#Icy Heart in a Jade Pot

[kdram-chjh]

Cdrama: Heart of Loyalty (2021)

Li hong yi _ 李宏毅的苏醉

Watch this video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cppil1LWfSU

[mybloodyfamousprophets]

i hope you ate on your 7 hour drive from the 6ix, islands far, truck stop the busses skip, pay twenty dollar ticket, get away for a weekend,

walk on through historic city, jacques cartier looks so pretty, our own little slice, copy of Paris, ligne orange a montmorency, blue line trains not fancy, changer snowdon go east, climb a mountain, watch sunsetz clouds burn out like the darts hitting, you spent your life hidden, found out what you’d been missing, spotlight Mount Royal eye, clubs bouncing city lights, head back downtown avoid fights, hit the Saint Laurent tonight, drinks flowing, your good times, look across the bar with starstruck eyes, that boys outfit is cuter than mine, but tonight i won’t have the time,

came here first you were just a kid, city felt magic we got snowed in, eating cheapest street poutine, those were really simple days, no boys backstabbers frauds or fakes, just a teacher that you hate, punish you alone i call that hate, you never talked back, no stand up show up for yourself, misguided alone on a bad path you fell, no good friends to lift you out of that hell, but you’re not that kid and now you’re well, different, but you saw the city and you got addicted

a few years later we drive on back, too broke for Adirondack, mom takes you off the leash to roam, and you almost bought a ticket home, but explore on your own and take in the sights, a city so close but different from mine, change your language all the time, guys smoking weed and cops don’t fine, didnt have a boy i could call mine, just 14 but you were longing, feel like you weren’t belonging, some new clothes renewed your hope but you still begged, throw me a rope, you were too serious, i’m not serious enough, you were jaded, now I’m faded off the pot, you were sippin, vodka, civics class was hot, im no different, just changed it up a notch,

icy winter, but i’m a little older now, thanks for frosh week, went with new friends, it was pretty sweet, stared at Van Gogh, moving picture on the wall, high feel the stars that circle the hall, not here with you, but i let myself enjoy it all, long line smoked meat, famous deli, and then we leave on down the street, i know my way in this city, Apple Maps try and lie to me, bus downtown busy streets, then we stayed in the room that night, drinking Whitney till the sun rise, one more shot on the count of ten, passing out in the bathroom bin, drunken mess dragged into bed, can’t remember what you said, drunk and i was feeling red, wishing i was holding… no, i can’t say his name.

racers weekend, rene levesque looks red hot, jean drapeau all blocked off, rainy days forecast still stayed hot, see these streets i walk a lot, but im here on my own shot, booked this trip to see him, city he was gonna be in, but i asked him when he’s free and he never sent that text to me, stayed with a friend we went to check out ACC, have a good drink but i prefer to smoke, so did he, i take another toke, what a joke, stayed with her but my boys at home, still, never came with me, i guess it’s good he couldn’t ruin my favourite city, running away REM faster than highway, make my great escape, or maybe one day, i walked by that jacques cartier, same spot i saw as a kid that day, teacher heard ipod in pocket headphones played, tales of scary ghosts and gays, spot where memories were made, i talk to none of them anymore, times passed years before

weekend trip you, came with your best friend, roommates kicked out by hotel [can’t name due to ongoing legal battle], wouldn’t leave them out on the streets, moved new hotel, now my friend is feeling groovy so we go to gay bars, smoothie, fruit salad in the room, beyonce or abba go and pick a tune, or some awful showtune we don’t feel glee, i only know Hamilton mcmaster university, or queen elizabeth, granted, not the monarch, burning filtered lights and my hands are up, burn my lungs and cross my heart, on the balcony and I’m singing, baby, did you even really love me?

one days time is, never enough, to catch this city from the window on a bus, metro underground rolling around, taking over every cool spot in town, meet a new guy old one got mean, can’t tell if he’s just, playing with me, headphones brown hair, see him some, here n there, want more, give me some fun!

one days time is, never enough, stayed in anjou, far from the fun, cross province drank the same time as me, we both threw up so dizzy, fireball my throat is burning, keele’d over on college street, he’s on the floor, breakup Whitney, and we called a cab at like, 10 past 3, friends lift him into bed, i tumbled into the back, seat, flashing lights passing by me, ride or die by my side, known since my home town that’s a long time, one won’t ask a girl cause he’s too shy, not my guy, i tried to hang out but he wouldn’t slide, don’t like sliding no pinball, no arcade, but tokens on me, already paid, if he wanted to entertain he would’ve answered differently, unless i took that wrongly, RAADS test score one thirty, sometimes need help socially, love to talk i’m maturing, smokes with strangers in places i do things i regret, manifest his text but i couldn’t read his name

still spent his time playing games, respond “i like you maybe”, no initiate or make time for me, maybe he just isn’t for me, or he’s too shy or I’m too boring, chasing men that don’t adore me, or even boys that just talk to me, tell me come through you know im moving, unless there’s a death or a dinner I can’t miss, rare family moments that sometimes exist, or friends from far places that make the adventure, and you can’t even send a text message, or just come around, this big campus town, stand on a rooftop and stare at the ground, the pond and the ducks a rare city scene, can’t look in your eyes ill get lost again

[thisoneisbatter]

Holy: Chapter One

This is a new fic that is completed but I think I'll be rolling it out chapter by chapter because it us a long one. It's brat tamer, jaded widower Sheriff Hassan in full effect. This fic does contain some very rough sex and consensual sexual violence in some chapters so please do not read if that is a trigger for you. Otherwise, please enjoy and leave feedback!

Holy

Chapter One

Word Count: 2058

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Sheriff Hassan doesn't need a Deputy on the tiny island of Crockett. That is until he meets Leslie Eber, in all of her pen-clicking, gum-popping, annoying glory. As it turns out, fate had bigger plans for them.

The first time they had sex was an accident. No, accident isn’t the right word. He didn’t trip and fall into her pussy. You don’t just fuck your deputy by accident. It was a mistake, though. A mistake is, by definition, an action that is misguided or wrong. Sheriff Hassan had fucked her by mistake.

The first time with Leslie was his first true lapse in judgement in years. He’d been calculated in all things from moving to Crockett, to just about gluing his mouth shut to keep from clapping back at every racist, Islamophobic, anti-outsider attack thrown his way. He was here for Ali. He was here for his son. He owed him the safety.

