enola6

[enola6]

I just finished something I wrote in high school. Man , I’m getting old lol.

[enola6]

Germany, My Husband (Germany/reader) ✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

It was cold and that was all she remembered.

Perhaps it was the overwhelming dress that was sewn onto her , or maybe it was the giant veil that dragged behind her feet when she walked. Though she had remarked to the old (C/N) Empire that the dress was beautiful and deserved to be worn by someone greater than her. Oh the white jewels , they glicened in the sunlight that had crept through the church’s stained glass.

It was a dress approved by her husband, so she had been told. But she didn’t believe that men cared about such trivial things- especially since he had never seen her before .

She sealed her letter at her vanity with the words :

“Bye ,Grandmother, for this is my last letter as (Y/N)(L/N). I am now Lady Ludwig Beilschmidt”..

With nimble and graceful hands, the young country handed the letter to the older brunette who watched her from the corner of her eye. She had once been forced to marry too, now it was her duty to welcome the young (C/N) into her home. Though she remained happily married to the Austrian, she still feared for the awkward youthfulness that overcame the young country’s shaking hands. A crystal was forming in her eyes, but she did not look up at Mrs Hungry.

“He vill treat jou vell,” The older country interrupted the pregnant silence with her slight lisp. “He vill not mistreat you. I knov’ vhat jou feazr. If anything, his brother vill be more ov a chore than he”.

“Are you his sister?”

“His cousin’s vife.” she smiled at the maiden bride’s trembling voice. For once, she seemed real through the transparent veil that clung to her face. “Ve live together. All of us.Even that balfácánt he calls ‘bruder’”.

A white smile formed upon the maiden’s face. A maid stepped back from fixing her veil and she stood up from the pink chair that had been sat in front of the vanity. “Not even my Grandmother could make it.” (C/N) remarked “She refused to see me marry him. Such a historic day in my country’s history and she doesn't even seem to care.”

The wooden door was burst open and (Y/N)’s boss burst in with all his glory plastered on his chest. Medals made of silver and gold that had been mined in the deep (C/N) caves that they now only have half control over. The flashes of silver and gold almost seemed to mock the girl who was only there considering that he had lost the (C/N)-German war due to his lack of leadership. That was her opinion. The opinion of many.

He was half-German himself. The people had been reluctant to coronate him for they believed that a certain bias would be present when dealing with the Europeans . They were right , of course. There is no other explanation for being so oblivious in a time of war. His sharp glare watched her slowly ascend and take the cornflower bouquet that rested in the case of water. Her gloves wet and she watched as they slowly became a deep red when she took the hands of her boss. Hungry took the train of the dress and straightened it, earning a grumble from the royal.

He rushed her forward , but the bride turned to look at her newly found companion , “Thank you, Ms Hungry.”

“Sok szerencsét, lánytestvér”.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

The immaculate door intimidated her as light seeped through its delicate cracks. Two guards stood at either side , awaiting for the grand piano to sing its awaited song. She wiped her gloves on her white dress in an attempt to rid of the red liquid that stained the pure witness of her gloves. Then the people started talking and the door slightly cracked open and she worried that the sweat forming on her forehead would mess up her hair.

Her boss squeezed her hand, annoyed at her trembling and crying. Her eyes found his cold dark pools of blue and wondered if her bridegroom would be as cold and distant as he. What if he hit her? What if he made her a territory ? What if he decided that (C/N) should no longer be a country and simply just use her for the resources she has, slowly killing her. The piano began to play, but (C/N)’s feet did not move. Chains grew in place of the satin shoes that were a few sizes too small for her feet. Her boss pushed her forward, the guards opened the door, and she was free no more. The aisle was long and tedious, but when she appeared everyone stood from their pews to sneak a look at the freshly matured country. It did not please her to look at the people around her, so she looked forward. But when she looked forward, a blurry silhouette of a country that was to be her husband awaited . Maybe he was as reluctant as she and would divorce her as soon as he got his fair share of gold and weapons.

No, a respectable man would not do such things.

The whispers of others taunted her. They all turned and commented about how meek and young the country was. Some of them wished that they had known that she was so young , for they would’ve attacked her, but after knowing who her bridegroom was , they did not fancy the idea.

She walked up the altar steps , her shoes slightly taping on the cool marble.

“Mister Germany, please take the hand of your wife.” The minister spoke.

Her boss gave her hand to Germany, letting him touch her for the first time. He seemed clueless as to what to do with her hand. He fumbled her hand before squeezing it tightly so as to not let her go, as if a harsh breeze would sneak into the church and knock her over.

She glanced down at her hand, feeling the sudden pain of his strength before glancing at his face. He was made of stone , a statue imported from Rome. The thin line that was held by his lips told her that he was as reluctant as she, and though he gained more from the marriage than she ever will, he still did not fancy the idea of being married to some random country.

