Rivals Prompts
@depizan asked: SWTOR: 8, 15 GW2: 6, 21
This is part 2 of the “SWTOR 8″ prompt I was given. References to slavery in this, oblique references to potential rape.
“Happiest” is here.
SWTOR 8 - Happiest VS Saddest (part 2 - Saddest)
The Sith gathered his robes about himself and sat down upon the couch, his movement so slow that his companion thought she could hear his body creak. Yet there was a certain grace to it, a soft sliding of the Force around him as he moved, that spoke more of control than of age. He was one to always be wary of, regardless of his seeming weaknesses.
His pink lekku twitched as he softly began to speak.
“I believe I have four children,” he said, looking nowhere in particular. Perhaps those purple eyes were looking into the past. “My sunny girl was pregnant at least four times, though on the last viable one she was sold to a new owner. I never learned if the baby survived until birth.”
“And the others?” Amidst the dark trappings of a Sith household the silver teaset laid out on the low table before them was something of an incongruity; a spot of civilisation and light in the clouds of terror and darkness emanating from the black and red relics placed about the room.
The Sith waved a scarred, weary hand.
“My owner kept very detailed livestock records, but they ceased when the children were sold to less meticulous people. You see, my Master already had too many mouths to feed, and once children were weaned, they were another source of income.”
“So why have them? Why give your owners the satisfaction?” Her voice remained cordial and light as she reached for a small sandwich.
The scarred and branded face twisted into a sad smile she could not see, but she felt its sorrow in waves.
“Sunny and I loved each other, and we had little option in contraceptive choice. She said she would rather bear my children than any others’ - always a concern when you’re a slave.”
“Yes.” That she knew too well. “So, Lord Errin’rae - if you pardon my presumption at asking - why haven’t you found them? Your sunny girl or your children, I mean.”
“I have tried.” A note of steel crept into the soft voice; irritation, perhaps, or anger. “But the galaxy is a big place and frankly few in the Empire really care about the fate of Twi’lek mining slaves. But I will continue - quietly, so as not to put them in any danger before I can protect them, because of who I have become.” He beckoned with a hand and obediently the teapot began to refill his cup. “More tea?”
“Yes, please.”
Errin’rae and Jarsan - the two in this little piece - both know the sadness and horror of being slaves within the Empire. Jarsan came to it after becoming an adult, in more or less voluntary ways, but Errin’rae had been brought up as a slave, being taken from his family as a baby.
His face is scarred almost beyond recognition - branded and rebranded with the marks of at least three different owners before he reached adulthood. The skin is tough and tight, making him even less emotive than a bowed slave would be.
He’s not a slave anymore, but he often recalls with regret the powerlessness he had when he lost his love and his children. He tries not to think of the horrors of his own childhood, but they do give him quite a starting point from which to channel his dark powers from.