When he took the job in Crockett, he knew that there was a deputy. A woman from town who’d gone to the academy on the mainland but left patrol after only two years to return and care for her ailing mother. The outgoing Sheriff had told him about her in an email.

“Whatever you need, just ask Leslie Eber. She knows where everything can be found.” The email had said. Hassan had barely glanced over the email. She knows where everything is. Great. The duplicate keys and extra toilet paper most likely. He rolled his eyes. He didn’t need an assistant to keep the peace between 130 people. He didn’t want one.

His first few weeks drove the point home further. Beyond giving him backstories on every resident and keeping him abreast of the town gossip, which he did not ask for, Leslie was mostly useless. She went home at 5pm to cook for her mother and finished pots of coffee without starting a new one. She popped her gum and snapped the grommets on her gun belt absently while staring out the window. It irritated him. She was irritating.

It all came to a head during a winter storm. It was the worst one they’d had that season. The icy wind whipped up from the docks and through the streets, taking down power lines and throwing tree limbs onto roofs. They stayed in the office for the night, waiting for the inevitable distress calls to roll in once the storm passed.

“Sheriff Henry always sent me home during storms.” She was at the window staring out into the inky black of the night. She was always at the window. “He said there’s no point in the both of us being here.”

“Then why are you here?” Hassan didn’t look up from his stack of paperwork. It was all expired fishing licenses and requests from the mayor for a patrol of the Uppards to ward off teenagers. Nothing important, but nothing he ever bothered to get through.

“I’m supposed to be here, right?” She turned on her heels. The squeak of her boots made him look up.

“I don’t give a shit where you are.” It was harsh. It felt harsh coming out of his mouth. He’d been swallowing his anger with Bev Keane, his anger from a particularly counterintuitive city council meeting, his pride. He’d been swallowing his anger with Leslie, too. She’d drank the last of the coffee again. He’d sat at his desk and watched her do it. She emptied the pot into her cup, shrugged, and put it back. It boiled his blood.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She sounded hurt. He’d never heard her sound anything other than annoying. It stung his heart a little. “If you don’t want me here than fire me, Sheriff. Or lay me off or whatever. Sheriff Henry was always nice at least.”

“I don’t want you here, Leslie.” He stood up and took three steps to the center of the room. There was still distance between them, a good four feet of it. “I’m sorry that I was rude to you. You don’t deserve that. But I don’t need a deputy. There’s barely enough people on this island to need one of us, much less two of us.” He looked down at his boots, crossed his arms, considered leaving it at that. He thought better of it. Better to squash these things all at once. “I apologize, again, for being rude. I have a lot of pent up anger right now.” He turned and left, only going so far as the General Store to grab a snack and pencil it down on his tab behind the counter.

Leslie was quiet when he came back. She was still at the window, coffee mug securely installed between her palms, but there was no popping, snapping, pen clicking, toe tapping. Hassan saw her in a different light without all of the buzzing overstimulation that usually accompanied her. Her long auburn hair was much lighter at the end of her ponytail. He wondered if I was a grown out dye job from several years ago or if her hair bleached naturally in the summer sun. He wondered what she looked like as a blonde. Her nails were painted baby pink, but cut short. She had a shotgun blast of freckles across her nose and cheeks but nowhere else.

He was still transfixed when she spoke again, cutting into his peace. “Am I one of the things you’re angry about?” He looked her in the eyes this time. She was clearly in need of reassurance, maybe just someone to be totally honest with her. Childlike. Bordering on pathetic.

“Sometimes.” His eyes followed her as she pulled her chair to the side of his desk, a mere three feet from her own in the first place. Their office was so small. “But mostly I am just annoyed.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, chipping away her nail polish with her thumb nail. She had something else to say. He wanted to turn her upside down and shake it out of her, get it over with.

“You-you can take it out on me.” She mumbled, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“What?” He’d heard her, but it didn’t make sense.

“If you’re angry or whatever, you can take it out on me.” She stopped chipping at her nails, her confidence just a little higher than it had been moments ago. “I-uh, I like it.”

“You like what, Leslie?” His voice remained stern, measured. He knew what. He wanted to hear it from her pink, chapped lips. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23.” She answered softly, knowing what his reaction would be.

“Jesus.” Hassan threw his hands up. She was way too young to know what she was asking for.

“I’m young but I’m not stupid.” She scoot her chair closer to him, one of the wheels catching on the linoleum and almost toppling her over. “I know how to handle myself, Sheriff. I know what I like.”

He sat back in his chair, hands behind his head, trying to decide if this was worth the trouble that would come from it. If hurting her, a consenting adult, would quiet the broiling rage in his head, it couldn’t be too bad.

“Close the blinds.” He ordered suddenly, ready to make a mistake he couldn’t come back from. Her eyes lit up. He rolled his own eyes at her excitement. “Pull down your pants and lean over my desk.”

She did exactly as she was told. She didn’t even hesitate. He hated it. The way her ass jiggled and she yelped when he spanked her, though, he didn’t hate that. Not at all. He spanked her again and again until he was starting to break a sweat, his hand coming down harder every time. A deep, raised welt was boiling up on her pale flesh. It would be a bruise. Something about that turned him on.

Spanking her was incredibly cathartic. She was crying, snot and drool dripping down onto the papers on his desk, but her white knuckle fingers didn’t let go. Her chest remained flat to his closed laptop. She didn’t try to get away. Poor girl. He wanted to break her so bad.

“Fuck me, Sheriff.” Her eyes were trained on his. He hadn’t gotten out of his chair. Her words made him raise up though.

He slapped her. Hard across her face. Grabbing a handful of her hair and pressing her head down onto the wood, he brought his own face to her level and spat on her. He’d never been so degrading to anyone in his entire life, but Leslie, she fucking <i>smiled</i>.

That smile set him off. He kept his fist in her hair, pressing her down while he unbuckled his belt and forced his jeans down just far enough to free his erection. He didn’t give her warning or ask permission. He didn’t care. She’d been pissing him off for months and she just fucking smiled at him. He fucked all of the anger into her. The issues with Bev Keane, with the church, with the racist townies, with Ali wanting to go to church with his friends, with no one taking him seriously, with her drinking that last cup of goddamn coffee. He fucked all of that into her. All the while she was sobbing and moaning, moaning and sobbing. It had become one sound. He let it wash over him.

He came inside of her. He closed his eyes and felt like shit about it, but he did it anyway, pulling up her panties and trousers and patting her on the crotch while he knew it was leaking out of her. She was sweaty and filthy. He preferred her like that.

