Once Upon a Dream

[Judah Lesan]

Buried well beneath the dunes of Korriban lay an old tomb long forgotten by time and those who claimed to follow the dark side. What the Sith were of today was unknown to Darth Vizios as he had been kept asleep and preserved by the force itself. The dark side behaved in ways which were mysterious, and rarely could anyone explain it. All that could be explained was that Xander Bkackmoore, Sith Knight, and King of the Indupar Crown Worlds had been trapped for over 800 years. Unlike the dead, there was no sarcophagus to portray just how wealthy he was, or to embellish his great accomplishments. The tomb was not even his own. Instead it was a prison of his lust and greed for power.

For a number of years after becoming a Sith Knight, Blackmoore had spent time searching for specific artifacts. One such was always worn around his neck, an amulet enchanted with another man's essence. The other, for it had a match, had been given to his assassin lover, Dangereuse Von Balis. While it was not needed to make either desire the other, the amulets drew the two to each other in passionate displays of desire. A collection is what Xander had felt compelled to discover, the first find being of a sword hilt, another being a key. An old key which required one to insert it into a hole and turn the mechanism. Xander had done this in search of the ultimate prize, the secrets of the Dark Lord who had created this hunt. Without Dangereuse, however, it seemed the search had been in vain as the Dark Lord was simply looking for hosts to service him and his mistress.

The failure to see what the venture had truly been left Xander trapped, yet the dark side chose to preserve him as he had been. His hair did not grow, his face remained clean. Youth was preserved, though in years he was older than most. This would not matter though as the tomb was buried beneath dunes as deep as some the galaxy's many oceans. Darth Vizios, a man gifted with farseeing, had not seen his own end, and there was no one to sing the songs which were the tragedy of Darth Vizios.

[member="Firenne Van-Derveld"]

 

[Firenne Van-Derveld]

There were those who had expressed their doubts about the expedition as it set off into the desert, with the intent to explore tombs that had been plundered and emptied over the millennia. But since the planet was held by the Republic, there were some few archaeologists permitted to work on the planet, looking to add to the historical record. They were not given free reign, of course, their proposed research having been approved and stamped from the Republic and the Council alike.

But, for all the strict rules, regulations, and heavily armed guards that were everywhere the eye could see, Firenne still found it all marvelously exciting.

Of course, anyone only a few months removed from a quiet, scholarly life in a convent would think so.

Her cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the air and her own energy as she stepped down from the transport onto the radiant sand. The uneasiness she had felt in the pit of her stomach only grew as she walked to join the others, one hand clenched tightly on the leather strap of her bag. The other lifted her scarf to cover her nose and mouth as a gust of dry, hot wind kicked up the fine granules from beneath their feet. Ears strained to hear over the sounds of the vehicles and soldiers around them, as the lead archaeologist was explaining the day's schedule.

There was nothing left of worth within the complex of tunnels and chambers they were to catalogue and map, but there were inscriptions, etchings, and even some few carvings left. Those were to be her task...measure and sketch the carvings, take plenty of holopics, and then recreate them upon the expedition's return for further study.

It didn't take long for them to descend into the relative cool of the tunnels and begin their work. Firenne set her bag down in the center chamber with the others' things, taking only her large datapad with her as she meandered through the site. It was, in her estimation, several hundred years old, and save for being plundered, had not seen active use in all that time. There were doubts that anyone had even made use of this particular set of tombs, for there were no traces of sarcophagi or ash vessels anywhere to be found.

In the smallest of the chambers at the terminus of the longest tunnel, was a series of bas-relief carvings that were particularly more intricate and colorful than anything else. Firenne trailed her fingers along the characters carved along the edge of one scene, voice soft as she murmured under her breath. She went perfectly still as a low rumble echoed through the small chamber briefly, so briefly, in fact that she doubted it was much more than her imagination.

There was, after all, no equipment that could cause such a noise, and she was the only one working in the area-

-there it was again.

Louder this time, and she stepped back from the wall as it shimmered briefly and the stone...well, it rippled. Rippled as if it were made of liquid, the carvings distorting as if they'd been painted on the surface of water. The wall expanded and then contracted as if the chamber were taking it's very first breath of air, then pulsed once before it exploded outwards and caught her up in it. Her datapad clattered to the floor as it pulled her through the air and then through the wall itself.

