Private The Apple

[Ellie Mors]

Young God

Cold.

The sands of the sith tomb under the tundras of Ziost were sheltered from the ice above, but the damp walls of the cavernous expanse were still frigid to the touch and the draft that carried in was bone-chilling at the best. A low fire hung over the ceiling above, illuminating the small room with a reddish-brown hue while spreading some modest amount of heat over its small space. The walls were wrought of stone, covered in ancient Sith hieroglyphs that were fading with advanced age, and the ground was a fine, golden, sand that resembled nothing of the world above. A soft pitter-pattering of moisture dripping from condensation could be heard echoing from somewhere far off, but there was only a slight draft, from fissures in the ground that allowed some air to leak into the crypt, to hint at a connection to the world outside.

Bastion had been an unforgiving fight.

Quinn Varanin lay near a wall, an old blanket thrown over her for added warmth, in more or less a heap. Vesta stood not more than a few paces away, his expression stony and irritated as much was weighed on his mind. A night or two had passed since he'd vanished with her and brought her deep into this hidden sanctum, his sword still leaning against the wall where he'd sat it when he'd moved to lay her down. Not much had been said between the two of them from then til now, the first day had largely been sleep and the second wasn't much more than a few awkward apologies and implications of understanding. Now it was the third, and the events of their fights were slowly starting to come to the forefront of the Sith lord's mind as he contemplated his steps forward from here.

Word on the outcome of Bastion hadn't reached his ears, his thralls nearby had determined that the fighting had only intensified after he'd created the vergence in the force in Ravelin. Initially he had intended to deposit Quinn here and return to fight until the conflict was over, but her condition had made a turn for the worse following her initially recovery. He'd been standing by her side ever since. He recalled that instinctual feeling, that connection, between the two of them that had felt far more intimate than the already invasive bond he shared with his father. Where she had felt sand burying her, he could feel that same weight - where she had began to feel suffocated by debris, his own became labored. Red eyes glanced down at the Echani, wondering if his suspicions were true, the ramifications of such brushing aside much of his concerns he'd had for her well-being.

"You awake?" He asked, his voice low - he hadn't had the chance to say much in quite some time now.

A rare occurrence, to be sure, however it wasn't wholly a covetous status for many to be as one might have expected - advantageous in theory, but in practice it blurred the lines between two individuals. It was perhaps even this closeness, this oneness, that put him in this somber mood in the first place - he would have, should have, been enraged with her for not listening to his warnings, for getting hurt after they'd spoken at such lengths on the importance of the two staying safe for the sake of the other. Instead he felt some degree of guilt, even some of her fears, leaking into him. He grunted, stepping away from the spot on the wall he'd been leaning against, and walked over to grab at the hilt of his sword. He held it aloft, swinging it noisily through the air before looking back at her, sighing.

"It seems I was wrong about you."

He leaned forward to set the sword back down against the wall, its blade pointing down into the sand, before rising back up to look back at her.

"About us."

He paused after that, there was the instinctive worry - that paranoia that he was saying something entirely different than what he knew himself to intend touched upon his mind. He frowned. That confirmed it. "I thought I had spared you because of a fluke, that my infatuation with your physical... nature.. had pierced through my resolve on the night we had met." He said, scowling at himself as he began to explain his meaning. "My obsession with you - with perpetuating and correcting the conflict our parents had - formed a bond between us in the force before we even laid eyes on each other."

His lips hadn't moved, the words seeming to flow from his mind to hers without even the mildest touch of the force - as if their psyche were now sharing the same space.

"A bond that should have been formed by our first night together was instead strengthened."

He shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"You and I exist as two different people, physically. But in the force.. we've become one."

