The Darker Side Of Life

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Ayvari Dorian"]

Kurt stood there, stunned.

He had never seen someone...disarmed before. The experience was entirely new, shocking, and completely jarring. For a moment he simply stood there, staring at the appendage. Ayvari's words were completely lost on him, her tone not even reflecting on his face as he simply watched the medical droids drag the girl away. For a brief moment Kurt wondered if he had done more harm than good, though he realized that if it wasn't for him the girl would very likely be dead right now. His lips thinned, his eyes catching Ayvari go.

That was when he stalled.

His mind began to race and finally he realized the gravity of the situation he had put himself in.

There was no way that he could escape, no way that he could change the situation, and no way that he could influence his host in any way that really would effect the outcome of these situations. He knew that he was in the belly of the beast now, and despite the mercy that Ayvari had shown, he was weary of...well her. She could kill him in half a thought, and those lightsabers? Those lightsabers would be enough to incinerate him in the blink of an eye.

He would have to be careful, very careful.

Slowly Kurt turned on his heel, wandering back towards the room where Ayvari was now waiting for him, not even noticing that he still hadn't put on a shirt.

 

[Lief]

Ayva had already poured two more glasses by the time Kurt entered the lounge; his shirt was folded on the sofa, her socks back on her feet, though Force knew where her boots were. She turned toward him, the rage from before nowhere to be seen, and offered out one of the glasses.

"Sit down" she said, before sighing "If you want to, I mean. You look as if you might faint."

She herself was feeling a little too restless to settle, ever so slightly pacing the same few steps in the corner of the room. Her hands fidgeted, and for the first time in a long time - their earlier tussle not included - Ayva felt sincerely awkward. Having somebody there, someone from the outside, who had never lived the life she had with its corrupting influences, had made her realize how painfully unordinary her actions had been.

Most people would talk things through. Instead she'd cut some girl's arm off to prove a point.

"I'm sorry you had to see that" she said, as the realization truly struck home. Kurt, from the looks of him, was older than she was, Ayva hadn't even seen twenty years yet and she could tell he hadn't experienced anything quite like that before. Yet to her? It was just another day. Even in the Jedi she had done questionable things, and the Wookie incident? Well, Ayva had been what... Eleven? Death seemed to surround her, sometimes she forgot that it wasn't a normal part of everyone else's life.

The colour had drained from her cheeks and Ayva moved to sit in an armchair, one hand running up through her hair. She couldn't even look in Kurt's direction. How different would things have been if the Jedi had never come to Ilum that day? If the Sith hadn't smuggled her away 'for her own safety.' She knew that they had lied, she knew even back then, but Xanxus had been so accepting of her, he took over the role of Father and Ayva thought no better of it.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Ayvari Dorian"]

He watched her for a time, staring in simple silence as she closed her eyes and rested within the chair. He couldn't tell if she was genuinely apologetic or simply trying to put on a show for him, though from the way she breathed and how she acted...he would have guessed that it was the former. His eyes wandered for a moment, searching through the room until eventually he came full circle back to her. He wondered about his options, thought about what he should do. The trip to Lianna would still take several days, at least two if he had to guess, there were no hyperlanes out here after all and it wasn't like Nar Shaddaa was famous for it's unique travel options.

That meant he would still be seeing quite a bit of Ayvari.

That also meant there might be more surprises.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, and slowly Kurt took a step forward. He found himself once again wondering why he was so terrible at decisions, wondering why he always chose to do the foolish thing. It was something he always did, something that he did while realizing it. Kurt knew that, he knew it as he began to approach her, knew it was he moved closer with every step and knew it as he came to her side. For a moment he lingered there, then his hand came down.

Kurt's fingers would lace on the side of her neck, trailing slowly down until he cupped her chin.

He would tip her head upward, a slow tilt, and then lean down. His lips would press against hers, a forceful kiss, as though he were trying to subdue her wayward thoughts.

 

[Lief]

He hadn't taken the drink from her, so she settled it onto the side and left it untouched despite feeling the urge to drink it herself. It was rare that Ayva was driven to alcohol, and she could picture Xanxus' disapproving stare from the depths of the Netherworld.

She could feel him stood there, staring; his thoughts were loud and intrusive but she didn't bother to focus on them too much. For whatever reason she'd developed a soft spot for the pilot, the thought of prying into his mind didn't sit right. Instead she leaned her head against one hand, propped up by the arm of the chair, and bothered herself with her own ponderous musings.

That was until she heard footsteps, which caught her offguard and had her eyes snapping to his almost instantly. A cautious frown settled upon her lips, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was going to attempt to further white knight Sohna... But he hadn't sought revenge after his own hardships, so why would he come to the defense of a girl he didn't know?