Reality bent at peculiar angles for several seconds before snapping back into some semblance of sense, and she stumbled into a different chamber than the one she'd begun in. Nausea whirled through her senses, even as her silver gaze drank in the sight of the pristine, white-walled chamber. It was a simple square, roughly six meters by six meters, and a single source of light hovered up near the ceiling, which seemed to be made of the same smooth white stone. It brightened as she stepped away from the wall, illuminating the chamber and the cracked, charred altar that lay in the center. Darkness still rippled over the very top of it, shrouding what lay there from her vision as she cautiously approached.

Her unease had long since joined forces with her nausea, but they did not rouse fear within her, only a peculiar, strange sense of knowing. Knowing what, Firenne wasn't certain, but as she came to stand beside the waist-high stone altar, even that dark shroud receded and disappeared. She drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the body that lay there, clothed in a style that hadn't been seen in centuries, and yet was perfectly preserved. As was, in fact, the man that wore the clothing, hands splayed out at his sides without showing any sign of the decay of centuries that ought to be present.

Without thinking twice, she reached out and brushed the hood back from his features, fingers trailing along his forehead as she did. He was handsome, she thought, absently...and warm. That wasn't right. Her fingers returned to rest on his forehead, confusion writ across her features as she leaned over to take a better look.

~ [member="Xander Blackmoore"] ~​

 

[Judah Lesan]

Touch. Feeling. One of the five senses which was often used to bring about a sensation of pleasure. The sense warned of things which were too hot for the bare hand to handle, or water too cold to swim. This sense often reminded one they were alive. Not that it would do much for a dead man, but Blackmoore was not dead. Far from it. The simple touch to his head did more for the comatose man than could be observed with eye.

From the moment warm, gentle, soft fingers touched his skin, the heart of the Sith began to pound within his chest. The already beating heart grew stronger until its full strength had been restored. Lungs took in air, slowly at first, but soon each breath was deeper than what the coma had allowed. The force, the dark side surged through his muscles, strengthening them, removing centuries of atrophy which had rendered them all but useless.

Thoughts began to swirl in his mind. The echo of a feminine voice sang an enchanted melody in his head. Like a siren calling her prey to their death, this voice seduced Xander from his slumber. Eye lids flicked open exposing the blue orbs which lay underneath. The world welcomed Xander with a blur. His vision took several moments to focus, but when they did, his gaze fell upon an elegant, graceful, beautiful creature. The words she thought just moments before summoned to his mind.

His own thoughts now pressed into her mind as the dark monarch ripped into her thoughts with the strength of the dark side. Vizios would see what she had seen and learn what needed to without her consent. There was more to the Sith Knight than his seeming physical prowess, but the strength of his own mind rivaled that of any strong man.

"Handsome, many a beautiful woman has called me such moments before indulging in the delight of my company," his thoughts projected to her mind, latching to the force which laid dormant within her.

[member="Firenne Van-Derveld"]

 

[Firenne Van-Derveld]

~ [member="Xander Blackmoore"] ~​

Silvered orbs watched with rapt fascination as the man came back to life beneath her fingertips. It was if she could feel his heart thundering back to forceful life from it's sluggish slumber, as she watched his chest rise and fall with life-giving breath. Her own breath caught in her throat as his eyes opened, revealing orbs of cerulean blue that seemed to peer through her once they focused upon her features.

Firenne went perfectly still for several moments, even her thoughts halting their lost circular motions. There was heat inherent in that gaze of his, and her heart fluttered in her chest as if it was a caged bird longing to be free. There was a warmth suddenly coiled at the back of her mind that she had no idea what to do with, until the moment came that she realized it wasn't her-

-it was him.

He was somehow in her head, tearing through her thoughts with vicious intent, leaving pure, unadulterated pain in his wake. A cry tore from her throat as she stumbled back, trembling hands rising to press to her temples as if they had a prayer of ameliorating the agony. It felt as if her mind was on fire, awareness pouring in from more angles than she could fathom, her senses sharpening as they were dragged across a metaphysical whetstone before being thrust back into her head.

Firenne didn't stop moving until her back hit a pillar, and she managed to draw in a shallow, ragged breath. Pain was writ across her features as she stared, wide-eyed and unable to speak, though her mind went ahead and did it for her.

//How is this even possible? He's...this is...this a tomb...he's on a cracked and charred altar...I'm imagining this, that's it. I sat down to decipher something and I dozed off. You're going to wake up any moment now, Firenne, and this will all fade away...//

 

[Judah Lesan]

Firenne, the name was familiar. Xander's recall was a bit slow due to the effects of the coma still wearing off. The force still spread through his muscles reversing centuries of atrophe. While his body had been preserved to the exact appearance of shape and tone, the muscles had not been used. Whatever the force had done to put him in stasis, it was now reversing to allow him to walk among the living once more.