She stood shell shocked in front of him while he buttoned her pants for her, tucking in the front of her shirt haphazardly. Thank god no one was going to see her right now.

“Is that what you wanted, Leslie?” He sat down in his chair again, buttoning his own jeans and refastening his belt. She looked like she was going to crumble into a million pieces if he pushed her any more. She cracked a small smile, nodded yes. She’d never looked so fragile though.

“Come sit down.” He patten his knee. She was reluctant and slow in her movements. He could see the pain on her face when she sat down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged, allowing him to use his shirt sleeve to wipe the snot and tears from her face.

“Do you feel ok about what happened?” He wasn’t even entirely sure if he felt ok about it. It got him off and he definitely wasn’t wound tightly with anger anymore, but he wasn’t enjoying watching Leslie tremble, unable or unwilling to speak to him. “Do never want it to happen again?” He spoke to her like a child, stern but soft.

She shook her head, no. He wove his fingers into her knotted hair, scratching her scalp a little as he pulled her head down to his chest. He hadn’t been with anyone since losing his wife and he didn’t want to be. Not like it was with her. Shameema was smarter than him and in most ways that count, stronger. She had the upper hand and he liked it that way. Even if he could recreate the way he felt with her, he wouldn’t.

When they were young it was stumbling and fumbling and laughter. As they got older, they only fit together more perfectly. Sometimes when he missed her the most he’d remember the mornings in their mid-twenties when his beard was a little shorter and her belly was round with Ali. Before he put on his uniform and before she draped her hijab over her long, chocolate brown hair, he’d make love to her in the morning light. Her scent was burned into his memory. Cinnamon and nutmeg, she’d whisper not to tell anyone that breakfast was haram.

“Allah wouldn’t want us to eat bland food.” She’d lean into him while he worked the hair tie out of her braid, unwinding the glossy brown tendrils that hung down her back. Her back pressed to his chest, her hands planted on the counter in front of her, dress pulled up around her waist, Hassan would make love to her with his palm stretched wide over her growing belly. There was a purity to it that only existed in his memories, and it would stay there.

[local-ground-apple]

Hiii! I just read the short reader fighting bullies with the dorm leaders and I loved it! Can I have a one-shot little sis of Azul, joining the leech twins in fighting people? Like his reactions on how he doesn’t want his little sister getting into trouble but yeeting herself to it. Thank you! Or you can do a gender neutral, I don’t mind🤗

alternative title: Azul basically has mom on speed dial

AZUL: You’re here just to flirt with twins, beat some people and stare at Jade’s butt

Y/N: No?

AZUL: I have mom on speed dial and I’ll be watching you, so be careful

Y/N: See, this is why mom doesn’t love you!

oh, and the headcanons anon mentioned are here

,,Ahhh, Kurage-chan~~ Squeeze a bit harder!!!”

“And here comes the sting~~”

Azul signed deeply hearing two cheerful voice while the bloody massacre was unfolding behind the closed door of his cabinet. He adjusted his glasses and flicked his pen nervously.

Oh, how he hated this.

You would visit him once a while in the academy as you always carefully worded it “because mom was worried and she sends you a package”, while he knew very well that you weren’t there for him.

Oh no, no.

You were there for Leech twins. 

Or more accurately, for the violence, squeezing and drawing blood from poor, unfortunate souls. You were a rather volatile, callous and ruthless creature. In some aspects you reminded him of Floyd. With a bright, innocent smile you would mercilessly crush the bones with your stinging tentacles sending the electric waves with just mere touch of your finger.

Speaking of Floyd, you and him were the definition of “prepare for trouble and make it double” or thrice, since Jade would often join you two.

And to think you were younger than Azul..

Azul frowned and let out a barely audible “tch” when he heard your pearly giggle followed by low chuckle and Floyd’s cruel laughter.

When the limp body hit his door once again, Azul finally lost his calm and collected composure and stepped out of the door. He certainly wasn’t impressed or surprised when he saw the trail of unconscious bodies laying on the floor adorned with crimson droplets.

At least you weren’t in your real form, remarked Azul.

You stood between Leech twins, who in Azul’s humble opinion were way too close to his little sister. Floyd’s arm loosely hang around your shoulder as his sharp teeth nibbled on the soft skin of your neck, while Jade’s hand was intertwined with yours and his lips were leaving wet trail of kisses on your collarbone.

Sometimes Azul preferred not to know what type of relationship you three shared. Sometimes he pretended it was just kicking someone’s butt.

,,Y/N, we need to talk”

His icy voice dripping with annoyance made you turn your attention from Jade’s warm lips to him entirely. You could almost feel a shiver running down your spine, as you gently pushed your way out of twins’ squeezing embrace. You gently hoped over bloody bodies, not sparing even a glance at them and made your way to Azul’s cabinet, while your step brother with a wave of his hand commanded Leech twins to clean this atrocious massacre.

 ,,I don’t think you should be participating in those matters. Leech twins are more than capable of handling that on their own and what if you get hurt one day?”

Remarked Azul. You could sense the frustration and affection for you in his voice. You were his younger sister after all and he did care about you. Azul wasn’t fond of your violent free time activities. 

,,I’m a deadly creature of the sea, I can take care of myself”

You stated with confidence and you were met with Azul’s scowl in return. The corners of his lips curled in small smirk. You almost made him amused.

“You’re literally a jellyfish”

“BUT A DEADLY JELLYFISH”

You pouted at his words and then proceeded to enter “I’m as mighty as you, but can your tentacles sting?” mode. Azul wasn’t mistaken. You were his dear, younger step sister. You two shared a mom, but had a different dad.

And you were a jellyfish. A deadly one, as you always fondly said.

Azul often viewed you as a fragile, benevolent and affable sea creature. The way your pinkish tentacles gently swayed in the sea, how you sparkled in the water whenever sun rays would reach your transparent form, how you could sent sparks through other organisms. Truly endearing.

Yet, instead of being a sophisticated and elegant sea being, you preferred to join cruel Leech twins in their bloody excursions.

,,I know you just hang out here because of Leech twins, but please Y/N refrain from those actions. I simply don’t want you getting into troubles or seeing you injured”

You crossed your arms over your chest. How many times have you heard that? How many times Azul had tried to stop you from fighting people with outstanding debts? You lost the count after 34th attempt. You sighed frustrated and annoyed with the conversation,

,,You’re not my mom”

‘’I’m your older brother”

Azul was quick to respond again in his calm voice, while your patience was running low. You threw your hands with frustration, as you began to feel irritated with each passing second.

