#emerald drabble

[primeemeraldheiress]

For the first sentence ask: "You know, it really IS a very pretty color."

"You know, it really IS a very pretty color."

Jay hummed in agreement as she made another line. "I've been trying to find a lipstick in just this shade for months."

Damian swung his blade and meaty thwack echoed through the room. He looked thoughtful. "I am sure that Mother could recommend a brand. Or have one made."

"I am loathe to ask your mother for anything, habibi."

"Our mother." He corrected her swiftly. "She would love nothing more than to dote on you if you would let her."

Jay grimaced. "Sure, brat." She turned back to her designs.

[primeemeraldheiress]

"Oh dear, that probably shouldn't be on fire"

First line fic ask

"Oh dear, that probably shouldn't be on fire." Alfred's voice drifted down the hallway - tense in a way only the family would ever hear.

Jason closed his eyes and cursed silently.

This was just supposed to be a quick run. In and out to get the handful of things he wanted out of the manor.

Ghostlike, if he was feeling morbid. (He was.)

But he wasn't sure he could just leave when Alfred sounded like that.

A noise like wind and a startled British curse had him moving before he had made a conscious decision.

Well, no plan survives first contact with the enemy... or fire.

Fuck.

[primeemeraldheiress]

First line fic ask-

“Sing to me?”

“Sing to me?”

In the stillness of the night, his whisper might as well have been a shout.

Obi-Wan swallowed, "Of course."

He took a moment before his lips parted, choosing his song. But there was only one that fit.

His warm voice filled the air.

In his lap, Anakin relaxed. Obi-Wan's fingers trembled as they brushed through dark blond hair. He was only smearing more red through the stands but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

The words in his throat wavered as each breath from Anakin's throat grew more shallow.

His song was as much prayer as it was comfort.

"Paiben juvetho seka ibli deoj forpai."

He could feel the sting of tears on his face in the wind.

Hold on just a little while longer.

The notes still hung in the air when Anakin breathed his last.

[primeemeraldheiress]

For the first sentence ask:

She was crying as she slipped from the room.

She was crying as she slipped from the room.

It was a silent kind of cry. One that left tracks on pale cheeks and an ache in her throat. The type of tears that have to be taught.

She pulled her sleeves down, over the blooming bruises on her wrists, and scrubbed at her eyes. Already forming the lies her lips would tell if anyone asked.

[primeemeraldheiress]

for the first sentence prompt: Even after his surroundings clear, he has no idea where in the galaxy he's found himself stuck this time.

Little late, but -- 

Even after his surroundings clear, he has no idea where in the galaxy he's found himself stuck this time.

Literally.

His feet sink into the soft pink clouds of a nebula and tears well in his eyes. Anakin crumples, curling up in the fluff and sobbing. Expelling the all the frustration and anger and fear he had felt moments before. 

The reason he had flickered. The reason he had wound up who-knows-where in a galaxy far far away.

He misses his jaieh, away on a mission with his own master. Still too young to take him. 

And he misses his mother -- he remembers the day he was torn from her, still far too young. The image of her face blurs in his mind and all he can recall of her is how she looked in the Force. How she felt. 

How warm her hand was on his cheek and how sweet her voice sounded. 

Light glitters from the tears as they fall from his eyes, flying away and embedding themselves into the glowing nebula around him. Gleaming in the darkness. The birth of stars. 

Anakin can’t bring himself to care. Not now. Not now but later... after a nap, he will. He will blow on them. He will feed them. He will shape them.

Wiping his eyes with the arm of his sleeve, Anakin burrows into the clouds around him and sleeps.

[primeemeraldheiress]

First sentence prompt: "It had been a long time since he felt this cold, but that probably wasn't a good thing."

He thought it must have seeped into his very bones -- deep under his skin. It made him yearn for the heat of the twin suns of Tatooine and the hot sand of the desert. 

He should move. He should get up and out of his wet clothes. He should make make the climb back to Obi-Wan and the Ilum Temple. But all he wanted to do was close his eyes. 

Surely a moments rest wouldn’t hurt. Surely just a moment... Just a...

[primeemeraldheiress]

First sentence ask: He calls to him at night, and Anakin can do naught but comply.

He dresses silently. Quickly. It doesn’t do to keep him waiting. Trembling hands smooth over pale thin-woven cloth -- the man’s last “gift” to him. His stomach rolls over at the thought but there’s little he can do.

He knows what it looks like -- what he looks like. 

At the back of his mind, something insidious whispers that it’s not wrong. 

He closes the door silently behind him. The least he can do is spare his Master the worry... he knows how guilty his Jaieh feels when the Chancellor calls. 

[primeemeraldheiress]

He knew the fight was over before it had even started and all he wanted to do was cry.

First sentence challenge! Have fun!

He stared into the eyes he had known for years. The eyes that had raised him.

When had it all gone so wrong?

The taste of copper coated his tongue and he knew, even if his opponent didn’t kill him, he was dead anyway. The harsh sound of his labored breathing rattled in his ears. 

He closed his eyes, feeling the sting of tears as they fell from his lashes, and let that voice wash over him. The feeling of comfort after a nightmare. Of warm soup when he was sick. 

Footsteps scraped on the ground, moving closer.

He kept them closed.