Have some more Sailor Moon/SWTOR AU-ness. It’s really all @askcarminelegacy‘s fault. I really have no idea what I’m doing. But hey, Blakk can actually be charming, what’s up with that?
She looked like a queen already, he thought, as he watched her mill idly along the edge of the starflowers. Rain pattered musically on the trellis above, but failed to penetrate its subtle shielding, giving the illusion that the lush vines were enough to keep the garden dry. Her pale hair caught the faint glow of the blossoms, seeming to shine in the dim light, pearly skin beautifully accented by the violet gown she wore.
Blakk wondered whether she’d come here with it, or whether it had been a gift from his father.
Clearing his throat, he stepped from the shadows.
“You look beautiful tonight, my lady.”
Her eyes fixed on him after a moment, gold under violet shadow, narrowing just a touch before she blinked the tenseness away. One fine brow arched all the same as she seemed to almost examine him. “My thanks. I wasn’t aware I was being graced with company.”
“My father requested I greet you properly. I thought we might have dinner together …?” He tried not to fidget under her gaze.
Something hard to define changed just slightly, and whatever it was did make her feel dangerous, little thing that she was otherwise. “Your father…?”
Her eyes narrowed again, and there was another notch up in the sense of danger. Uncomfortable, but certainly nothing he hadn’t been trained for. When he didn’t react, she pursed her lips a moment. “And will the king be joining us?”
A bit put out that she hadn’t seemed to recognize him, even after all these years of being acquainted, Blakk rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought it would be nice if it was just the two of us,” he replied softly, “but I can summon him, if you wish.”
The sense of danger quieted, her shoulders relaxing as she offered him a small smile. “No. I see more than enough of the king. Lead on, Prince…?”
Of course she wouldn’t remember him. Little wonder if even his own father barely acknowledged his existence.
“Blakk.” He forced the smile to reach his eyes, and offered his elbow to her.
“Blakk.” She repeated his name in a way he hadn’t often heard, the way she looked at him telling him that for once, he was being committed to memory. A delicate hand settled on his arm as she accepted his lead, inclining her head in a silent cue.
How ironic it would be his father’s…. whatever she was… who would finally acknowledge him.
Blakk’s smile broadened, and for once it wasn’t forced. He rested a hand upon hers and began to lead her through the small garden. “I’ve had the attendants put something together for us. I’m not sure what your tastes are, but I’ve had them replicate Korriban cuisine as best they can. I hope to have you feel at home while you’re with us.”
The duchess made a quiet sound of amusement. “Tell me, Prince Blakk, have you had the food native to Korriban before?”
Blakk paused, unsure what response she expected. “... Of course. I’m well educated in most planetary cuisine, especially those central to our Sith heritage …”
“I see.” Was that amusement in her voice? “Do you enjoy it?”
He managed to keep the hesitation minimal. “Of course! What kind of Sith would I be if I didn’t?”
“Well, that will make one of us, then.” Absolutely amusement, but it didn’t feel mocking. And wait, what was she saying…? “I find all but the alcohol rather abhorrent.”
Blakk had to stop and stare. Then everything he’d had made for her …
He earned an actual laugh, if soft. From his discreet inquiries, that was more than his father or anyone else had gotten. A victory, though it didn’t fix his predicament. “Your gesture was unexpectedly kind. Thank you all the same.”
He stared helplessly at her a moment, before sheepishly shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re welcome? If only I’d known, I’d … Frak, I hate Korriban cuisine. Shit - sorry, I mean. My apologies, my lady. I’ll … I’ll have them bring something else.”
She chuckled quietly, shaking her head. “I didn’t expect you to know. Your father is many things, but inclined to take what I say as truth when it differs from his own opinions is not one.”
Blakk’s first impulse was to defend his father, but it wouldn’t be helping his mission here.