“You’re not my real brother”

You remarked and Azul’s eyes widen slightly. He clenched his fists and for the first time you today you had seen him losing his calmness in front of you.

“You take that back”

You eyed him with slightly narrowed eyes in the complete silence. You both stared at each other, having a silent competition, waiting for the first person to lose. You sighed deeply, running a hand through your disheveled hair. You knew how much Azul cherished your relationship and how he always insisted that he was your big brother. You decided to back off today.

,,Okay, I’m sorry. But that doesn’t mean I will stop hanging out with tweels”

Your bored voice probably triggered Azul and forced him to pull the most deadly card from his sleeve. You saw him sighing deeply for the umpteenth time this evening, before a bright smile found his way on his lips.

And that made you worried. Azul’s cunning and false smile always spelled a upcoming catastrophe and doom. It seemed like your heart stopped for a moment and you wanted nothing more than to curl inside your pot entangled by your stingy tentacles.

,,That’s it. I’m calling mom”

,,W-wait! nO!!”

 BONUS

,,Ahhh, remember that one time I tried to squeeze Kurage-chan, but she stung me? That was so, so cute~~”

,,Oh, I suppose we simply enjoy woman with character”

“I swear to Sea Witch if you continue talking about my sister within the 5 kilometers of me, I will personally destroy you”

“Woooahhh, how scary~~~~~”

btw, Kurage is a jellyfish

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Warming Up

Revalink Week Day 1: First Date

Here’s a quick one-shot that I sort of just whipped together, because I forgot to plan something for today. So, enjoy!

- - - - - 

The wind whistled along with his song.

A simple tune, that he hummed with the morning birds. 

The fire crackled, flames licking at the bottom of the metal wok.

The cozy campsite warmed Link’s body and heart. 

The breeze continued to comb through the trees. The smell of pine, and the blur of evergreens tangled through the air. The sky was painted a delicate blue, with silver clouds lacing between the morning sun’s rays. 

Link held the herbs, slowly chopping them and letting them fall into the stew. They drifted like soft petals, before letting out a satisfied sizzle when making contact with the rest of the ingredients. The aroma was incredible. It tugged at his senses, and pulled out the coziest memories from his mind. A smile formed on his lips, as he continued to cook, humming nothing in particular.

He had chosen this spot carefully. Surrounded by trees and away from the eyes of tourist and wanderers. The view of Lake Totori below reflected the sparkle of the sun perfectly. Behind him, the towering figure of Rito Village could be seen, and carved into it stone center, was a hole. At just the right angle, at this particular spot, it’s shadow cast the shape of a heart across the grass. 

Cliché, to be sure, but would Revali expect anything less?

Suddenly, the wind struck again, nipping at his face. Link shivered.

But the rush of air was familiar, and he turn around to face him.

Every sound in the forest reminded Link of Revali. The call of the wind, seemed to whisper his name. The green blur of the forest revealed shades of jade and emerald that sparkled like his eyes. He looked towards the sky, and his stomach fluttered to actually see the dash of deep blue cutting through the sky like an arrow. 

Revali descended in a spiral of air, and loose dirt and grass. When his feet gripped the dirt, he raised an eyebrow at Link, taking in the scene. While he had always prided himself on his great speed, he was a bit annoyed to find his punctuality had been upstaged.

“Rather early, I see,” he shifted his gaze from the cooking pot, to the wild flowers and trees, to the shadow of a heart that lay across the grass. “Quite the set up for a casual date, don’t you think?” 

Link scratched the back of his head, chuckling quietly. Then, he picked up a wooden bowl. “Uh, would you like some spicy meat stew?”

Observing his smile for another moment, the Rito stood in silence, for just a moment. The cutting breeze carried the savoury scent of the stew towards him. Revali could already imagine its smooth consistency and spicy sensation. He scoffed, disguising the excitement on his face. “So long as it’s edible...”

Link took a wooden spoon, and poured two bowls of stew, the steam twirled through the air. “I just hope it will warm you up enough. I hear the temperature's gonna drop later today.”

Revali clicked his tongue. “I’m afraid it will take more than an icy breeze to breach through my magnificent feathers.”

“Ah...I guess that’s true...”

They sat in the grass, the morning dew sticking to their clothes. Link fiddled with his spoon, staring intently at the ground in an attempt to hide his rosening cheeks. “Still, I personally don’t want to freeze to death.” Revali look at him, noticing his slight shiver.

He wrapped his wing around him, hesitantly. For a moment, the Hylian did nothing but tense, frozen in uncertainty. Then, Link leaned into it, closing the distance. The feathers on Revali’s neck fluffed up from embarrassment, but Link didn’t notice. Finally, they both allowed themselves to relax.

“Well, if I ever need to warm myself further still,” Revali looked away, speaking quietly, “I always have you...”

[vexvamp]

Wings of Fire: Revenant The Final Chapter Part 2 of 3 Part One - Part Three

   “Make your choice, Turtle. Does she live, or does she die?” -

   Turtle was trembling so violently now that Peacemaker wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole mountain began to shake along with him. His gold-flecked eyes darted frantically left and right as he tried to meet Kinkajou’s gaze behind the veil of Peacemaker’s upraised wings.

   Peacemaker felt the chain wound around his wrist jerk violently, and the young hybrid turned to find Kinkajou frantically shaking her head, pleading with Turtle to say no, to let her die if it meant Darkstalker could not return. Respect welled suddenly and unwelcomingly in Peacemaker’s already overcrowded head, but he quickly squashed it, concentrating instead on the steady tempo of rage which had fueled him so far.

   “I’m not going to sit here all night, Turtle!” he snapped. He was fairly confident in Turtle’s lack of brainpower, but he didn’t want to risk allowing the Seawing time to figure out one of the numerous ways he could get around this plan.

   “I…I don’t…I…”

   “Peacemaker!” a voice suddenly cried through the cacophony of distant thunder.

   Peacemaker whirled in the direction of the sound, his heart beating a furious rhythm in his chest. It couldn’t be! How could she know he was here?

   A midnight-black form suddenly emerged from the gloom, eyes burning like emerald flames.  

   “Mother?! Wh…what are you doing here?!”

