, he’d discovered one of the bedposts was loose and easily removed. He would practice his katas with it, until such time when he could retrieve his lightsaber. “Good night.”

    The Beast’s head snapped up, her golden eyes burning. “I did not say you could go.”

    “You didn’t say one word all dinner,” Luke pointed out. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to make his exit.

    A plate smashed into the wall next to the door, just barely missing his right ear. Cloudberry jam left a sticky trail as it oozed down the azure striped wallpaper. “You don’t have permission to leave,” the Beast snarled from behind him.

    He whirled around, not at all amused. Cloudberry jam was expensive, at least on Tatooine. And they certainly didn’t serve it in Rebel Alliance mess halls. Her display of temper wasted at least a month’s income. “You missed.”

    She scoffed, rising from her chair and taking several steps toward him. “Hardly. I never miss. Try to leave, and you’ll find out just how accurate I am.” A large, shallow bowl levitated off the table and turned slowly. Luke noted it was filled to the brim with ootoowergs. And ootoowergs, although delicious, were rather slimy and tended to leave bright green stains on clothing.

    He shook his head. “Not going to happen,” he said, and reached out with the Force. The bowl hung in midair, vibrating as he struggled to wrest control from the Beast.

    Zut alors,” he heard Looma whisper. “And we just finished cleaning the dining room after the last mess, too.”

    “If I may,” K’gworth said, his normal rumble several octaves higher. “I believe some entertainment is called for?” He clapped his hands in front of him, and several White Workers left the room. “Looma, if you please?’’

    “But of course!” Looma waved his arms, and the three chandeliers overhead dimmed, the light in the room reduced from midday sun bright to shadows at dusk dark. Luke blinked at the sudden change, his focus momentarily lost. Without his Force resistance pushing against the Beast’s mental grip, the bowl spun wildly. It shot through the air, flinging its contents far and wide across the room.

    Ootoowergs dripped down Luke’s hair and neck, causing his skin to crawl. The vegetables were even slimier cold than when served hot. And smellier.

    A loud gasp of shock made him look up. The Beast had ootoowerg spattered across her pale face. Bright green spots bloomed on the chest of her black tunic. Her expression was so indignant and outraged, he did the only thing he could do in the situation.

    He laughed.

    Her head came up sharply, her eyebrows knitted tightly together. “You! This is all your…” She raised her right hand into the air. The slender fingers pointed. At him.

    Pottz’s gasp was all the warning Luke needed. He ducked the plate of baked dru’un slices in fish sauce. But he never saw the blubberbird egg salad, flying free of its dish. It hit him square in the face.

    The Beast took one look and snickered.

    Luke’s fists clenched. All this perfectly good food wasted! And for what? To amuse a spoiled girl of a Beast? He wiped the salad from his eyes, the creamy dressing dripping down his cheeks and off his nose.

    The Beast snickered even harder.

    Funny thing, though, he noticed. The cold, dark shadow that seemed to hover around her like a permanent cloud had lifted, just a little. He smiled to himself. Fine. Might as well practice some of his training. It wasn’t as if this food could be given to someone who needed it. He used the bottom of his tunic to mop the last of the salad from his cheeks, and grinned back at her.

    And then he used the Force to levitate the massive platter of nerf steaks in green fire sauce from its place of honor in the center of the table.

    Pottz hid her face with her hands, but kept her fingers parted so she could still see out. Looma stood so still, he seemed as if he had been turned into a waxwork. K’gworth just chanted, “Oh dear oh dear oh dear,” under his breath.

    The Beast stopped snickering. Her gaze widened.

    Luke kept the platter in the air. It lazily swooped from side to side at his command. He could feel her reach out, try to get a Force grip of her own on the dish, but he kept it just out of her grasp. She slowly backed up, keeping the massive table between them. He steadily advanced on her position. The platter glided beside him, sauce occasionally sloshing over its sides.

    “Stay where you are.” The Beast folded her arms across her chest, her chin lifted high. Ootoowerg still dotted her cheeks. “Put that down.”

    “Or what?” Luke asked with a smirk. He sauntered toward her. With a wave of his hand, the platter of nerf steaks rose higher into the air. It tilted it, just a little. The Beast snatched her hand away at the last second. The green fire sauce splashed on the table instead.

    She said nothing, her bright golden glaze glaring daggers at him. But her hand moved. A giant bowl of mashed tubers swimming in blue butter rose from the table and floated in front of her. She inched her way toward the door, the table still between them.

    “Tubers?” he scoffed, moving to cut her off from the other direction before she could make an escape. “I grew up on Tatooine. Tubers are nothing compared to some of the stuff I’ve had to eat.”

    She rolled her eyes at him, but kept her Force grip steady on the bowl. “Not one step closer. I’m warning you, farmer.”

