Part of Me

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

One day after the events in Valley of Humiliation (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22060)



Twenty four hours had passed. Twenty four agonizing hours of stinging pain and the knowledge that the scars from Generis would never be erased. Twenty four hours that - at the same time - had been rife with the emotions of triumph and victory. And yet still, the vanity remained damaged and no longer untouched. It had been violated and abused, scorched beyond repair.

No longer did her master have the distinction of possessing one of the only two marks upon her body, and though that fact might matter little to him, it angered her to a degree that was near inconsolable.

The ugly slash across her sternum, the trail of a healing yet very noticeable scar along the underside of her right arm, and - worst of all - the still raw redness of the cross shaped brand on her lower back that meant the everlasting mark of The Faith.

All courtesy of Sol Iman and his accursed 'holy' relics.

She knew that by now it was a foregone conclusion, that she bear the marks of the battle on Generis. But it still sat ill with her conscious that her body was marked with more than simply her House Brand.

The mark of an Apex Lupine was one of simplicity, of a mark that had nothing more to it than what it was, and yet the marks she now bore were so much more than her House would allow. So much more than what an Apex would be permitted.

And in the contemplation of that thought, as she glared angrily at herself in the mirror, Loklorien s'Ilancy gave a huff, an unsatisfied breath through her nostrils as she glared at herself. She was now unworthy, despite the trophy that now lay on her Master's desk. Despite all that she had endured. She was sullied, marked beyond desire in her thoughts.

And with an impatient motion, the Lupine swept the countertop clear in a fit of rage, sending fragrance bottles and the like clattering to the tiled flooring.

She was undesirable. She was marked beyond what her status called for.

She was scarred beyond what her Master might find desirable.

In the reflection of the mirror, she scowled. It was unacceptable, what she saw in her own eyes, and as she heard the door to hers and Dan's quarters open and close, her expression turned into a deeper scowl than ever possible. He would send her away. Despite her victory and triumph, he would find her unfit.

She glared angrily at herself in the mirror despite the footsteps that brought her master ever closer.

[General Dan]

He heard her in the refresher, but he moved to his desk, retrieving the cyllinder that had been placed there. With a careful inspection, he turned it over in his hand.

"Sol Iman?"

The faintest of smiles. The plan they had carefully set into place was beginning to bear fruit. They could no longer move in the shadows. Their hand was visible.

"Is he dead?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His voice carried over her own internal rages, and s'Il abandoned the fresher, moving to stand in the doorway of their room. Her dark glare was settled on the saber hilt that Dan held in his hands.

"You would not hold his blade if he was still living," she answered simply, bitterness lacing every word.

[General Dan]

The force itself betrayed no certainty in the link he shared with the item in his possession. What she said could very well be true, or it may not be. It didn't matter.

"I suppose not."

A small smile, and he returned the trophy to his desk, and turned to face her.

"And you are yet alive. To survive another day and see the task to completion. I never doubted your success."

Something stirred in her, something feral and furious. He was curious of it.

"Was it as you expected?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"All that happened did so as it was meant to."

And yet the words were nearly ground out, as though it had been a difficult revelation to accept. Her face gave a soured expression, and the Lupine turned her eye from his gaze, a sense of self-loathing weighing upon her shoulders.

"What I suffer now is the price of your will and desire. Do not concern yourself with my well-being."

She moved from the doorway to step out into the main room.

"I live, and I will continue to do so long after your enemies are sent to their deaths."

[General Dan]

"Don't be foolish. There is aggression, but there is also being needlessly reckless. I won't have you thrown away like some common attack dog. You insult us both by insinuating it."

He looked at her wounds suffered, suddenly understanding that the real damage inflicted was to her vanity.

"You think this diminishes you in my eyes?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I bear marks that are unnecessary. They mar the flesh beyond what is wished."

She stopped beside him, reaching out to grasp Sol's saber in her hand and heft it in a white-knuckled grip. Her free hand moved up to pass carefully over the still-tender wound along her chest as she passed a sideways look to her Master.

"That which transpired cannot be undone.

"I accept that."

[General Dan]

He wouldn't dwell on that any longer.

"My spies have informed me of another loose end that needs to be cut."

He wanted her sharp, focused, and put to task. It was what made her powerful.

"The agent Byl Laprovik still lives."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She frowned somewhat, and with deliberate slowness replaced the hilt back onto his desk.

"He is a husk. An empty vessel. What importance is he to you."

[General Dan]

"None."

He dismissed the agent's importance the same as she did.

"It's curious that he lives, is all. I had thought you had ended him. He's proven unnaturally resilient."

Of course, he very much doubted that his resilience was entirely of Laprovik's own design.

"It's possible that Alliance Intelligence could use him to gain insight into our plans. I expect them to use him to get to you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The look that she cast his way was one that held the barest traces of impatient frustration, but also the first hints of physical discomfort. She pulled in a long breath, eyes closing to push away the feeling.