   “I’ve come to bring you home,” Hope replied as she lighted down neatly on the cliff next to Turtle.

   Foeslayer! he silently corrected himself. There is no Hope! It was a lie, just like everything else in my life!

   Peacemaker gritted his teeth. “I am going home, Mother. My real home…in the Night Kingdom.”

   “Peacemaker, stop this foolishness! The Night Kingdom is practically destroyed. There’s nothing for you to go back to.”

   “There will be when I get my powers back! I’ll return our kingdom to its original glory, and our tribe won’t have to grovel to Rainwings ever again.”

   Foeslayer didn’t seem particularly swayed by this declaration, as if somehow she had already known what his plan was.

   “We don’t grovel to anyone, and you know that. Don’t tell me getting back the memories of your first life has suddenly made you forget your second one.”

   “How did you know I’d gotten my memory back? You don’t seem terribly surprised by any of this. It’s almost like someone…told you.”

   Foeslayer narrowed her eyes, but didn’t reply.

   “You’re not alone…are you?”

    Suddenly, a second form, smaller than the first, materialized from the darkness. The silver scales on either side of her eyes flashed like teardrops as she lighted down on the cliff beside him.

   “Moon,” he hissed, “I should have known.” Silently he cursed himself for not anticipating this.

   “Peacemaker…” she started.

   “Don’t call me that!” he snapped. “You know as well as I do that, that dragon doesn’t exist!”

   Rage burned in his chest like a boiling pot threatening to spill over. More than Foeslayer, more than Turtle, more than even Kinkajou, this was the dragon whose betrayal he felt the most. Kinkajou may have masterminded his enchantment, but he had barely even known her at the time. She was nothing to him, so why should she think twice about ripping away his powers? But Moon had been his friend, the only real friend he had, had after emerging from the mountain. He had spared her from his enchantments because he had trusted her, and look where that trust had gotten him!

   She stared back at him for a moment, as if at a loss for words. Unlike Foeslayer, who looked equal parts angry, frustrated, afraid, and distressed, Moon simply looked sad. Maybe in her visions she had seen what he had seen, felt what he had felt. Maybe she knew how much he hated her now.

   “I’m sorry, Peace…I’m sorry. I never wanted you to find out like this.”

   “You never wanted me to find out at all!” he snapped.

   “We gave you the chance to choose for yourself, and you refused. It was the only way to keep Pyrrhia safe from you.” She sighed heavily. “Because you couldn’t be trusted, Darkstalker.”

   “I couldn’t be trusted?! I was always truthful with you, Moon! You above everyone else.”

   “That’s not true, and you know it,” she replied calmly. “You deceived me as much as you deceived everyone else. Maybe even more so.”

   “You have no right to preach to me about deception, Moonwatcher! Before me you were nothing! A miserable, pitiful little dragon afraid of her own shadow that was convinced her visions were nothing but bad dreams. I taught you how to use your powers, and what did you do? You used them against me! ‘He was picking strawberries’, right? A happy new life for everyone. Well, your vision was a lie! Did you see this in my wonderful new future?” he demanded, spreading his wings to indicate the scene around them.  

   Moon hung her head. “No, I didn’t. But I do see what happens if you get your powers back.”

   Peacemaker lowered his head so he could look her in the eye, and hissed, “So enlighten me.”

   She looked back at him. “The same thing that was going to happen before Clearsight put you under the mountain. You’ll destroy Pyrrhia.”

   “That’s not the future I saw.”

   “That’s not the future you wanted to see. But it’s the one Clearsight saw.”

   He gritted his teeth. “Clearsight betrayed me.”

   “Only because you left her no other choice. After what you did to your father, there was no going back.”

   “My father deserved it!”

   “No one deserves to die like that.” The icy calm in her voice was infuriating. It made him want to reach out and claw that self righteous look right off of her face.

   “You don’t know what he was like!” Peacemaker snapped.

   She glanced up at him, anger showing for the first time beneath the blanket of eerie calm. “From the sound of it, he was a lot like you.”

   Rage shot through him like a wave of flame, spreading all the way to the tips of his talons. “Shut up!”

   “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but Arctic was a dragon just like you. He made mistakes. He let his power corrupt him.”

   “He wanted to destroy our tribe!”

   “The only one trying to destroy our tribe is you!” Moon replied sharply.

   “I said shut up!” he snapped, and before he realized what he was doing, a blast of flame shot from his jaws and barreled furiously in Moon’s direction. She reeled backwards just as the flame made contact with her right wing, teetering for a brief moment before she toppled over the edge of the cliff. Peacemaker watched in horror as she began to fall, the burn spreading, blackening and shriveling the wing membrane like it was made of paper.

   “Moon!” he gasped, making a move to catch her, but not fast enough.

   For a brief, terrifying moment Moon disappeared from sight over the side of the cliff, her cry of distress swallowed up by the distant thunder. Kinkajou was pulling desperately at her chains, a horrified scream streaming wordlessly from her clenched jaws.

   Three moons, what have I done?!

   Then, before Peacemaker had a chance to realize what was happening, Foeslayer was in the air. She dove with the speed and precision of a hunting falcon, and emerged, struggling under the weight of the younger dragon slung across her back. She deposited Moon gently on the cliff beside Turtle, who was staring at the two of them in frozen, silent horror.

   At first Moon was completely still, her blackened wing flopping uselessly at her side, her eyes closed and her head resting against the stone cliff. For one horrible moment Peacemaker was sure she must be dead, until suddenly her injured wing twitched, and a long, soft groan of pain escaped her.

   “Are you all right, Moon?” Foeslayer demanded.

   Moon raised her head, her eyes glazed with pain. “I…I think so….”

   She looked up and outwards, her eyes meeting Peacemaker’s with a look that should have been angry or frustrated or confused…a look that should not have been as hopeless and heartbroken as it was.

   Peacemaker could feel tears stinging his eyes. “I…I didn’t mean…I didn’t want to…”

   The anger inside of him was now warring with equal parts guilt and sadness, but still he attempted to hold onto it. She had betrayed him! She deserved it!

   “Enough of this!” he snapped, taking the chain in his talons and tossing Kinkajou over the side of the cliff. For a brief moment she fell down, down towards the black abyss below, only to hit the end of the chain and dangle precariously by the lengths of metal attached to her feet, wings, neck, and mouth. All three of the onlookers gasped in unison as their friend hung there, strung up by her feet like nothing more than a roasting pig.

