Royal Chambers

"It didn't change," he said, groaning slightly as he sat up. "I'm more aware of the pain, since it doesn't go away, but my tolerance seems to be about the same."

He was vaguely aware of the sheet that was still stuck to his back, where some of the deeper scratches had drawn blood.

"Not that I'm complaining, mind. That was intense in all the right ways."

They both looked a mess, Eralam observes. Though he hasn't realized it at the time, a part of his brain apparently had the presence of mind to avoid marking her face and neck. That was probably a good thing. Appearing in public with a mass of hickeys where her neck was supposed to be might make people suspect their Emperor was up to something.

"How's your new setup working?"

Eralam knew that this question would come sooner or later, and he knew that Sin had a right to know. So he had done his best to prepare and practice and rehearse. The sequence of events was laid out in a logical order, with helpful commentary on what he was feeling at the time, and overall, he was convinced that it didn't bother him anymore.

So naturally, it hit him like a knife to the gut, and his whole body stiffened momentarily. Nope, not ready, not going to happen, tell her to ask ano-

"It's a long story, Sin. Might as well get comfortable."

-ther time? Too late.

They both shifted slightly, making sure nothing was going to jab uncomfortably or fall asleep or whatnot.

"The events that led up to my demise started on Manaan..."

And so the story went. He told her about picking up Kuroro, the dead waiter that she had murdered on reflex. How they had fled the planet, and his realization that she was dangerously obsessed with him. He told her of their arrival on Dac, and of the brawl in the streets that resulted from meeting the being known as Diva. There was a little bit of exposition about Diva's nature, as some of the details didn't make sense without the proper context. Then was their escape from the watery world, and how he and his passengers had agreed to embark on a quest to raze Adarlon. He explained how every attempt to broker a temporary truce between the beings on the ship never resulted in more than a few hours' worth of peace, as both Kuroro and Diva sought to dominate the situation and gave no thought to the fact that they were in a pressure vessel in the middle of hyperspace.

And then came the fun part, as he laid out the final moments.

Diva had, somehow, grown weak, and had required a source of energy. In an attempt to earn her loyalty, he had sacrificed a portion of his body and his power so that she might live. Kuroro, the jealous, petty thing that she was, stole the crystal and ate it. That incarnation of Diva had died in blue flames, while Kuroro enjoyed her fleeting triumph and Eralam despaired. There was too much energy in the crystal for it to be shattered without exploding with the force of a few dozen tons of baradium, and when it went, there was nothing left.

"Next thing I know, I woke up human."

Truthfully, it was the scars that were occupying his attention. By turning his attention to her body, Eralam was able to distract himself from the the tale of misery and woe. Sure, it lent a detached air to the telling, but that was probably a good thing.

They had traded the usual stories of battle and bloodshed, so he knew the story behind many of them. There was one set, however, that she had always been reluctant to discuss: the thick, ropy remnants of what looked like a scourging.

"What happened here?" he asked, tracing his fingers over the area in question. "You've implied that there was a story there, but never got around to telling it."

For nearly a minute after Sin finished speaking, Eralam was silent. Somewhere during the story, he had passed straight from disdain to blind rage to the sort of cold detachment that had always preceded his best work. It was in this state of mind that the nightmare memories that plagued his dreams were born, and more disturbingly, it was the first time since becoming human that he had achieved it.

Of course, one would be hard pressed to tell, looking from the outside. He continued to gently caress Sin's body as she spoke of the unforgivable acts visited upon her. His heart rate was a constant, steady thump, and his breathing was as calm and rhythmic as the tide. The only way to tell, short of the Force, were the eyes. Had he been a Sith, prone to using the Dark side, they would have been sulfur yellow. Instead, it was as though the spark had been sucked out. These were cold, mechanical eyes, more suited to a soulless machine than a living human. And when he finally spoke, his voice was just as flat and lifeless.

"Maybe I'm missing something, but historically, the Sith sought power above all else. They strengthened themselves through pain, yes, but they recognized the power of the passion borne through love as well. The Jedi of old divorced themselves from it and the attachment it led to specifically because love was an easy path to the Dark Side. The desire to protect and the fear of loss are two of the most powerful emotions known to the sentient races, and those that would deem them weaknesses know nothing of them. Love can be exploited, yes, but so can any other source of strength.

"The lesson to be learned here is not that love is a weakness. The lesson is that petty tyrants will always seek to destroy what they cannot control and cannot understand, and that cowards will always bend their knee. That Feral used you to punish Reverance and Vitiosus is despicable, but the fact that they stood for it is the far greater crime. They that would call themselves Lord do not allow the one they claim to love to face the lash to satisfy some insignificant pissant who will go down in history as nothing but another stepping stone on some harlot's rise to power. They would bend the universe to their will to save the one they thought so worthy of their attention, or they would die trying. To accept anything less is to declare oneself a sycophant, and no matter what they do, they will never outlive that shame. They allowed you to suffer in their place, and they allowed you to die. That is not Sith. That is just pathetic."

The sight of unshed tears cracked through the icy armor that had been wrapped around the fallen Whill's soul like a bullet through a sheet of glass.

"Wait, Sin..."

He grabbed her arm, but gently enough that she could still break away if she had to.

"Look, I'm not mad at you, it's just..."

Eralam sighed, trying to find the words.

"The thought of someone hurting or using you like that... I know it's part of your past, and I know it helped make you who you are to day, but that doesn't mean I have to thank the ones who put you through it. You're precious to me."

The eyes that were moments before so lifeless and cold were now alight with concern and compassion and pleading and more than a little sadness as he silently hoped she would understand what he was getting at.

Getting up and moving was definitely an exercise in discomfort. Never mind the fact that he wasn't entirely sure that his lover's mood had improved much, the fallen Whill was learning firsthand that some things that seem really fun at the time can bite you on the ass later. Come to think of it, there was actually a bite mark on his ass (more hip, really, but who's gonna tell?) that was smarting something fierce. Still worth it, he thought to himself. Now I just need clothes.

Unfortunately for Eralam, he hadn't thought to pack a robe, and he wasn't about to try to borrow one from Sin. Fortunately, his shorts had escaped the fate of his T-shirt, which was now spread across the room in barely recognizable tatters and scraps of cloth, so he slipped them on and joined her in the kitchen. The snack, as it turned out, was a simple bran muffin. Eralam secretly suspected that she was still feeling a bit masochistic.

He fished out a chunk of melon and some prosciutto, operating on the hope that it would be tasty enough to overcome the dreadfully plain muffin's proximity.

By the time they finished their snacks, sunrise was only a couple hours away. As much as Eralam would have liked to stay, it was drawing close to time for him to leave. The Estate would awaken soon, and it wouldn't do for some member of the staff to accidentally stumble across them.

"As much as I hate to say it, love, it's about time for me to head out."

Eralam returned the hug, kissing Sin on the brow. It was clear that the center couldn't hold indefinitely, if for no other reason than because fatigue would get the better of them eventually. It hadn't been too bad before; since no time passed from the perspective of the person doing the traveling, taking a nap had always been an option. Now though, they would have to take that into account, as well as scheduling around their all too often hectic lives. At best, they might be able to pull this off once every few days without the affects being noticeable.

"Indeed. Call me when you get a free night. In the mean time, I'm going to see if we can't figure out a vacation of some sort."