“He is very wise,” he hedged instead, “but perhaps not all-knowing.” Offering his arm again, he continued to lead them to the private dining area he’d had set up. A small table with just enough room for two placed in a tiny nook in the garden, it was veiled from the main walkways by hedges of Tarisian roses, creating an intimate setting. A pair of ancient lanterns lit the entrance to the alcove. Blakk spared them a glance, hoping the warm glow would remain through dinner.
The duchess glanced at him from the corner of her eye, a wry little smile on her lips though she didn’t share the source of her amusement. She did let him seat her, ever graceful despite the length of her gown. “I see your father often enough, Prince Blakk. Perhaps the conversation, like the dinner, should not have him present.”
He blinked, a little taken aback. “Ah … all right.” Unsure what to make of that request, he finished sliding in her chair and stepped around to the other side. Tempted to call for some music to fill the silence, he had to remind himself that he was here for information, however nice the evening might seem.
“Tell me about yourself, Duchess,” he said, smoothing his dinner jacket and taking his seat. “I’ve heard so little about you.” The last was untrue - he knew much about her due to his father’s frequent visits … but she apparently hadn’t been aware of his presence after all.
She watched him a long moment, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them. “It’s impressive how you sound so honest when I know you can’t possibly be. Try again.”
“Excuse me?” Blakk stared at her. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Your dear father is rather obsessed with his belief I’m a princess, and I don’t believe for one moment that you haven’t heard quite a bit, either from him or from others.” She shook her head, the small smile on her lips looking much less gentle with the hardness in her eyes. “I was one of the most accomplished scholars the Korriban Academy had ever known. Please don’t do me the disservice of assuming I’m a naive little girl.”
Blakk coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, okay, you’re right; I know my father believes you’re a princess, and I’ve heard a few things about it, and you’re here for …” He trailed off. Was it for his father to court her, or was there the possibility - however slight - that just maybe his father would finally allow Blakk …?
He cleared his throat. “But you’re the one who didn’t want to talk about my father in the first place,” he pointed out. “I was only trying for alternative conversation.”
“We could talk about you,” she suggested, looking absolutely serious. Which was… she didn’t want to talk about his father, the king, yet…? “And you can tell me what you’ve heard of me, and I can tell you what’s the truth of it.”
“Or we could start from square one and assume neither of us has ever met,” which they hadn’t to her knowledge, “and pretend we’re perfect strangers meeting for the first time in a beautiful garden on a peaceful Dromund Kaas evening.” Which they were.
The duchess considered that a moment, then offered him her hand across the table. “Duchess Saare Carmine.”
Blakk took her hand, bending gracefully down to place a gentle kiss. “Prince Blakk. It is an honor to meet you, my fair lady.” He looked up, meeting her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone so extraordinary.”
She arched a brow, though the smile seemed much more sincere now. “Aren’t you charming? A lovely surprise. Do you meet a great deal of extraordinary people, Prince Blakk?”
“Certainly more extraordinary than me, and several.” His smile was genuine and slightly mischievous. “But none like yourself.”
Saare chuckled softly, bringing her hand back when he released it. “None like me, hmm? You make me terribly curious. There aren’t many who study the more archaic arts these days who aren’t dedicated Sith, I suppose, so there is that.”
Blakk nodded. “Of course. Not being true Sith myself,” he cleared his throat, mildly uncomfortable about the topic, “I’m afraid there isn’t a lot I understand about it. Care to educate me on some of the Academy’s secrets? Promise I won’t tell.” He gave her a wink.
“Hmm, less clear if you’re lying or not this time. Better.” Odd praise, but she seemed in good spirits still. Her eyes flicked to his chest briefly, then back to his eyes. “You’ll have to tell me what sort you mean. There’s a lot of skeletons on that planet.”
He sat back, considering. “Your favorite thing,” he stated. “Something important, or just interesting. The thing that … moves you most, that drives you to learn more.”
He seemed to have actually surprised her with that, though it was only clear in her eyes. She took her time considering that. “What moves me… that’s a question I haven’t been asked, I don’t think. I suppose, more than anything, it’s discovery. The act of it, the realization that I’ve grasped something new, even if only to me. The pursuit of knowledge, for me, is an art beautiful for its own sake.”
