Star Wars - Sion/Female Exile
Fandom: Star Wars (KotOR II)
Pairing: Sion x Female Exile
Theme set: Gamma
Rating: R
Notes: Since I rearranged the order of the prompts to improve flow, the numbers would only be a distraction. All 50 of the Gamma set are in there, though. This fits in more or less with my longer Sion/Exile fic, Fever Dream.
***Sion & the Exile
Fire
He lies dying, roses with shrapnel centers blooming in his chest as the xoxin fields burn.
Hurricane
She is the calm center of that storm of smoke and heat and ash, soft cool hands that coax him back from the brink of death.
Temptation
Even then he senses it-doubt, the hairline fracture in her soul- and wants her.
Formal
Later, she nods curtly the rare times they meet and pretends she cannot feel his gaze long minutes after.
Dream
He sometimes dreams of healing her . . . or of breaking her wide open and watching the dark rush in.
Midnight
One night he follows the thread of her heartbeat and finds her sitting at the end of a darkened hallway, arms twined across her belly, staring out at the gravid curve of Dxun through the portal there.
Wait
He halts his approach and reaches out with senses beyond the physical, tendrils of the Force that lick at the edges of her thoughts.
Mask
She chafes away the gooseflesh that prickles suddenly across her arms and turns to see a man lounging half in shadow, eyes like two black holes that swallow the light.
View
Discovered, he approaches her unhurriedly.
Lock
He ends up closer than good manners allow, eyes insolently locked to her own.
Unknown
She considers ordering him to leave her alone, and surprises herself by asking him to join her instead.
Talk
Soon she finds herself speaking of many things she shouldn’t: Revan, her doubts in his leadership and sometimes in the war itself, the men and women she sent to die on Dxun.
Body
Though he says very little she feels his phantom touch exploring the abraded skin and bruises that she has not bothered to heal, the tiny half-moon welts dug into either arm in telltale groups of five.
Eclipse
As words decay to silence, she finds that her slim dark hand has come to rest in the cradle of his palm.
Silk
Her folded sleeve lays bare a crescent of vein-threaded skin, a pulse that hastens beneath the sweep of his callused thumb.
Silence
I should end this now, she thinks, but says nothing.
Cover
Rough fingers slip beneath her robes, and guilt is drowned in a wave of more primal feeling.
Cold
Then she is pinned between his warm bulk and the cold metal wall, one knee caught in the crook of his arm.
Music
Low, contented groans spill from her throat as their bodies find an ungentle rhythm; nails and teeth and the bruising press of flesh to flesh.
Sacred
His grip slackens; he feels the mingled wetness between them, sees his marks on her skin and thinks, mine.
Overwhelmed
She breaks free, scrambles her robes into place with numb fingers and flees, unable to put words to the taste of guilt drenched in honey.
Promise
He watches her go, whispering aloud the vow that pulses along the Force like a heartbeat: we will meet again.
*** the Exile
Hope
Revan tells her they can still win, and somehow, she still believes in him.
Box
Can it really end the war, this machine controlled by an activator so small its zabrak creator can hold it in one shaking hand?
World
She nods once, and the world ends.
Breathe
She is ripped apart in the maelstrom of death that follows, broken and bloodied, but somehow she cannot stop screaming long enough to die.
Forgotten
The Force is lost to her, forgotten somewhere in the endless hours of healing and the growing realization that she has been used.
Fever
Fever rages through her body, burning away every softness it finds.
Hero
When they send her a medal, a sanitation droid finds it the next day hidden beneath a pile of used and bloody bandages.
Ice
She has changed, gone cold and brittle, and even those who once called her “friend” are frightened by the hollowness at her core.
Farewells
You are no longer welcome here, the Council tells her, and not one of them looks her in the eye.
*** Sion
Lies
Revan pledges to rid the galaxy of weakness, if only they will follow him.
Red
Even when Revan disappears, the Academy carved out of Korriban’s red sand thrives.
Memory
It is when the Dark Lord returns that the Sith fall, and the hope of a united galaxy dies with them.
Journey
He escapes the carnage at Korriban and ranges far, forgoing food and sleep, searching ceaselessly for something he cannot name.
Gravity
Time, he discovers, has not robbed Malachor V of its hunger.
Whisper
An ancient voice urges him onward, deeper, to the heart of the ruined planet and the fortress that lies there.
Fall
He believes he knows how far a man can fall; Kreia opens his eyes to the truth.
***the Exile
Highway
The Outer Rim has no end of places to hide and lick her wounds, to brood and grow bitter.
Talent
Murderers-for-hire, she discovers, are rarely out of work.
Dance
Sometimes she glimpses the Force in the breathless dance of hunter and hunted, always just long enough to hurt.
Drink
Liquor, sex, and the thrill of danger are her talismans against deeper thought, and she fools herself into thinking they are enough.
Run
Still, deep down, she understands that she can never outrun what she has become.
***Sion
Strength
Memory is fractured, and he clings to the one truth that remains: in pain lies strength; in weakness, death.
Laugh
Kreia learns this quickly enough at the hands of her former apprentices.
Wings
Finally, with no one left to call “master,” he is free to rid the galaxy of Jedi weakness.
Search
After long years of waiting he locates the last of the Jedi, a sad and crippled thing hiding in the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim.
Candle
Something flares to life at the sight of her face on the screen, and just as quickly dies.
Forever
He will hunt her for as long as it takes, he will kill her, and then . . .
***the Exile
Ring
Curled blood-spattered on a dirty flophouse floor, she wakes from a dream already fading and thinks, we will meet again.