"The man is nothing but an empty shell. If you are so intent on ending his pathetic existence, then send some of your own agents after him."

She half-turned to face him more fully as her eyes opened once more.

"... unless you have already done so?"

[General Dan]

"I have."

He made a wry face.

"Again, he has a knack for surviving. It's no matter. I expect Alliance Intelligence to use him soon, is all. If they do, be ready."

He again picked up the saber.

"They can't possibly know how far along we are. Their subtle attempts arrive two steps too late. With you isolating Jedi away from the herd so to speak, and your agent sowing discord within..."

He smiled.

"The Jedi aren't immune from paranoia or from fear. They will overreach, and the more they look for the dagger in their back, the more they fall from a thousand cuts. Soon, we have to end this in one sure stroke. I'm waiting for that moment."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I'm sure that you are."

A part of her was repulsed at this notion that her Master set her to another task so soon after her return from Generis. In fact, it had been less than three hours from the time she'd stepped foot once more on the hangar deck of the Dauntless. The last twenty-one hours had been a pain-filled miasma of finding the resolve to get back to her shuttle, and at the same time tend to the ugly - and infuriatingly permanent - scars she now wore. She felt sullied, unclean. It had not escaped her frenzied state of mind that her gauntlet was no longer upon her arm, and thought she'd clutched Sol's own saber close to her, she knew that her own would be lost for all time. She'd angrily come to terms with that fact half-way through her trip back.

Yet another link to her past, now swallowed by the Dark. Swallowed by the swirling, endless maelstrom of purpose that her Master had set her to. His will, his wants and needs. They demanded nothing more than a creature created in his own image; a creature that was torn from the past utterly and completely and set to a new path.

She was Darth Acera, apprentice to Darth Decepis.

The Scribe's Apprentice.

Moving away from him, the Lupine cast a lingering, sidelong look to him as her exhausted steps took her from his side. She soon enough set her sights to the comfort offered by one of two nerf-hide chairs sitting across from the sofa, and with the utmost care she lowered herself into its' embracing confines.

She was tired, and had not slept for longer than she would care to admit.

"Your will is mine," she intoned, the fatigue showing in her voice.

Cautiously the Lupine leaned back, baring her teeth in a hissed breath as the still tender cross burned into her back was rested against the chair's backing. Her arms were limp on the armrests, as if the energy to simply sit had taxed her to her breaking point.

It did not help, the lingering waves of nausea that swept over her, but she attributed them to her own body working to heal itself.

"I am tired," she finally admitted while in the same motion letting her head fall slowly back.

[General Dan]

"You've earned the right to be."

Dan nodded in carefully administered respect.

"Rest. You've made yourself powerful, and what you've seen and learned will serve to make you even more powerful."

He could feel the conflict in her desires and the ties that held her back. Her cloying sentimentality was both a crutch and also a means of her control.

"Think how close you are to the end, Loklorien. To the closing of this chapter. Push the enemy to their last stand, and one final thrust of the blade. And then..."

He smiled.

"...rest like you can't imagine. Rest without worry. Rest without fear of what the next day brings."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With closed eyes, the Lupine gave the barest of nods.

"I understand," she whispered as slumber threatened her ability to remain awake and aware.

The dull pain that spread across her body and merged with the sting of her silver burn began to fade.

"So close... "

Everything was set away and to the side as her body succumbed.

And into the darkness of sleep she fell, her subconscious taking her from the physical world and sheltering her in the black embrace of a peace that had been promised. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing deepening as she fell further into the welcoming comfort of fulfilled exhaustion.

[Darth Decepis]

He fell upon her like a wolf on a slumbering sheep. Invaded her mind.

The scars of her memories told a freshly-burned tale of her duel on Generis. He watched her toil and rage against her enemy, drawing on every ounce of her reserve. If she was to waver in her resolve, it would have been here.

And she held firm.

The phantasm sneaking in her mind peered farther, going beyond the mind, beyond...to...

...what was this?


A Child.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Everything was at peace, her body, spirit, and mind. She felt nothing, and was aware of even less. The welcoming arms of slumber held her so tightly, and she in turn accepted. She felt sapped of strength completely, and as she slept on in the chair she'd so carefully sat in, her mind relished the rest that it so desperately craved.

[Darth Decepis]

Not a child.

Two.

Children.

The phantasm invading Loklorien s'Ilancy drew back but for a moment, memories fresh of the trappings of the prophecy that she'd communed with him that showed the path to his eventual destruction. It began with the birth of twins. Twins weak of purpose who were unworthy of his great vision.

The phantasm schemed and raged against this. He would live forever! The prophesy held no dominion over him! Through the gossamer binds the dark side drew him to her and the two lives living within. He could feel the beginnings of life. The promise of future and of purpose.

Like her, like Loklorien, they were his. Their destinies, his dominion. He would decide.

Two faint lights of light, so fleeting and small.

And then there was only one.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Hours passed, and she still slept on, the toll of her injuries great as her body eagerly devoured the rest she now allowed it.