"Firenne," his smooth baritone voice echoed in the chamber.

The fact he called her name would instantly communicate her thoughts were open to him. The woman who had backed away in fear of what was happening before her eyes was now linked to Xander mentally. To his knowledge the woman had not projected her thoughts which caused him to be curious. Slowly the monarch stood to his full height, one which towered above the petite brunette whose escape had been stopped by a pillar. The pain she expressed would open her to the dark side. The force now evident as it pulsated through her very being. Xander was only motivated to press in deeper, to discover who she was. Whatever areas of her mind that held her deepest secrets, he would ravage to have them all.

Determined steps carried the regal Sith to where she writhed in pain against the stone collumn which supported the weight of the stone tomb. A strong hand gripped her jaw as he made her stand fully upright and look him in the eyes. His mind tore through hers until he had the answers he was after. The woman would survive, though the experience was sure to be the most traumatic of her young life. The innocence she had reeked of just moments before had surely been challenged.

"An innocent Van-Derveld? This is interesting indeed. The Firenne Van-Derveld I know would have taken advantage of my weak body laying on that slab and killed me, or used the situation to some other end."

Blue eyes then darted around noticing the apparent lack of entrance or exit to the chamber. Fixing on her eyes once more Xander finally released her mind from its captivity.

"It seems we are imprisoned together. Whatever it is you came here seeking, tell me. I know there are many questions running about in that mind of yours."

 

[Firenne Van-Derveld]

His voice echoed in the chamber, her name pouring through her ears like so much warm, poisoned honey. It reverberated within her skull, his tone plucking the strands of her mind until they broke and left her to clutch her head in her hands.

Firenne knew nothing but pain for several breathless moments, lungs refusing to draw in air as her hands rose to press tightly to her temples. There was no corner of her mind he left untouched, rummaging through her every memory and life moment before discarding each in turn. As if they meant nothing, he scattered them out of place, disrupting the neat order of her mind in one last act of violation.

She drew in a shallow, ragged breath, silver eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears as he held tightly to her chin. Shaking hands sought to push him away but found themselves resting instead against the strength and warmth of his chest. Unable to move her head, Firenne instead lowered her eyes, lashes shading her gaze from his as warmth rose to color her cheeks a deep rose.

The tension was palpable, and tainted the air between them. It bent, ever so slightly, as he released her mind, and the young woman managed to remember how to breathe. Her hands remained against his chest, keeping some small distance between them, in spite of her knowing that it wouldn't keep him away should he wish to press closer. Blinking, her gaze rose to meet his as he spoke, the words taking several long moments to sink in.

"I sought...nothing. I was in the chamber beyond that wall documenting the carvings. I...I'm an archaeology student. I don't know you...I don't know why you know my name." Firenne swallowed hard, trying to corral her scattered thoughts and draw her mind back to its normally ordered path and failing at every turn.

"Who are you? Why...why are you in here alone? How do you know me? I've never met you before..." she whimpered softly.

 

[Judah Lesan]

An archeology student, that comment piqued his interest. Xander knew it already, but her honest admission after having her mind completely ravaged was intersting. This was certainly not the [member="Firenne Van-Derveld"] he knew, two things were clearly different. He knew this as well. The way she was dressed it had been a long time, and from what he gathered from her thoughts, over 800 years had passed. Xander's clothing must have looked like something from her textbooks. He was living histroy now, everything, and everyone, from his life gone. At least the honest answers of the woman had earned her something, Xander would be honest with her as well. After what he had done, he had to earn some sense of trust if the two were to find a way out of the prison which held them both.

"I ripped your name, and everything there is to know about you, from your mind, surely you felt the effects of it. The way your chest tightened during the ordeal surely tells me so," Xander spoke as he turned back toward her. "And I might add it is a rather lovely chest indeed."

A smirk tugged at his mouth as he played at her innocence. The thought of being raised in a convent as an orphaned girl certainly was a different concept for Xander to swallow with the name she dared to carry. Certainly the truth of her lineage would upset her, disturb her, greatly. Xander was going to enjoy this very much so.

"I came here alone looking for something, the next moment, you were touching my forehead. As strange as it seems, that is the truth. I would not expect you to know who I am, but since I have your name, you may as well have mine. Xander Blackmoore, King of the Indupar Crown Worlds, Sith Knight. I have also been known as Darth Vizios. By what I can tell after shuffling through your mind, I have been asleep for 820 some odd years. I knew many Van-Dervelds in my time, and one of them was also called Firenne. Sith all of them, if you must know. You come from a long line of ruthless force users."