Her mind span in a thousand different directions in the time it took Kurt to cross the room; and when he took the final step she made a tentative shuffle back on the seat. Her apprehension mounted as he reached down toward her, only to be shattered almost just as quickly as his fingers trailed from her neck to her chin.

When their eyes met again her breath caught with surprise, then indignation as he forced his lips against hers.

Was he crazy?

She must have been too if that was the case, because she allowed the kiss to continue past her initial shock before her conscience got the better of her. There she pulled back, though one hand lifted to grasp his wrist - gently so he didn't draw back. Her expression was torn.

"Why would you want to come anywhere near me after what just happened?"

The words left her before she could take them back. Honestly she didn't want the moment to end, she wanted her mind away from it all, to lose clarity for a while. To simply be Ayva, rather than Xanxus' student. But she couldn't help but feel guilty at the same time, was he doing this just to try and please her? To distract her?

She didn't want anyone's sympathy.

Her soft grip remained on his wrist, and she had to refrain from pulling him closer; whether it was selfish of her or not, she didn't want him to walk away.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Ayvari Dorian"]

"I'm not a Sith." Kurt began. "I'm not a Jedi. I'm not a hero or a villain."

That was certainly all the truth. He might have fought the One Sith before, he might have worked for the Republic and even killed for them, but Kurt had never considered himself anything great. He had been a champion back on Tatooine, three time winner of the Boonta Eva Classic, but even that...that paled in comparison to the galaxy at large. He was famous back home, but out here? Here in the galaxy? He was absolutely nothing, absolutely no one. That had never really bothered him, in fact it was an excuse, it was something that he was neither ashamed nor proud of, something that he could reference and pull back to at a time like this without a care in the world. "I don't like things like that."

Kurt went on to explain.

"It seems pointless to me. Cruel. Perhaps even evil." There had been a reason for it though. "I don't know how to deal with things like that. How to respond or react, but I saw the way that you dealt with them. I saw the way that you're dealing with it now. You didn't like doing that. Maybe because you have a fondness for her or maybe because the violence isn't really you, but I know you didn't enjoy it."

That meant something, or so he thought. "So I dealt with the situation the only way I know how."

He would offer her comfort, reinforcement, a press of that ideal. It might have seemed odd, it might have seemed broken in a way, but it made sense to him. Kissing her, touching her, perhaps even sleeping with her was a way to strengthen those core ideals within her, bring her joy in association with the touch of mercy that she had given. It was better than screaming at her, then offering some sort of self-righteous speech about how one shouldn't harm the weak.

It was the best that he could do.

"I'm just a man." He finished. "A simple man with a knack, and if I can use that knack, if I can bring you a bit of joy, distraction, pleasure, then I will, because of the mercy you showed."

 

[Lief]

His explanation should have been a comfort. It should have cleared up some of the confusion. Instead it left her with a thousand more questions she didn't want to know the answer to.

Her hand began to ease up on his wrist, until just her fingertips touched the skin. He had gotten one thing right, Ayva did not like hurting others. She never had, though she had done so anyway on the orders of others. Her Master, her Emperor. To her it was just another duty that was to be expected, she had become numb to the sight of death, to the actions which caused it, many years ago.

But that was no excuse for her actions. Croshim and Xanxus were gone. Ayva had no Order to follow the commands of. All she had were the lessons she had been taught, the students she had been left with, and the ideals of an Empire long gone.

Ayva stared up at him intently, noting every little detail about his expression, focusing on the emotions behind his gaze. Then she looked away in shame.

"Had you not been there today, there would have been no mercy. I was raised to view mercy as a sign of weakness. Yet you come out of nowhere, so brazen and bold, and you turn all of that on its head."

How this would impact her future, Ayva did not know. Maybe it wouldn't, maybe once he was safely on Lianna and little more than a diminished memory and the occasional fleeting thought she would revert to her old ways, squashing the cricket which sat atop her shoulder.

Or maybe there would always be a nagging sense of doubt toward her less favorable choices.

"Nobody ever gave me that option. Even in the Jedi, everything was so black and white. Must do. Mustn't do. I act on learned impulses." She supposed everyone did, though. A child alone in the world would steal to stay alive, or risk starvation. But Ayva did not risk losing her life, she risked gaining a shred of humanity. And that scared her more than the void ever could.

With a heavy sigh she finally looked back up at him and this time held his gaze. "What have you done to me?" she asked, though truly she didn't expect an answer. In the same instance her thumb flexed against his wrist, before she pulled him ever so slightly closer, her gaze intense and thoughtful.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Ayvari Dorian"]

Kurt leaned into her, albeit only slightly. His hand fell low, sliding onto her stomach and then slightly upward to fall onto the curve of her chest. At the same time he kisses her, a light peck that would go trailing down the side of her cheek before slowly reaching her neck.

What had he done to her?

