Bit of a Star Wars blurb that I typed up before going to bed.
Warnings ahead for blood and mentions of injury
Dreams...a Sith didn’t dream.
She picks her way down an uneven staircase, riddled with cracks, water plipping from an unseen source and striking stone surfaces. Eons of endless dripping has worn little crevices into the stone steps.
Ah...how fantastic to consider..the strength of a tiny droplet!
She finds herself in a dimly-lit room. Down here, the air is stagnant and stifling; it burns her throat and she fears choking if she stays here too long. No comforting breeze stirs the dank chamber. Her cloak and trailing train of her robes remain where they fall, tumbling over her feet and surrounding her in a swathe of silky fabric. Her earrings tremble only when she inclines her head to look at the prisoner. The one kept here in the dark, stale quietness.
He’s asleep, and he’s dreaming.
His head is tipped down, nearly brushing his chest. He stands upright, at an awkward, stooped hunch. Shackles on his wrists and ankles keep him from lying down on the cold floor.
She’s surprised, honestly, that he can sleep at all. If it had been her in this Jedi’s place, she’s certain the coppery taste in her mouth, the rancid scent of blood, or the searing burn of torn flesh would’ve kept her wide awake. But he dangles, eyes half-closed and flickering.
Syllic is his name, and she’s thankful that he’s managed to find some peace.
She can reach into his dreams, see them as she might her own (if she dreamed), and he is far from the bloodied slashes in his bare back, far from the scarlet-splattered tatters of fabric that dressed him, far from his blood-matted hair and bruised wrists and ankles....
...He sees a little Nautolan, robed in a style similar to his own. She is happy and he walks with her through the winding halls of a place the Sith had never seen before. Syllic is happy with her and this strange building. The Sith can feel his happiness and...dare she say...love.
Jedi weren’t meant to love, she knows. This had been long-held by Sith and Jedi alike. Sith weren’t known for it, either....but...ah. She has an apprentice and she can lie to the Order and her fellow Sith...but never to herself.
Perhaps Syllic would understand, if she bothered to tell him. Perhaps he could understand the complex nature of love...how it offered up another as more important than one’s own desires and fears..
To tell him, though, would mean waking him, and she...doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet.
The Sith turns and gathers her robes, making for the stone stairway and the cool, fresh air that waited outside. When Syllic wakes up, he’ll be met with cold, unforgiving darkness and a fire that flickers over his skin and bones, devouring thoughts of joy and hope.
Let him dream, then.
Let him dream while he can.
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Syllic and Nautolan padawn belong to @supesofherown