"A dyad in the force."​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Ellie Mors //:

​

Quinn didn't remember much after feeling the cold stone settle and suffocate her form. Her mind did its best to force away her life's terrible fleeting moments before it threatened to expire. Still, she could feel the soil between her fingers and her master's strength, carving her out of her stone tomb. Sleep came too quickly for her as she felt the days pass by her. Brief moments of alertness allowed her to apologize and express her undying love for the Shi'ido. Promises of it never happening again followed, but they were promises she knew she would struggle to keep. ​

The Echani didn't question the happenings on Bastion. She feared the answer. For most of her life after leaving Eshan, Bastion had been where she had built a life. A small life, but it was one she cherished. It was all gone now, even if they were victorious. The surface of the planet would never recover, only knowing the death of its inhabitants. Quinn stirred, feeling the nightmares of the war creeping against her mind. ​

Peace was in this cold, but she found warmth under the pile of blankets he had given her. She wanted his warmth, but she knew he needed to protect them with her in this state. Knowing that Vesta was necessary with the forward command, Quinn felt guilty keeping him here. Though she was happy with that guilt, it meant that she could keep the Shi'ido with her and not defend their home. Instead, he was protecting her.​

His velvet voice caressed her ears; amber eyes fluttered open slightly as she starred through the small flame to see him. "Hmm?" It was all she could muster, her health had taken a turn for the worst only a day ago. Yet, she was a fighter, and she was already starting to look better than before. Shifting, she tried to wake herself up. It seemed her master had something to say. Quinn could feel it. There was something different - it worried her, but she prepared herself for it. ​

Looking at him, she watched his movements, the way his face adjusted to his thoughts. Vesta, despite being so quiet and reserved, showed much of his emotion on his face. Specifically, his brow. Quinn nodded as she tried to follow along with his thought process. What was he getting at? ​

Her voice quiet, weak as she responded, "What do you mean? How could a bond be created without us meeting?" A hand rested against her face as she tried to think. Did they meet before this? No, Vesta was created and not born as she had been. There would have been no way they could have met before their mothers took each other's lives. Quinn felt her mind waking up a bit more as she could feel his emotions as he had come to this conclusion. She had assumed it was her innate ability as an empath, but it was something more.​

"Vesta? I love you, that's why we share a bond. I'm not understanding." She moved from the blankets and reached out for him, hoping that he would reach back. Quinn could never explain the desire to be near him at all times. She shared his obsession - she needed him more than anything.​

 

[Ellie Mors]

Everything I Wanted

There was the lurch, the familiar shift in pressure - the fluttering in his stomach, the physical sensation of worry that brought faint pricks just behind his forehead as his eyes found hers. They never needed words to know when the other was needed, her hand reached out as he moved back towards her, the rustling of his clothes muffled by the echoes of the constant drip of moisture in the background. "It doesn't matter, Quinn." He said, his arms wrapping around her as he rested his chin against where her neck met her shoulder. "Just that we're together." His voice whispered, his hold growing marginally tighter, as he stared pensively into the wall behind her.

"Everything needs a purpose."

His voice had grown detached, and there was no telltale sensation of vibration in his throat to suggest it had been vocalized - instead it came distant, like the subtlety of the sound of condensation falling to the ground in the dark. "Not like a tool, or a plan.." Vesta tried to explain, drawing away from her as he spoke, his words clearly coming from his mouth as his lips moved. "A reason to be - all of us look for that, in some way, even if we don't realize it." His hand reached out, the sword he had laid against the wall drifting to his hand to be gripped gingerly around the hilt. "Some, like my cousin - or this sword - they devote themselves to a purpose, a singular reason for being. To spread the darkness from one edge of the galaxy to the other, the blade, and to preserve the Sith in the form truest to him, for my cousin."

He set the blade back down, against the ground, and gestured to the fire that gave them warmth, drawing more of its heat down to them, sparks playing at his fingertips. "Fire serves so many purposes, to immolate but also to give us warmth, or light in an otherwise pitch black darkness." He said as he curled his hand into a fist, the small embers dying as he smothered them in his palm. "Like fire, I feel I have many reasons to be here, that I am not bound by something as nebulous as purpose.. but if I had to identify the one single thing that keeps me tethered, Quinn Varanin , it would be you." His head turned towards her as he spoke, watching her features carefully, caught by her delicate intricacies.