    “Now, now!” K’gworth stepped between them, his moustache twitching. “We were having such a nice evening. The musicians will be here any minute. Shall we return to our seats, have a little dessert, perhaps? Mmm, pastry!” He rubbed his stomach, his hands trembling.

    A slow, dangerous smile curved the Beast’s lips. “What do you say, farmer? Care for some dessert?” Her gaze sparkled, and for a brief split second Luke thought her eyes appeared green instead of a burning yellow.

    Luke shook his head. “Not in the mood for pastry. I still prefer nerf steaks.” He nudged the platter with the Force, causing the bottom of the dish to skim the top of her red gold curls.

    She gasped and jumped back. The bowl of tubers rose above Luke’s head and tilted, threatening to turn upside down. “Don’t play games you can’t w—“

    She never finished the sentence. Her foot skidded on the puddle of cloudberry jam collecting on the polished wood floor near the door. She slipped, struggled to regain her balance. The bowl slipped as well, its contents falling.

    Luke automatically jumped to catch her. The tubers missed him, but K’worth was not so lucky. Fluffy bits of mash rained down from the upturned dish on his head. He sputtered, his moustache dripping with blue butter.

    Luke tried to grab the Beast’s arm to keep her upright. His boots encountered spilled, slimy ootoowerg. He slid, feet first, right into the Beast. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

    Two White Workers came into the room, carrying a chidinkalu and a slitherhorn. They stopped when they encountered Luke and the Beast, sprawled at their feet. The platter of nerf steaks that crashed down on them turned their spotless white armor into a spattered, smelly, green and brown mess. The musical instruments clattered to the ground, useless.

    For a moment, all was silent. Then Looma cleared his throat. “It would seem music is out, but I could tell jokes, no?” Looma said. “Or do some tricks?”

    Pottz giggled, but it was a brief, nervous outburst that soon ended.

    Luke blinked, trying to regain his equilibrium. The Beast’s right leg was caught between the two of his, and his left hand…he snatched it away, not knowing where to look as he felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He struggled to his feet.

    The Beast pulled herself into sitting position. Her tunic was covered with all sorts of spills, her trousers much the same. She lifted her hand to push her hair out of her face but stopped when she realized her curls were sticking to her cloudberry jam-covered fingers.

    Luke held his breath. Would the Beast erupt into another display of hot anger? Maybe even Force Lightning?

    She lifted her head. Her gaze narrowed.

    And she laughed. It rang loud and clear, like the Toydarian clan bells he’d heard on Tatooine. “The expression on your faces!” she said when she could catch her breath. “And look at poor K’gworth! And my White Workers!” She grabbed her sides, her laughter continuing.

    Luke exchanged glances with K’gworth, Pottz and Looma. They shrugged at him, their gazes wide and wondering. Then he extended a hand to the Beast. Much to his surprise, she took it and allowed him to pull her upright. Her fingers, although sticky, were warm and surprisingly delicate in his. He let go only when she pulled her hand free.

    “I don’t know why we have so much food at these meals,” she said, her laughter fading but a smile remaining on her face. “Having another human to feed must have thrown the White Workers off. I’ll look into their programming tomorrow.” She tried to brush various foodstuffs off her clothes, but gave up when she seemed to realize she was only making things worse.

    Luke thought he’d never seen the Beast look lovelier. Her cheeks were flushed, her red-gold hair wild and tossed free about her shoulders. The tense attitude – the sense that she would spring like a predator at the slightest provocation – was gone, her shoulders relaxed and her back no longer ramrod straight.

    She looked up and caught his gaze. “You missed a some,” he said, pointing to the spot on his own face.

    She raised her hand, but took it down before she could smear a jam trail across her skin. “Nice attempt, farmer,” she said, but her words were free of any malice.

    He grinned back at her, his gaze locking onto those yellow orbs of hers. “No, really, you do.” Before he knew what he was doing, he had reached out to gently wipe the ootoowerg from her pointed chin.

    She jerked back from his touch. A shutter seemed to slam down, her face losing all animation. Her now ootoowerg-free chin rose high into the air, the imperious attitude back as if it had never left. “You have my permission to leave after this ridiculous display of yours. Dinner is over.” She turned on her heels and moved toward the door.

    Luke stood where she left him, his hand still hovering in mid-air. He had acted on instinct when he touched her. A desire to be helpful, nothing more. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Still, when he looked into her eyes…

    There might be something there that wasn't there before.
     
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  25. WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

    WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Aug 31, 2004
    aleja2 -- [face_laugh] [face_laugh] [face_laugh] at the food fight and yay! for the lightening of the Beast's oppressive mantle of darkness. It was reassumed at the end but I don't think it's as impenetrable as before. ;) Luke is definitely feeling a spark of something-something. [face_mischief]

    =D=

    [:D]
     
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