An attendant appeared bearing a small basket of bread and wine. Blakk waved him over, then ordered him to bring something other than the original meal he’d had planned - whatever was easy enough to make - and sent him on his way.
“And is there a particular … masterpiece that stands out to you? Something you’ve discovered that you’ve taken a personal fascination in?” He stood to pour her a glass.
“A masterpiece?” Saare steadied her glass with a touch of fingers along the stem, a small smile on her lips. “Nothing so grand as that. At least, I rather try not to tie myself to any single work. Though if it’s been banned, I’ve probably read it. Is that scandalous enough?”
Blakk’s lips twitched. “Frighteningly so.” Finished pouring, he raised his glass in a toast. “Regale me with scandalous details.” He watched her, eyes sparkling. Gods, she really was pretty in this light.
Saare chuckled, raising her glass as well and tapping the rim to his with a delicate clink before bringing it back. “Scandalous details? How scandalous?”
“The more scandalous, the better. You’re a lady of the court; you know those are the best kind.”
She smiled in a slow, almost lazy sort of way, inclining her head. “Too true. Did you know there are Sith who stay young by consuming the energy and vitality of others?”
“Really?” Blakk eyed her, not sure whether she was pulling his leg. “You’re joking, surely.”
“Oh don’t I wish it.” Saare shook her head, smiling faintly. “The Force is in all things, you’ve heard that line before I’m sure. And all Force users manipulate that. Is it such a stretch to say one powerful enough could manipulate the Force within another sentient?”
“... I suppose not … What’s it like? Using the Force, I mean, or having someone manipulate it inside you? Must be something pretty special.” Truthfully, Blakk had always been wary of the power. He never understood why his father had it and he didn’t; he wasn’t sure if he was just slow in that aspect of life or something was just wrong with him. But he couldn’t deny he’d had an intense curiosity about it - unfortunately, a curiosity that would never be fulfilled.
“Using it is generally more pleasant than having it used on you, with the Sith around,” she said frankly. “The best way I could describe it would be to say that having it is having an extra sense, for better and for worse. Not having it is the same, as you can either have the weakness of not having it, or use that to your advantage if you train yourself accordingly. I suppose that’s another scandalous secret for you - I rather like seeing non-Force-users learn to hold their own against the Sith.”
“But that’s … impossible.” Blakk shook his head. “Isn’t it? You know the future, you know where everything is, you can move faster than light … you can read minds and make people do what you want …” No non-user could possibly stand up to a Sith. Blakk had learned long ago to make himself scarce whenever his father was angry.
“That’s exactly why it’s so delightful to watch someone do it. It’s incredibly difficult, even the mentality - the assumption that one will fail, and the self-fulfilling prophecy after.” She took a small sip of her wine. “I am a Seer, Prince Blakk. My gifts of foresight are limited, but my understanding of it is well honed. You do see the future - of the moment. Of how things will be, if they continue on the paths they currently travel. It is very rare that someone truly sees an exact truth of what will come, so much that in their conviction they make it so. And so the same goes for the rest.”
“But even if you do only see the future of the moment, no one else does. They can’t know to change to make it different.”
“Do you paint a target on your back for a sniper because they’re already waiting for you anyway, or do you wear armor and carry a weapon?” she asked, shrugging. “The presumption that they are correct and infallible is the greatest weakness of all, if only someone dared to question.”
“But a normal sniper doesn’t use the Force. He can’t see the future, he can’t make you walk into his sights, and he can’t know with absolute certainty where and when to aim to kill you, even when you wear armor.” Blakk shook his head. “There’s a big difference.”
Saare tilted her head, considering him. “Do you fight, Prince Blakk?”
That was an odd question. “Of course I do.”
“Do you always allow your opponents to control your beliefs about their abilities or lack thereof?” She asked.
“... No …” He wondered where she was going with this. “I evaluate them for myself.”
“So if you heard someone had the reputation for never missing a shot, heard from numerous sources that they had never missed a shot - everyone who used that particular model of weapon, in fact - would you believe it?” She asked.