   Peacemaker raised the end of the chain he was holding so all three of them could see it clearly. “Now change me back, or I drop her!”

   “All right, I’ll do it!” Turtle suddenly burst out.

   “Turtle, no!” Moon cried, grimacing as she attempted to stand, only to be hindered by her injured wing. “Kinkajou wouldn’t want that.”

   The frantic shaking of Kinkajou’s head seemed to indicate that Moon was right, but Turtle didn’t seem swayed by this.

   “It won’t matter what she does or doesn’t want if she’s dead!”

   “If Darkstalker comes back, then she’s already dead!” Foeslayer cried.

   A jolt of sadness struck right in the center of Peacemaker’s heart. His own mother thought he was nothing but a monster.

   “I’m sorry, but I can’t let her die,” Turtle cried, tears streaming from his eyes. “I love her.”

   He took a deep breath. “I enchant…”

   “Wait! Stop!” a new voice suddenly rang out, more powerful even than the sound of the storm.

   Peacemaker looked up just in time to see a form illuminated by the lightning dancing between the billowing clouds.

   “Seeker?”

   Clearsight.

   “Truthseeker, what are you doing here?” Foeslayer demanded. “I told you to stay back at Jade Mountain!”

   “I’m sorry, Hope, but I have to be here. I…I have to talk to him…because I’m the only one who can. There’s…there’s something you don’t know about me.”

   The young Nightwing flew across to Peacemaker, as if she intended to light down next to him, then at the last minute seemed to think better of it and instead decided to stay airborne.

   “Have you come to appeal to my better nature too, then?” Peacemaker asked.

   “I just want to talk,” she replied, her wings flapping heavily as she hovered in the air before him.

   “I’ve had enough talk,” he said, “either I get my powers back or this dragon dies.” He held up the chain briefly before winding it around a nearby spire of rock to take the crushing weight off his wrist.

   “I don’t think you want to kill anyone, Peacemaker.”

   “Is that right?” he replied skeptically.

   “No, because I think you’re a good dragon. I think you’ve always been a good dragon.”

   This reply managed to give him pause, and he found himself looking at her more intently than he had been before.

   “But sometimes…sometimes when a dragon is angry or scared or feels helpless, sometimes they…they do bad things. They do bad things and they think it’s okay, because other dragons have done the same things to them. I think everyone’s felt that way before, but most of us don’t have the power to act on it. If we did then…I think it would be a lot easier for a good dragon to do a lot of bad things.”

   Peacemaker narrowed his eyes. “How can you claim to know what kind of dragon I am? Maybe you’d feel differently if you really knew all the things I’ve done.”

   “But I do know. I don’t know how, but when you go your memories back, so did I. Suddenly I remembered when you were Darkstalker…and I was Clearsight.”

   Foeslayer and Moon both looked surprised by her sudden confession, but not particularly astonished by the revelation that the young blacksmith and the ancient seer were one and the same. Somehow Peacemaker was sure that they had known already, though he wasn’t sure exactly how.

   “You were right about who you thought I was,” Truthseeker continued.

   “But how is that possible? Did you put an enchantment on yourself with my old scroll?”

   “No, it wasn’t anything like that. I lived and I died like any normal dragon, and then, somehow, I…I came back. I came back as a new dragon, only I didn’t remember who I used to be. Sometimes the memories would come to me as dreams, dreams of places I had never been and dragons I had never seen…and one dragon in particular, with eyes that looked like yours.”

   Peacemaker stared fixedly at her, remembering his own dreams about a dragon he loved, a dragon that he had feared for so long did not exist.

   “Now I think I finally understand why I came back,” she said.

   “And why is that?”

   “For you.”

   Peacemaker narrowed his eyes. “To stop me.”

   “To help you. To do what I couldn’t do before. To have a chance at those happy futures we missed out on all those years ago.”  

   “But that’s exactly what I’m trying to do! In all of my happiest futures I was king of the Nightwings, and you were my queen. We had our dragonets, remember? Eclipse and Shadowhunter? If you let me get my powers back, then we can finally have that. We can be together, Clearsight!”

   Truthseeker sighed and shook her head. “You saw the futures where you were king as nothing but happiness and prosperity because that’s all you ever wanted to see. In my visions you were a tyrant, manipulating dragons’ minds, killing, trying to take over all of Pyrrhia…and you were never happy. Not once. We were never happy.”

   Peacemaker growled. “Is that why you tricked me and stuck me under the ground for two thousand years? Why should I believe anything you say when the last time we met you took everything from me?”

   “You think I wanted to do that?!” Her expression turned suddenly angry. “I suffered every day for the rest of my life because of that decision, but you left me no choice! You chose your future, and in that future there was no room for anyone else. Not me or any other dragon. So I did what I had to do to save the world from you, and I don’t regret that I did it.”

   “Then why are you here in the first place?! If I’m just a selfish monster, why do you want to have anything to do with me?”

   “Because never, not once in all the years I lived after I left you under that mountain, did I stop loving you. And I don’t think you’re a selfish monster. I think you’ve made some pretty selfish, monstrous decisions, but I always knew that at your core was a good dragon, a dragon who was born with more power than anyone should have and didn’t know how to deal with it. But you also got something most dragons never get: a second chance. A chance to start again…to be a better dragon…and you have been, Peacemaker. You have been.”

   Peacemaker had a million things to say, and yet he couldn’t think of any of them.

   Truthseeker raised her left arm, and he saw that she had his beaded red and white necklace wrapped around her wrist. “Do you remember when I made this for you? Remember how excited you were?”

   Peacemaker sighed. “Yes, I remember.”

   “And do you remember when my father died? You were the only one I could count on. On those days when I was sure I didn’t want to live without him, I kept going because of you.”

   Peacemaker’s shoulders threatened to buckle. “I…I didn’t know that.”

   “I think there are a lot of things you don’t know. Did you know Auklet wanted to give up on weaving because she felt she wasn’t good enough? She only changed her mind because you told her how talented she was. Did you know Cliff thought the only reason anyone liked him was because he was a prince? And then he met you, and you never cared at all about his title. He told me that because of that, he felt you were the first real friend he’s ever had. Did you know Orchid still has flashbacks from her time in the Nightwing labs? And she feels like she can’t tell Mangrove, because he worries too much? But she said that on those days where it becomes so overwhelming that she feels like she can’t go on, your silly little songs always cheer her up.”

   “But I…I thought she hated my singing.”

