FIC: Secrets
[ mood | 
relaxed ]
Title: Secrets
Author: Delilah Draken
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing(s): Darth Vader/Han Solo
Status: Finished
Disclaimer: The stories are mine. All the rest - characters and locations you've heard of in TV shows, movies, books etc - belong to their respective owners. I am just borrowing them.
Summary: Shortly after he is encased in carbonite, a broken heart learns a secret better kept hidden.
Author's Note: written for fanfic100 - 071, Broken and slash_100 - 093, Break-up; also written for Danielle's Multi-Fandom Unloved Pairings Challenge
Secrets
by
Delilah Draken
The room is dark when she enters. Only a sad blue light blinks silently under a view screen. Slowly, as if this place isn't for her to be in, and she awaits a dire punishment if she is found, she finds her way towards that blinking beacon, that has called out to her since she entered this room for the first time months ago.
Exactly two days after his 'demise' in Imperial hands, news of a spy within the ranks of the Rebellion reached her ears. It made her stop and think. Is it possible that he deceived us? That he really was only with them for the money they paid? She didn't want to believe what her mind told her, what her heart refused to accept as true. But still, despite what she wishes, despite what she knows, she is here in this room, fully intending to disturb the secrets of a man who hides far too much, too easily.
Her hand reaches out, puppet-like, as if some other brain controls her muscles than her own. The click and whirr of the activating screen is as loud as an exploding bomb in the small room, making her flinch backward and hold her hand protectively. Was it only her imagination, or did the button really burn her fingers?
There are only two words on the screen, mocking her suspicious mind. Without thinking, and maybe with a bit of anger, she opens the file named 'home'...
... and all her theories of treachery are given a full sentence of death.
Tears pour down her cheeks as she watches a younger Han Solo enter the quarters of a_ high ranking officer. The fact that he is wearing the blood-red insignia of a student of Yinchorr on his neck, marking him as one of the deadliest fighters the Empire has managed to produce, drives the truth into her head. Like a knife piercing flesh, cutting open a bleeding wound that will never heal, this picture will be branded into her memory for all eternity.
“You shouldn't work so much, sir.” His voice is soft, like silk on hot skin, cooling what threatens to burn. His steps echo in the silent room, only disturbed by the kind of rhythmic breathing that creates nightmares in every rebel's head.
“Sir?” he asks, when no answer comes, doubt and fear colouring the word.
The only reply is a data pad thrown into his hands, that begin to shake after reading the short message it contains. “No,” he whispers. “No. He can't... I didn't...”
“You have one hour.” Cold voice, colder heart. Words delivered from a monster's lips.
With great difficulty the young man straightens his shoulders and takes a deep breath, maybe intending to speak in his own defence, but deciding against it. Slow steps bring him not out of the room, but closer to the black armoured man. There, he just looks up into eyes hidden by the protective mask, before turning around and leaving.
The video ends. A dark screen remains; her sobs are the only sound in the room.
Despite, or perhaps because of what she has just seen, she opens the second file. This one has no video, but written words, disturbingly accurate, titled 'love lost'.
An angel's soul flies fierce and free.
An angel's heart burns cold and cruel.
There is no place in hell for an angel's love.
Don't look back.
relaxed ]
Title: Secrets
Author: Delilah Draken
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing(s): Darth Vader/Han Solo
Status: Finished
Disclaimer: The stories are mine. All the rest - characters and locations you've heard of in TV shows, movies, books etc - belong to their respective owners. I am just borrowing them.
Summary: Shortly after he is encased in carbonite, a broken heart learns a secret better kept hidden.
Author's Note: written for fanfic100 - 071, Broken and slash_100 - 093, Break-up; also written for Danielle's Multi-Fandom Unloved Pairings Challenge
Secrets
by
Delilah Draken
The room is dark when she enters. Only a sad blue light blinks silently under a view screen. Slowly, as if this place isn't for her to be in, and she awaits a dire punishment if she is found, she finds her way towards that blinking beacon, that has called out to her since she entered this room for the first time months ago.
Exactly two days after his 'demise' in Imperial hands, news of a spy within the ranks of the Rebellion reached her ears. It made her stop and think. Is it possible that he deceived us? That he really was only with them for the money they paid? She didn't want to believe what her mind told her, what her heart refused to accept as true. But still, despite what she wishes, despite what she knows, she is here in this room, fully intending to disturb the secrets of a man who hides far too much, too easily.
Her hand reaches out, puppet-like, as if some other brain controls her muscles than her own. The click and whirr of the activating screen is as loud as an exploding bomb in the small room, making her flinch backward and hold her hand protectively. Was it only her imagination, or did the button really burn her fingers?
There are only two words on the screen, mocking her suspicious mind. Without thinking, and maybe with a bit of anger, she opens the file named 'home'...
... and all her theories of treachery are given a full sentence of death.
Tears pour down her cheeks as she watches a younger Han Solo enter the quarters of a_ high ranking officer. The fact that he is wearing the blood-red insignia of a student of Yinchorr on his neck, marking him as one of the deadliest fighters the Empire has managed to produce, drives the truth into her head. Like a knife piercing flesh, cutting open a bleeding wound that will never heal, this picture will be branded into her memory for all eternity.
“You shouldn't work so much, sir.” His voice is soft, like silk on hot skin, cooling what threatens to burn. His steps echo in the silent room, only disturbed by the kind of rhythmic breathing that creates nightmares in every rebel's head.
“Sir?” he asks, when no answer comes, doubt and fear colouring the word.
The only reply is a data pad thrown into his hands, that begin to shake after reading the short message it contains. “No,” he whispers. “No. He can't... I didn't...”
“You have one hour.” Cold voice, colder heart. Words delivered from a monster's lips.
With great difficulty the young man straightens his shoulders and takes a deep breath, maybe intending to speak in his own defence, but deciding against it. Slow steps bring him not out of the room, but closer to the black armoured man. There, he just looks up into eyes hidden by the protective mask, before turning around and leaving.
The video ends. A dark screen remains; her sobs are the only sound in the room.
Despite, or perhaps because of what she has just seen, she opens the second file. This one has no video, but written words, disturbingly accurate, titled 'love lost'.
An angel's soul flies fierce and free.
An angel's heart burns cold and cruel.
There is no place in hell for an angel's love.
Don't look back.