Blakk hesitated. “It might be a very good weapon,” he hedged, “but I’d be skeptical. They’d have to miss a shot at some point.”
“But we’ll assume this is some foreign thing, you’ve never used it,” she pressed, making a vague gesture. “All the experts in that field agree, they never missed a shot. Every recording to be found shows them hitting a mark. Would you remain skeptical?”
He could see now what she was getting at. “Maybe they haven’t, but I’d have to believe that they would eventually,” he replied. “But the Force is different. It isn’t just some foreign weapon. Weapons don’t predict the future, they don’t control people. The Force is the ultimate weapon.”
Saare inclined her head, though she may have just been acknowledging he made a good point instead of agreeing. “The ultimate weapon only does as much as the wielder knows how. A well taught Sith with little power could hold their own against a strong, but ill-trained one. If the Sith had no weaknesses, could not be defeated, they’d have won the war by now. You needn’t comment if it feels too blasphemous, that’s merely my opinion.”
Her fingertip traced the rim of her wineglass, and before his eyes dark droplets rose above the liquid, defying gravity with a power he knew even if he’d never felt it. “My very well informed opinion.”
Blakk was silent a moment, before murmuring. “All we need then is the right person, and we could lay waste to the Republic planets.”
Gold eyes stared at him a long moment before she spoke, just as quiet. “That person isn’t me.”
So she’d caught him at his little game. He wondered about her continued denial, then smiled, more amused than anything. “Of course not - the Korriban Duchess has more important things to do than wage war. You’re a Seer. That, uh … that … um. What exactly does a Seer do, anyway?”
She chuckled softly. “And here by you harping on people using the Force to see the future, I’d assumed you were hinting.”
Blakk felt his face warm. “That part’s obvious … I mean, what do you do with it? Who do you tell? Are you advising military commanders, the Dark Council, the Emperor …?”
Saare chuckled, a wry smile on the lips. “Ironically, no one was terribly interested until your father. And quite frankly, if I wasn’t clear enough, I would be happy to go back to obscurity.”
“But obscurity is death in Sith society. Now’s your opportunity to prove your worth … to secure your power, your position and well-being …”
“I am a bird in a gilded cage and I will not sing for my captor, dear prince,” she informed him, quiet and deadly serious. “I don’t want to survive by the benevolence of another. I want to live. But it will be my life and my choosing.”
“It doesn’t hurt to make use of that aid,” he pointed out, earnestly. “Give yourself a chance - the rewards down the road will be all the richer for it. Surely you, especially, can see that.”
“Do you really want to know what I have seen, your majesty?” The duchess’ smile was off somehow, the sort of dark certainty of someone about to say something they thought was terrible.
Blakk hesitated, before shrugging. How bad could it be? Maybe the information would be useful to his father.
“All of this will burn.” She said it so matter-of-factly it took a moment to register what she was actually saying. “Wind will carry flame so hot that the metal will drip into pools on the ashes left of marble and rock. A path will be paved through this planet, and all in its way will perish in the flame. Fire is hungry, fire is voracious, and there is no deluge Dromund Kaas could produce that could stop it. That is what I have seen, so long as I am stuck here. And I do not want to be caught in that firestorm.”
Her eyes were serious, and there was a hard force behind them that had Blakk staring slack-jawed for a long moment.
She seemed surprised he actually asked her, though he supposed that made sense if no one had listened before. Still, her voice held a note of caution, perhaps that same disbelief. “Your father is going to try and use me as a conduit to summon powers that he can’t control. Unfortunately, if I were to tell him that, he would tell me with the absolute certainty of a Sith that he can control anything because, of course, he’s a master of the Force and I am clearly a princess. I do not want to be here if he gets this world set on fire.”
“So you are a princess, then,” Blakk pounced on her words. “That’s the only explanation for the powers you’re describing!”
Saare gave him a look that he was uncomfortably used to from his father, though at least she was looking at him, and not him. “You really do take his word as gospel, don’t you? Did it ever occur to you that he could be trying to awaken or find - or create - the princess of Dromund Kaas?”