Nothing on purpose, at least not that he thought. Kurt wasn't the type of person to change anyone or anything for any reason at all, it simply wasn't in him. he had always thought that people should be what they were, the truth of themselves and nothing more. Kurt had never wanted anyone to change, especially for him. He was a simple man, with simple wants, simple needs, and simple morals. There was nothing complex about him, nothing underlying or hidden.

Kurt simply was who he was.

A scoundrel, a rake, a man constantly on the run.

That was his identity, and he was happy with it. Some had tried to change it before, some had tried to change who he was or what he did. They always failed of course, always ended up with the same frustrations. Kurt knew what it was like, what it felt like when someone tried to change you, That's why he would never inflict it upon another person. No, he was happy being himself, and if that had affect Ayvari? Well then it was no fault but her own.

 

[Lief]

Great, so this time it was Ayva who had - unintentionally - instigated it.

He had said his piece, though, and while she didn't entirely understand it he'd been given the chance to back away. So Ayva resigned herself to ignoring the nagging bit of doubt which remained at the back of her mind, and lost herself in the moment once again. Her lips lingered on his, and when he trailed them down to her neck Ayva lifted a hand to his chest and exhaled softly. Her pulse quickened, skin like fire where his lips had settled.

Perhaps it was her fault, her doing, and it was wrong of her to lay the blame on Kurt. But like it or not, the chaos he had brought to her otherwise structured - even rigid - lifestyle had already caused ripples.

Truly she had never been one to exude confidence, she had always been a pawn, a sheep, following the orders of those greater than her. And she had been happy with that role, the Galaxy needed followers just as much as leaders. She knew how to take charge, she knew how to dominate a situation, but it wasn't who she was deep down.

It had been quite some time since she had been able to let go of the outward shell she had constructed for herself after losing Xanxus, that which spoke of strength, of confidence and knowing. Maybe that was why she felt different now, she was out of her element, probing in the dark for guidance. There wasn't much she could fall back upon, this dance was far different to that of death.

One thing she did know, however, was that the armchair was terribly uncomfortable. So she gently pushed forward, moving to stand, without putting a gap between them both, her hand forced to trail back down his chest as she was dwarfed in comparison.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Ayvari Dorian"]

Kurt looked down at her, practically towering over her tiny frame. She seemed smaller somehow, more delicate, softer. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but there was a vulnerability in her eyes that hadn't been there before. His lips thinned, his eyes followed her own as her hand came trailing down his chest. Was she trying to tell him something? Did she regret doing what she did? He wanted to shake his head, he wanted to turn around and leave this situation, leave this ship.

It was all too confusing.

He didn't understand Sith. He didn't understand her motivations, her philosophies, her beliefs, or even anything about her. Except for one thing, one thing along. She had a craving, one for touch, not of a sensual nature, no, but reassurance. Ayvari didn't seek pleasure, at least Kurt thought not. She wanted a nudge, a small soothing stroke across her skin, a small press that would tell her everything was okay, that what she had done had been just, necessary.

Was that right?

Kurt bit his lip slightly, pondering, musing.

"Come on." Kurt said slowly as he slowly reached up and grasped her neck, his fingers gently pushing into her skin as he pressed a kiss against her lips. "Lets see if we can't take our mind off of this."

It was all he could think to offer, all he could think to say. "Maybe I'll show you my Tattoo."

The Courier grinned at her, that same boyish grin.

 

[Lief]

Ayva was at this point little more than a slave to his touch, reacting to each subtle movement as if a puppet on strings; his momentary lapse did not go unnoticed, leaving her almost vulnerable and uncertain. She saw the pursing of his lips, sensed his desire to leave, and when her trailing hand fell toward his waist she caught herself mid descent and set her hand a little more firmly against his chest. There was no attempt to stop him, from continuing or from leaving, nor was she wanting him to stop.

She trailed her free hand up his side, nails lightly grazing the skin as she tipped her gaze back to meet with his. It wasn't a heated gesture, though it could easily be misinterpreted as such, if anything she was trying to reassure him. Or maybe it was herself. No, this time it was definitely him.

His brain was whirring, she could see it writ upon his face. Was she really that difficult a being to face? It was difficult for Ayva to judge her own actions, but from the way Kurt was reacting they seemed enough to feel ashamed of at the very least. She chewed the inside of her cheek, her eyes darting around unable to settle for very long.

Lianna was a decent way off. Was he simply biding his time the only way he knew how? That felt wrong to her, as if she were using him in some way; he was no hostage, he had come aboard her ship of his own free will. All he had to do was say the word and she would take him to the nearest world and sort him out with transport back to wherever it was he wanted to go. She had already made that clear earlier, when informing Kay-Four of their destination.