   “She only says that to wind you up, because she knows it’s more fun if you think she doesn’t want you to do it. She told me ‘Strawberries as Big as a Scavenger’s Head’ always makes her smile, even if it is a little morbid.”

   A smile pulled at the corner’s of Peacemaker’s mouth. “I…I would always sing that one when we were picking the strawberries. I thought it drove her crazy.”

   She paused. “You know, for a dragon that doesn’t exist…you sure do have a lot of happy memories.”

   “But it was a lie! All of it was built on lies!”

   “It wasn’t a lie. It was you. You without your powers. And that’s what I think you don’t want to believe. That the you that never had powers was a better dragon. A happier dragon.”  

   Peacemaker shook his head stubbornly, reaching back into his memories for something, anything that would indicate that she was wrong. Hadn’t he been happy in his other life? Hadn’t he done good things? He thought about his sister, Whiteout. They had been happy together, hadn’t they? Then he remembered the look of horror on her face when she had seen her father rip himself to pieces in front of her. Had she ever forgotten that, or had she carried that memory around for the rest of her life? Peacemaker grimaced. He had been so busy thinking about getting revenge on his father that he hadn’t stopped to think about how it would affect his sister.

   What about Foeslayer? He thought of his dragonethood as Darkstalker, of the fighting and the yelling and the cold looks exchanged over silent dinners. Then he thought of being Peacemaker, of lazy days in the rainforest making mud pies so that Hope had to rinse him off in the stream, of eating bananas and listening to the tree frogs call as the moon rose high over the thick canopy. He could almost feel the warmth of her scales as he snuggled beneath her wing to sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that his mother could chase away any bad dreams that came in the night.

   One by one he thought of his friends. He thought of Moon’s patience and Kinkajou’s enthusiasm, of Auklet’s kindness and Cliff’s boundless confidence. They had liked him when he had no spells to cast, no superpowers to give out, no positions of authority to promise them. They had wanted to be his friend simply because of the dragon he was, the utterly ordinary, unspectacular dragon with nothing special to offer them.

   “But if I’m not king…if I have no powers…who am I? I’ve never wanted to be anything else.”

   “You’re Peacemaker. That’s all you need to be.”

   Peacemaker felt as if he were being ripped in two, his body tearing and cracking and breaking apart. If he was Peacemaker, he was nothing! An ordinary dragon with no special destiny. He couldn’t live like that. He couldn’t!

   But if he was Darkstalker, then who would he be? A king who everyone hated? A king whose own mother feared him? A king whose lifelong friend would willingly give her life to keep him from returning? A king who had to cast spells to make other dragons like him? Because now even Moon would never trust him again, and for the rest of one long, never-ending life he would know it was all fake. It was all a lie. Darkstalker was a dragon no one could love and no one could trust. Even surrounded by subjects and admirers and enchanted friends, he would be alone. He would be as alone as if he were still trapped under that mountain.

   His legs finally gave out from under him, and he collapsed onto the cold stone. The sound of the thunder in his ears seemed as if it were coming from a million miles away. He felt the long-held tears finally fall from his eyes, and tasted their bitter, salty tang as they met his lips.

   “What do I do?”

   He didn’t realize that Truthseeker had lighted down next to him until he felt her tail fall comfortingly across his shoulders. He looked up to see her violet eyes looking softly down at him.

   “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

   He shook his head, the tears burning in his eyes, and the taste of smoke still in his mouth.

   “I can’t. I can’t go back. Not after everything I’ve done.”

   “Peacemaker…” Her expression was now twisted with worry, as if she feared that all she had done had amounted to nothing.

   Slowly, Peacemaker rose to his feet and unfastened the chain from the spire of rock where he had anchored it. For a moment he held the chain suspended in the air, aware of the weight of this last hope dangling over the abyss. In his talons he held to opportunity to get back everything he ever wanted, to be king of Pyrrhia, to live forever, to have powers no other dragon could dream of. It was all his for the taking.

   So, as a clap of thunder shook the stone beneath his feet, Peacemaker lighted into the air and dragged Kinkajou back onto the cliff. As she lay there, willing to blood to siphon back into her limbs, Peacemaker quietly landed and withdrew the key from where it was hidden.

   Silently, he handed it to Truthseeker.

   She smiled at him as if he’d somehow delivered her one of the moons and said it was all for her. “You’re a good dragon, Peacemaker.”

   He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

   Her brows knit together into a look of concern.

   “You’re a good dragon, Truthseeker. I’m nothing. I’m no one. And now I’ve ruined everything.”

   “Don’t say that. Look, let’s just go home, and we can forget about all this.”

   He shook his head again. “I can’t. There’s nowhere for me to go.”

   “Peacemaker…”

   “Free Kinkajou. Help Turtle heal Moon. Keep them safe.” He took a few steps back. “I can’t stay here.”

   “Peacemaker, wait…”    "I'm sorry." And with that he lighted into the air and disappeared into the shadows of the storm.

-----

No critique desired. Please respect that. Wings of Fire belongs to Tui T. Sutherland The art and writing belongs to me, and you are not permitted to steal, trace, copy, reference, or otherwise redistribute it in any way. I also do not want to see this posted on RP sites, Facebook, YouTube, etc. without my permission. That's still art theft.

[jedimordsith]

Dancer (Part VIII)

“Come on, Boss! You'll love this place,” Hobbie cajoled.

“Well,” Luke agreed, letting himself be pulled along. “It would be criminal to waste a night off.”

Wes grinned and slapped Wedge on the back. “I can't believe you actually got us a free night!” he praised. “On a nice, safe, neutral planet, too!”

Ducking inside the cantina, Rogue Squadron quickly commandeered a private table in the back. Wedge and Luke both chipped in a little extra for one with the deflector screen to shield them from prying eyes and ears. Neutral world or not, it never hurt to be careful. Especially when you planned to get very, very drunk.

They'd been there for an hour, well into their cups already, when Luke felt the shift in the Force. Mentally disengaging from his raucous companions, he stared out through the screen and surveyed the rowdy cantina in the Force. Nothing.

He frowned. There'd been something, he was sure of it. He tried again. Felt something spark, then instantly dart away from him. Now he was intrigued.

“What is it?” Wedge had scooted over next to him and was staring out of the screen as well, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Company?”

“I don't know,” Luke said, eyes unfocusing slightly as he dug a little deeper in the Force, scanning the room again. “There's something – but I can't quite put my finger on it.” He shook his head. “Not danger, exactly. Something else.”