"That is what we are to each other, Quinn. You and I are eternal, but more than just to each other, in the force, too."

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Ellie Mors //:

​

Quinn felt her tired body lean into his. She was so tired and craved his warmth. The fire had done well enough to help her fight any chills she had developed from an injury. Fingers pressed into his skin through his clothing fabric, she didn’t want to let go, fearing that he would disappear. Vesta’s words were confusing and hard to follow, but she watched him move, his lips move, and she became mesmerized. The urge to reach out, to feel the tenderness of his lips began to drive her insane. ​

​

Amber eyes never leaving his tantalizing crimson gaze while the flames licked his fingers. He spun a beautiful tale, explaining his attachments to this world, and the Echani princess nodded. “You’re my everything.” Quinn didn’t have much, and she could see that under everything, neither did Vesta. There was something more between them than the love that they shared. It felt as if everything that had happened led the Zambrano heir to find her.​

​

Circumstances aside, Quinn knew that she was destined to walk this journey with Vesta, side by side. A soft smile curled her lips as she leaned forward. Her body ached, but she did her best to hide it behind the tender smile that belonged to Vesta, her eternal lover. Fingertips brushed his warm skin and over his lips as she pulled herself closer. “You’re my fire, my purpose,” Quinn spoke breathlessly as she moved closer, pulling his face to hers as she took in the same breath he gave. “Let me be the sword you wield, let me be the shield to protect you, and let me be the air that gives you life.” ​

​

The need to feel her lover pushed her forward, hands grasped his clothing. She pulled him closer with the little strength she had from resting. Lips pressed against lips as she pulled him into the kiss. She wanted to emphasize her purpose to him. She wanted to make all his dreams come true. If she was to walk beside him, she would be useful.​

 

[Ellie Mors]

Everything needs a purpose.

He'd only said the words just moments before, but here - now - he found the warm touch of Quinn Varanin to be purpose enough for him, even if only for the moment. She held him tighter and it nearly distracted him, he only barely managed to keep his cool until he had nothing left to say. Caught in her beauty, as he had been so many times before, it was as if he was staring into the most beautiful gem in the entire galaxy for the first time. Flawless, some would say, but to him there was beauty even in that. To be thrust into a world that expected so much of you, to know and have so little, the simple possessive claim was more true than she could ever know.

"Always." He agreed quietly - she really was his everything, if the Empire were to fall tomorrow and he'd be given the choice between fighting for control over the reigns of the Empire or living quietly with her then he would have chosen her every time without even the briefest of hesitations. And what more could he say? For as twisted as things seemed to be, and to some degree him as well, there was love there, something that ran deeper than just an infatuation and seemed to pull them together even tighter than whatever sort of bond they had. It was typical of him to overstress the kind of connection the two had and completely miss the mark until it was smacking him in the face - and her feelings, which drew out his own, did exactly that.

"You mean more to me than anything." He whispered back, his words breathed into her - muffled as their lips met, though he didn't care to speak anymore by then. Her tiredness, her fatigue, vulnerability, had been the reason for their isolation, for his seclusion of the two. There was not a soul in the galaxy he could trust beyond her, and there were none he could let care for her except for himself. For the longest time he had only held himself to one purpose, to one vision - a dream of revenge on those that had engineered the conflict that had taken his mother away from him before he could ever meet her.

And then he met her.

Here, now, with their bodies intertwined, the force heavy in the air, he only had one dream - to give her all he could. Body, mind, and soul - but success and freedom, too. For the first time in his paradoxically short life, Vesta felt the force flow from his body into hers from every point of contact they held - their lips, their dancing tongues, roaming hands and all the rest. Healing. Through the dark side there was only one manner of healing to give, and it was at the expense of another - but he held fast, burying the phantom pain that coursed through him as he was overwhelmed with a sensation that was a tidal wave of emotion that completely dwarfed whatever meager pain such a trade of health could offer.

Love.