Pairing: Sion x Female Exile
Theme set: Gamma
Rating: R
Notes: Since I rearranged the order of the prompts to improve flow, the numbers would only be a distraction. All 50 of the Gamma set are in there, though. This fits in more or less with my longer Sion/Exile fic, Fever Dream.
***Sion & the Exile
Fire
He lies dying, roses with shrapnel centers blooming in his chest as the xoxin fields burn.
Hurricane
She is the calm center of that storm of smoke and heat and ash, soft cool hands that coax him back from the brink of death.
Temptation
Even then he senses it-doubt, the hairline fracture in her soul- and wants her.
Formal
Later, she nods curtly the rare times they meet and pretends she cannot feel his gaze long minutes after.
Dream
He sometimes dreams of healing her . . . or of breaking her wide open and watching the dark rush in.
Midnight
One night he follows the thread of her heartbeat and finds her sitting at the end of a darkened hallway, arms twined across her belly, staring out at the gravid curve of Dxun through the portal there.
Wait
He halts his approach and reaches out with senses beyond the physical, tendrils of the Force that lick at the edges of her thoughts.
Mask
She chafes away the gooseflesh that prickles suddenly across her arms and turns to see a man lounging half in shadow, eyes like two black holes that swallow the light.
View
Discovered, he approaches her unhurriedly.
Lock
He ends up closer than good manners allow, eyes insolently locked to her own.
Unknown
She considers ordering him to leave her alone, and surprises herself by asking him to join her instead.
Talk
Soon she finds herself speaking of many things she shouldn’t: Revan, her doubts in his leadership and sometimes in the war itself, the men and women she sent to die on Dxun.
Body
Though he says very little she feels his phantom touch exploring the abraded skin and bruises that she has not bothered to heal, the tiny half-moon welts dug into either arm in telltale groups of five.
Eclipse
As words decay to silence, she finds that her slim dark hand has come to rest in the cradle of his palm.
Silk
Her folded sleeve lays bare a crescent of vein-threaded skin, a pulse that hastens beneath the sweep of his callused thumb.
Silence
I should end this now, she thinks, but says nothing.
Cover
Rough fingers slip beneath her robes, and guilt is drowned in a wave of more primal feeling.
Cold
Then she is pinned between his warm bulk and the cold metal wall, one knee caught in the crook of his arm.
Music
Low, contented groans spill from her throat as their bodies find an ungentle rhythm; nails and teeth and the bruising press of flesh to flesh.
Sacred
His grip slackens; he feels the mingled wetness between them, sees his marks on her skin and thinks, mine.
Overwhelmed
She breaks free, scrambles her robes into place with numb fingers and flees, unable to put words to the taste of guilt drenched in honey.
Promise
He watches her go, whispering aloud the vow that pulses along the Force like a heartbeat: we will meet again.
*** the Exile
Hope
Revan tells her they can still win, and somehow, she still believes in him.
Box
Can it really end the war, this machine controlled by an activator so small its zabrak creator can hold it in one shaking hand?
World
She nods once, and the world ends.
Breathe
She is ripped apart in the maelstrom of death that follows, broken and bloodied, but somehow she cannot stop screaming long enough to die.
Forgotten
The Force is lost to her, forgotten somewhere in the endless hours of healing and the growing realization that she has been used.
Fever
Fever rages through her body, burning away every softness it finds.
Hero
When they send her a medal, a sanitation droid finds it the next day hidden beneath a pile of used and bloody bandages.
Ice
She has changed, gone cold and brittle, and even those who once called her “friend” are frightened by the hollowness at her core.
Farewells
You are no longer welcome here, the Council tells her, and not one of them looks her in the eye.
*** Sion
Lies
Revan pledges to rid the galaxy of weakness, if only they will follow him.
Red
Even when Revan disappears, the Academy carved out of Korriban’s red sand thrives.
Memory
It is when the Dark Lord returns that the Sith fall, and the hope of a united galaxy dies with them.
Journey
He escapes the carnage at Korriban and ranges far, forgoing food and sleep, searching ceaselessly for something he cannot name.
Gravity
Time, he discovers, has not robbed Malachor V of its hunger.
Whisper
An ancient voice urges him onward, deeper, to the heart of the ruined planet and the fortress that lies there.
Fall
He believes he knows how far a man can fall; Kreia opens his eyes to the truth.
***the Exile
Highway
The Outer Rim has no end of places to hide and lick her wounds, to brood and grow bitter.
Talent
Murderers-for-hire, she discovers, are rarely out of work.
Dance
Sometimes she glimpses the Force in the breathless dance of hunter and hunted, always just long enough to hurt.
Drink
Liquor, sex, and the thrill of danger are her talismans against deeper thought, and she fools herself into thinking they are enough.
Run
Still, deep down, she understands that she can never outrun what she has become.
***Sion
Strength
Memory is fractured, and he clings to the one truth that remains: in pain lies strength; in weakness, death.
Laugh
Kreia learns this quickly enough at the hands of her former apprentices.
Wings
Finally, with no one left to call “master,” he is free to rid the galaxy of Jedi weakness.
Search
After long years of waiting he locates the last of the Jedi, a sad and crippled thing hiding in the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim.
Candle
Something flares to life at the sight of her face on the screen, and just as quickly dies.
Forever
He will hunt her for as long as it takes, he will kill her, and then . . .
***the Exile
Ring
Curled blood-spattered on a dirty flophouse floor, she wakes from a dream already fading and thinks, we will meet again.