Xander stepped closer to her once again after his eyes had surveyed the room. There seemed to be no visible entrance or exit. It was a curious thing how she found herself in the room to begin with.

"Tell me, Firenne," the back of his hand gently caressing the soft, unblemished, skin of her cheek. "Do you believe in fate?"

 

[Firenne Van-Derveld]

A soft intake of breath was all the sound she could muster for the moment, her dark eyes wide with fear. It stole through her veins and fled along with the very warmth of her blood, it seemed, leaving her to shiver. She watched him, with all the intense care of prey watching a predator, her pale gaze sweeping across his form. Her hands rose as his words fell into her ears, a flush creeping along her cheeks as slender fingers sought to arrange her scarf over her buttoned shirt.

If there was one thing she was unaccustomed to more than any other it was the sort of compliment he paid to her physique. At most, Firenne had only been concerned that her form would be maintained properly for her continued health. She did not possess the vanity that so many of the other girls raised alongside her had. Those with families, who had something to look forward to outside the convent walls. To arranged, aristocratic marriages, social schedules, or even the freedom to do as they pleased once their families claimed them.

It would be a lie to say she did not carry envy for those who had loved ones waiting for them on the other side.

His name, however, put a stop to her rapidly spiraling thoughts. It sounded familiar, and it teased at the edges of her senses. Thought delicately creased her brow until her memory provided the answer and it stumbled past her lips in spite of the unnamed emotions attempting to choke her voice. “Your disappearance caused instability and infighting amidst those that remained behind. The echoes of it still ring amidst the great Houses of the Indupar Crown Worlds to this day. You’ve...”

Firenne swallowed hard, words and thoughts alike stalling as he stepped closer still, her hands pressing flat to the warmth of his chest. Of their own volition, her fingertips traced the edges of his ornate jacket, unable to suppress the fascination that warred with the warning cascading through her senses. The news he broke of her so-called family was a revelation that sent spikes of pain radiating from her mind and would have sent her slumping to her knees were it not for the next moment he offered.

Warmth unfurled and accompanied the peculiar sense of longing that the back of his hand trailed across her cheek. Lips parted as if to form a response but none emerged, her voice lost to the moment and the confusion of the sensations she didn’t understand.

“I...yes. I do...” she breathed softly, silver gaze rising to meet his through dark lashes, even as her head tilted into his touch slightly. “...why?”

 

[Judah Lesan]

So Xander had become history, a living artifact. Firenne touched him delicately, the wonder in her thoughts coming through the very windows of her soul. The color to her cheeks brought an arrogant grin to the monarch's lips. He gazed at her figure even more intently as she pulled at her chest as if to lock it from his view. He laughed. As though it were some elixir, the mention of his name calmed the woman as she looked over him as a relic to be possessed. Yes, her true nature, fascination of the dark king himself, the desire to possess the knowledge of history within his mind. He could sense everything.

His hand now rest just on her jaw line, his thumb caressing her cheek. Blue eyes rest on her silver orbs as his mind races with all sorts of possible outcomes to this meeting. From her own admission, his kingdom had succumbed to ruin as a result of infighting. The world had lived up to its way of doing things, and it waited now for his return. His estate would be the first part of his world to recapture, and Firenne would help him. Whether she knew it yet or not, she was his.

As if finally deciding what he wanted to do, Xander tipped her head back slightly as he pressed a kiss to her trembling lips. His mind was certain no other man's lips had touched hers before, a thought which brought a twisted satisfaction to the Sith.

"Then it was your destiny to find me here, for that moment. My lips pressed to yours, tasting the nectar untouched fruit."

His gaze finally fell to her hands which rested on his jacket. There was a fascination she had with it, as most clothes 800 years old would not be intact. His were in pristine order. Looking to her again he smirked.

"Remove it if you wish, I do not bite, hard."

As if promoting her to do so, Xander unfastened the first clasp for her, taking her hand to finish the rest. Sliding it from his shoulders, he left it in her charge. He would take something of hers though, the scarf around her neck. Lifting it to his nose, he breathed in deep, memorizing the scent of the woman it came from.

"So I was presumed dead, and my kingdom fell apart. Isn't it like the force to meddle no matter how much we try and make our own fate. If we do not find an escape, we shall both meet our end here regardless. Though I am sure many pleasures will be had before such an end would be able to consume us."

His words now mocking her innocence. Arrogant enough to claim he would remove it from her, it was his precise intent to do so.

[member="Firenne Van-Derveld"]