So torn, so very torn. Ayva did not know the right thing to do. She did not know what it was that Kurt really wanted, or what he was making himself think he wanted. Should she stop this before it got any further? Should she remind him of his options, or --

His words silenced her thoughts, and the hand which settled upon her neck snapped her back to reality. Once again she fell under the allure of his touch, she did not know the dance but she didn't need to. He was very much in control of the situation, whether he realised it or not. And like every good dance, it relied upon the coordination of both parties. Ayva was well versed in following the lead of another.

She pressed her lips against his with a slightly more intense desire, allowing them to linger as he spoke. "Show me" she breathed, though it was no command, a dual undertone carrying throughout the short murmur. Previously she had been intrigued, but now she was genuinely curious and almost unabashed, while retaining coy mannerisms. Truth be told she didn't know what she wanted, she didn't know enough about it to truly discern her own desires.

But he was right about one thing. She craved reassurance; Ayva could not deal with the thought of disappointing someone she admired or served, perhaps that was what drove her these days, the need to find perfection so that she could please another. Sure, Xanxus was gone in body but his spirit lived on. Kurt was not Xanxus, nor was he someone she served, but she did - for whatever reason - hold him in high regard. And knowing that she had already lost his respect, disappointed him by the actions she took, left her with a pit in her stomach.

And the need to please him.

"Forgive me" she whispered, her tone practically begging despite the fact the words were nearly inaudible.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Ayvari Dorian"]

Forgive her?

For what?

He could not absolve her of her sins, he could not fix what she had done, he could not even forgive her. It wasn't his place. It wasn't what he did. Kurt was no leader of religion, no subscriber to the face of any gods or deity's, he was only Kurt. Did she seek his forgiveness? His alone? Even that was lost upon him. To him, the past was in the past, the events of yesterday, of even an hour ago, had to remain firmly within the rear view mirror.

It was an aspect of life that many thought foolish, that many thought idiotic, even, but it was the only way that Kurt could survive.

His time in the navy had not been all pleasant, the things he had learned, the things he had done, the things he had seen still haunted him. He ran from them, never looking back, never trying to solve the issue that was trying to desperately to catch up to him. Kurt lived in a constant state of being driven forward. He did not care about what had just happened, he did not care about the implication of the consequences of his actions or anyone else's, all he cared about was the future.

All he cared about what was going to happen. Perhaps in it of itself that was a way to forgive, that was a way to forget and move on. She had taken an action, one that Kurt had disagreed with, one that she herself perhaps was unsure of. One could not change the past, one could not take back something like that, one could only move and press forward, one could only look to what was ahead of them. Kurt knew that, he knew that going back would only bring pain, suffering.

So why bother?

Why look back when you could go forward.

Kurt flexed his muscles, his body tensing as his hands slowly swept onto her hips. His biceps tensed, and suddenly he lifted her. He moved her quickly, his fingers digging into her hips as he picked her up and swept her around. Within half a second Ayvari would find herself pressed and pinned against the wall, his hands slowly sliding beneath the cloth of her shirt and his body pressing hard against hers.

She asked for forgiveness? A passionate kiss was her answer.

 

[Lief]

Ayva did not know what she wanted out of this, she wasn't sure why it all felt so intense and necessary but it was.

And as weak willed as it was of her, she craved his touch. Her body might've trembled with anticipation if not for the fact that her wish was granted so suddenly. Her hips were grasped, body lifted and pressed against the wall. She was pinned in place before she could so much as react, and her lips met his with an equal ferocity.

Her hands worked their way around to the small of his back, then up between his shoulder blades, fingers pressing deftly against the exposed skin. She didn't know if this constituted as forgiveness, she didn't care if he held her in contempt. In that moment none of it mattered. She shivered under the touch of his hands, the cold wall against her back providing an unexpected contrast which forced a murmur of delight from her lips.

The intense need to please him, the fear that she had disappointed him ringing true even now, had her lips break away from his to instead trail across his jaw. Her subtle fingers tightened at his back.

She had never allowed herself to give into her own desires; she had never killed for pleasure, loved, acted on impulse. She had always been the rational one. There was nothing rational about this. Nor was there anything wrong with it.

Once, while journeying with Kyrze on Tatooine, Ayva had stumbled upon a tomb. A lightsaber lay within it, and at her touch it had awakened a spirit who had been gone from the world for eons. She had subdued it, though she did not know how, forced herself through the experience all for that hilt. She had craved it like nothing else, it was the only irrational moment she'd had but it had proved fruitful all the same. That same hilt now lay upon the shelf alongside Xanxus'.

The one time she had truly wanted something, she had taken it. But there was a whole world of difference in her mind between laying claim to an object, and laying claim to a person. The latter she had done countless times, but never in this way. And Ayva wasn't even so sure she could bring herself to do that. She didn't want to be the one who led, she didn't want to be the one who claimed, quite the opposite. This time it was she who longed to be placed on the backfoot, to be taken in every sense, if only for a while.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]