And yet, through the heavy curtains of slumber she felt periodical twinges of the burning pain that was so unique to silver wounds. Each muted sting pulled her farther from her subconscious until the waking world demanded her attention, and the Lupine gave a light groan.

One eye cracked open.

Hands were upon her, gentle in their ministrations as they worked over the welt on her chest. Dan's face, partially downturned as he smoothed balm over the burn, came into focus.

"My Master is kind," came her whispered words, hoarse and somewhat slurred from deep sleep.

[General Dan]

"His kindness is earned many times over."

He brushed the back of a hand against her cheek, drawing it so that he swept aside an errant lock of her hair.

"I watch you sleep and envy the rest that takes you. You seem to travel to a distant place each and every time.

How do you feel?"

He knew the answer. He could see it on her face. Waking would bring old aches to the forefront.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a silence as she considered his words. Considered the meaning of them and even the simple fact that he had inquired over her wellbeing. It had become a foreign and alien thing, and the Lupine felt somewhat at a loss. The compassion he now showed to her was in stark contrast to how the two had come to interact with one another, and was a glaring reminder of how their relationship had transformed. For a moment she was transported back to those times, before he had revealed himself, when they were simply husband and wife. It was a time that she had clung to for a long while after his true self came to light, and a time that she had eventually abandoned. More than their bonds of matrimony was something that overtook; devouring and consuming those bonds to regurgitate them into some else.

The Master and the Apprentice. The teacher and the student. She carried out his wishes and did so by any means necessary, even if it meant harm to herself.

He had done well to push her emotions into a more fitting channel, and though each satisfied the others desires when called upon, it had become a wholly different tone of fulfillment.

It stood to reason quite well that his question caught her off guard. She answered in a stilted voice, halting and unsure while at the same time cautious as she did her best to decipher the expression on his face.

"I am... tired. Yet I am also aware. I am weak, yet also powerful. I am ignorant, yet have so much knowledge."

Her hand came up to rest over his as he held it to the side of her face. A last vestigial reaction to the closeness that the two once shared. She held tight, locking her gaze with his as she gave a hrmph.

"I feel... fine."

[General Dan]

"You feel..."

Dan watched her face, and looked down to her middle, an inscrutable smile on his face.

"Loklorien, when you slept...there is something that I felt."

His other hand rested on her abdomen.

"A wonderful thing."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She froze, the breath in her lungs suddenly gone as s'Il opened her mouth. There was no sound or utterance as she blinked once... twice...

Her heart, which had before been a steady, slow rhythm, now sped its' pace and the Lupine shifted both of her hands to settle expectantly over his as it pressed gently on her midsection.

How could she not know until now?! How could she be so unaware of her own body that her Master discovered the new life within her first?

Though still very much tired, s'Il felt her body sag - not with over-exertion, but with elated relief. Of the sort of happiness that came with the knowledge that she and the man in front of her had created life.

Her features broke into an easy, if muted, smile. For so long she'd allowed no emotions but those that the dark called for. She gave a choked laugh that could have easily been a sob as well, and her hands moved to each side of his face.

"A child... " she whispered.

[General Dan]

"A chance at our redemption. A second chance at our legacy."

His smile remained as she shared her elation.

"This child comes at a treacherous time, Loklorien. Do my will, but do not throw yourself on our enemies recklessly."

Her fight with Solomon weighed on his mind.

"We should focus on preparing our allies in the Alliance to do what must be done. You still have friends there, yes?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I do, I do... "

She only half listened to him, utterly taken with the small, flickering light of life within her. Her eye clouded over with the memories of what little he'd shared with her of his visions, and s'Il tilted her head to the side a small bit. He had mentioned twins as well as Markos, but had never specified who came first.

There was only one new beginning inside of her that she felt.

"Then it is Markos... "

[General Dan]

He closed his eyes, a knowing smile on his face just barely.

"It is." he lied.

"I can sense it. Just as it was fortold."

He opened his eyes, a sense of focus in them.

"We know what is at stake, you and I. We know what we must protect."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She knew. All too well she knew.

With a look of sombre obedience, the Lupine bowed her head. They could not afford to repeat the disastrous events that had so completely put a premature end to her last pregnancy.

It meant that she was to be staying on the Dauntless - staying close to him.

But, it would not hinder her or hobble her too terribly, and s'Il looked up at him from over the tops of her eyes.

"Your will is mine," she whispered, "... I know what must be done to ensure your son's coming."

She brushed her lips against his.

"I will keep him safe until then. You have my word."

[General Dan]

He reciprocated the kiss, his eyes on hers, letting her see the unshakeable resolve he held for her.

"Keep him safe, but keep yourself safe too. Markos needs a mother and a father. Whatever work we have to be done, we also owe it to him that he shall have this."

Standing, he extended a hand for his lover. His wife. His apprentice.

"Things are now as they should be so that we can move events in our favor without risking direct attack. We need to take advantage of this."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She took his hand, allowing him to pull her up.

"Then that is what we shall do."