Blakk wasn’t actually sure why his father wanted the princess he believed Saare was, other than to somehow use her power … but he was no stranger to the fact that his father had always wanted a daughter instead of him.
He looked away, fingers tightening on the stem of his wine glass. “Well of course he does. He never wanted me.”
“And you think bending me to his will is going to do anything to help that?” She asked. “Whether I am a princess or not, I am a woman capable of giving him a daughter, and I don’t think he’s above taking that for himself if I can’t give him anything else. Where does that leave you? What end to that do you see for yourself that means you want me here?”
It seemed they were done beating around the bush. Blakk saw no reason not to answer truthfully.
“Because if my service leads to that … he’ll see that I’m useful. He’ll have to acknowledge me.” It was a win-win situation, as far as Blakk was concerned. And service to the Sith was the highest calling for someone in his position, regardless.
“You’re mad,” she whispered, staring at him in a long moment of silence. “Useful? Is that what they’re calling disposable these days? If he has a female heir, as you say he’s wanted, then you can be dismissed - disowned, likely killed so there are no complications. I lived and breathed Sith life since I was a child, Prince, I know their politics. Killing your own blood is another day at the office.”
Blakk scowled, face reddening. “There wouldn’t be any complications. I’m not Force-sensitive anyway, so any Force-sensitive child, male or female, will inherit the kingdom. Frak, even if there were no others, he’d be the mad one to give the kingdom to me. I have no birthright … not unless I give him a reason to want me.”
She was giving him a much more calculating look now. “That’s it then. My life into his hand to stay his hand from taking yours? You’d have fit in fine with the Sith. Maybe you should try some of their other methods.”
Was that supposed to be an insult of some kind? If so, she wasn’t very good at it.
“Is that so bad? You’d be a queen here … you could have everything you’ve ever wanted. Study anything you want with no repercussions, no worry about anyone stopping you. You’d be at the pinnacle of Sith society. You’d have the freedom to do - and be - anything you want!”
“So long as I danced to his whim, certainly.” She shook her head, leaning back in her chair. “I will not dance to his tune, and I’d sooner die than pledge myself to him. If I had the power, Prince Blakk, believe me, I would not be here.”
“You’d have the power to change him, better than I ever could.” The words were blurted before he could stop himself, the closest he’d ever been to admitting how much he wished he could do the same.
When he dared to look at her, he could see nothing but shock in her stare, the anger that had been building draining away. “Gods help you, you really do love him. Don’t you?”
“Of course I do. He’s my father.” Dropping his gaze, he looked anywhere but at her. “Is that so strange?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen mine since I was a baby.” She shook her head, voice gentler. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do what you want me to do, Prince. I can’t.”
“But why not?” He brought his gaze back to her, eyes pleading. “He wants you. He wants you more than …” Breaking off, Blakk cleared his throat, shrugging helplessly. “It would make him happy.”
“It will get him killed,” she corrected softly, sounding so damned sure of herself and so stupidly sorry for it. But not sorry enough to give in. “He wants a puppet with my body, perhaps. He wants to break me and remake me to his purpose. But Blakk, I won’t break. If he succeeds, I will shatter and be gone. He can’t have me. I think that’s part of what makes me appealing, for now, is the struggle. But once he realizes he has to use force… things will be very different.”
“You’re the princess he’s looking for, then,” Blakk murmured. He had his answer. She all but outright admitted it. He could return to his father with exactly what he wanted.
“I’m not his princess any more than you are,” she said, sounding strangely tired. “But if I am locked any tighter, people will start dying either way. I am Sith. I have been kind. I have been patient. But I will not be caged much longer. You have to ask yourself, if I am the princess, are you willing to bet your father’s life that he can tame me?”
Blakk was silent for several minutes.
“My father knows what he’s doing,” he finally said, softly.
“So be it.” She shook her head, rising. “I’ll return to my cage, then. You can leave with your assumptions. Don’t come back.”