“What's not dangerous?” Tycho asked, leaning over the table and craning his neck at an odd angle, trying to figure out what had captured his friends' attention.

Tell your friends it's rude to stare, Farmboy.

Luke lit up like a megga-watt luma panel. Mara!

She let her shields slip just a little, and he zeroed in on her presence in the Force like a beacon.

Are you working? He asked hesitantly, suddenly aware that he could unintentionally be a dangerous distraction.

Confession. No. A pause. But if I'm distracting you, I can go somewhere else.

No! Without thinking about it, Luke was out of his seat and weaving his way through the tables.

“Where's he going?” Tycho asked Wedge, surprised.

“Beats me. Make sure your blaster's handy, just in case, though.”

Mara was tucked into a corner of the bar, back to the wall, completely swathed in a nondescript dark grey cloak. Luke eased casually onto a stool two seats down from her.

“What are you drinking?”

“Severeen's.”

Worried blue eyes flicked to hers. “Bad night?”

A half-smile. “Just an indulgence. He doesn't approve, but I like it.”

That brought a smile, and Luke motioned to the bartender, ordering another glass of the expensive brandy. Then he turned those beautiful eyes back on her and adopted his best pleading face. “Come sit with us.”

Alarm flashed across her face. “That is not a good idea.”

“Please,” he coaxed. “They don't have to know who you are. Just that you're a friend.”

“And who exactly is 'they'?” She inquired, eyes narrowing.

He grinned. Rogue Squadron.

“Oh, kriff no!” Skywalker, I can't possibly…

The both froze silently while Luke's brandy was delivered.

They're going to be your friends and comrades too, when you get out, Luke prompted gently. He felt her waver and made a conscious effort not to hold his breath.

“Farmboy...” She sounded at a loss suddenly, uncharacteristic vulnerability seeping around her shields. I don't know anything about friends. The question behind it was painfully clear, and a part of his heart wanted to weep for her. What if I screw this up?

“Hey,” he said, his hand sneaking over to duck under the edge of her cloak and tug her hand away from her glass so he could squeeze it. “These are my friends.” They're a safe crowd, even for naive farm boys and Emperor's Hands.

“You're not going to take no for answer, are you?” she asked reluctantly.

“Nope,” he grinned.

“This is still a bad idea,” she maintained.

Luke tugged at her hand and retrieved his glass with the other, waiting for her to pick up her own and follow. “It's all right. We excel at those.”

She snorted, but let him feel her amusement through their bond as they picked their way back towards the private table.

They had a waiting audience by the time they rounded the screen, and Luke felt Mara tense. He sent her a reassuring wave of comfort in the Force and took her glass, sliding both their drinks onto the table. Wedge scooted over, and Luke dropped back into his spot, pulling Mara down beside him. It went unnoticed by no one that he left one arm casually but protectively – or was it possessively? - around her waist.

“Find your Force disturbance, Boss?” Tycho opened.

“Better,” Luke told him, “I found a friend.” He nudged Mara and, after a reassuring glance at the screen, she reluctantly tugged down her hood. “Rogues,” he announced proudly, “meet Jade. Jade, the infamous Rogues.”

Mara inclined her head in a regal nod. “Celebrating something?” she asked politely.

“A night off,” Wedge said, smiling at her and sticking out a hand. “Wedge Antilles. Always nice to meet another friend of Luke's.” He did a quick round of introductions, and Tycho helped him steer the conversation to easy topics in hopes of easing the newcomer's clear unease.

Hobbie and Wes staring at her slack-jawed probably didn't help, but Luke kept one hand in comforting contact with her at all times, it seemed. That earned stares in and of itself, but they all tried to pretend not to notice.

Then the sabacc cards came out. Luke held up his hands. “Oh no, count me out,” he protested. 

“Do you play?” Tycho asked the girl politely.

Mara's eyes gleamed with predatory delight. “That depends,” she purred. “What are we playing for?”

“Usually we play for chores and duty shifts,” Wedge cut in, fascinated by the sudden shift in demeanor. “But since tonight is special, I think we should up the stakes.”

“Playing for real credits, Boss?” Hobbie looked up eagerly. “All right!”

“I'm in,” Mara said instantly.

“Be nice, Jade,” Luke warned.

She flashed him a feral smile that had Wes drooling. “Just as nice as they are, Farmboy.”

Two hours later, the table was groaning as Mara scooped yet another pot of credits to her corner. Luke sipped his brandy and smiled until his cheeks hurt. The cloak had come off, revealing Mara's well put together form and beautiful hair, and the game had created a familiar even playing field that drew her out of her shell. He watched her trade baiting remarks and snarking replies with his friends and savored the knowledge that when she got out, this could be normal.

A tiny chime went off, and Mara's hand went absently to a cargo pocket. Pulling out her comm, she flipped the side open and her eyes skimmed the screen. Instantly, she jerked backward, snapping the device shut and shoving it in a pocket. Jolting to her feet, she grabbed her cloak and swirled it around her.

“What's wrong?” Luke ignored his friends' startled looks and was on his feet, reaching for Mara.

“I have to go. You have to go.” Her voice was tight. She shot a glance around the table at his largely inebriated squad mates. “Get off planet – you have maybe an hour, at best.”

Everyone else at the table was staring now, leaning forward in concern, the drunker amongst them blinking owlishly at the sudden change in atmosphere.

Luke gripped her shoulders. Why? What's happening?

Hard green eyes met his, all mirth gone. The Fleet is coming. Here. Now.

He felt as if he'd been plunged into an icy lake. “What about you?”

“I'll be fine.”

“Jade...” he struggled with his words, unable to form the full completely questions that swirled in fragments in his head.

“I don't know,” she told him urgently. “I really don't. But you can't be here when they arrive. Go.”

Luke's entire chest constricted. He nodded, unable to do anything else. Then, heedless of the consequences, he slid a hand into her hair and let the other grip her hip. Desperately, he pulled her into a fiercely possessive kiss that said everything words could not. He felt her hands fist in his tunic as she met the intensity of the kiss. Then she ripped herself away from him, yanked her hood up and was gone.

Clear skies, Jedi.

May the Force be with you, Mara.

Shaking off the wrenching of his heart with effort, he dropped into his Commander persona with the reflex of too much practice. “The Imps are coming – we've got less than an hour to get off this rock.”