The piano stopped playing and all attention was diverted to the couple. Lingering murmurs were silenced by the minister’s soporific voice and speech as he opened his book and side eyed the albino man who stood near the altar. She had never seen a man so white , but Hungry was sure to warn her of the ‘devil spawn’ that was Prussia, the brother of her husband.

A speech so long and boring would make anyone tired and (C/N) was no exception. She decided to look up and examine her bridegroom for the man he was , and though her vail did make it hard to see, she was still able to see the pools of blue that resembled the sternness of her boss. ‘They really are the same’ she thought to herself, ‘at least he’s not bad looking.’ However, her daze was cut short when he glanced at her swiftly.

“Vilt‘ thou have zhis voman to thy vedded vife, to live together ufter god's ordinance in zhe holy estate ov matrimony?” The minister began as his attention grew on Germany. She noticed his grip growing tight and his eyes becoming slightly constricted. The couple looked at each other in the eyes, for a moment he doubted his decision. He only agreed to the marriage as a consequence of the pressure that Austria and Prussia had bestowed upon him. The truth was that his economy was unsteady and he had grown sick from the peril known as inflation. He had stood in on a meeting, her boss and grandmother sat at the end of the table in grand thrones while Prussia and his own boss had sat at the opposite end.

“Vhy don’t jou just get married? Un eazy vey tu solve jour probvlem.”

Prussia whipped his head back and let out a howling laugh. “Are jou kidding me? To zhat uld hag?”

“I have a daughter,” The old (C/N) empire spoke out, her hands moving to remove her spectacles “But if you had any honour you would not take her”.

“Und vhy is zhat?”

“She is far too young to leave her land and move onto another. After all , she is (C/N)’s personification .”

Prussia leaned back in his chair and looked back at his younger brother “how doez she look like. Is she hot vith voluptuous-”

“That is her right there.” The king of (C/N) pointed to the large portrait on the wall with a girl in ceremonial (C/N) dress. Her hair was pinned in the traditional fashion and her hands were fashioned chastily on her lap.

Germany had first noticed the gentle simper that had been painted with the painter’s red. She seemed pure, amiable, and unknowing. Her posture had indicated that she had never seen war, something he was so accustomed to seeing.

“So vest, jou vant ‘er ?”

Being lost in the colours of the painting, Germany looked back down at his brother. His cheeks were a crimson and he was at a loss of words . How could he be offered a wife without meeting her first ? Prussia grumbled something about being too awesome to marry anyway and that this woman would be a birthday gift to him, Germany ignored him.

“Ja, if it vhat i must do”.

And now here he was , as powerful as could be. His uniform dripped with medals and gold that had reflected from the sunlight into her eyes to make them burn. One of the golden pendants was a gift from her. It was golden of course, and in the shape of a star which symbolized something in her culture but he couldn’t remember.

“Vilt thou love er‘, comfort ’er, ‘onor, und kepe ’er in sickenesse ubd health? And forsaking all uther kepe thee only to ‘er, so long as jou both shall ‘live?”

Germany slipped the ring onto her finger before glancing into her eyes. He could barely see her through the veil that had been so heavily draped across her face . But he knew one thing, she was trembling.

“Ja”

The minister gruffed . Looking at the veiled country, he began to read the words from his book.

“Vilt thou have zis man to zy vedded husband, to live in zhe ’oly estate of matrimony? Vilt thou obey him, und serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness und in health? Und forsaking al other keep thee onely to him, so long as jou both shall live?” His voice trailed off as the prolonged stare between the couple continued for a lifetime. Her shod feet twitched as her toes moved in a way so that they were facing together; it became hard to stand.

“I will”, she responded in her language , unable to translate the words in his. Then she put the golden band on his finger

It didn’t matter if she said ‘I will’ or ‘I don’t’ , as long as she was married and away. The minister didn’t understand her language, nor did he make an attempt to read her body language. He hurryingly closed his bible and sighed in almost a mocking way as if this marriage was not significant or valid. “Jou many kiss jour bride”.

The bride and groom grew flustered, it would be the first time either of them kissed. Germany’s hands reached to pull her veil from her head but he halted as if he were frightened to view his wife bare from her veil.

“Hurry up, vest” Prussia nudged his brother “I bet jou she’s cute under zhat veil und under zhat dress too.” He whispered the last part expecting her not to hear him. But she did and her cheeks turned redder.

Other countries began whispering amongst each other, eager to leave the church and attend the reception. If only he would kiss her and leave, this whole ordeal would be over. She would not be standing there, absorbing all the lingering stares that were concentrated on her body. They whispered false ideologies about her , how they believed her to be the weakened version of her grandmother and the empires that came before her.

Then he pulled the veil back, viewing her genuine features for the first time. He nearly stepped back, her portrait did not deceive him. He awkwardly pulled her in, his hands firm against her shoulders as if to keep her from escaping. Slowly she closed her eyes, allowing him to kiss her.

Cold and hard lips met her luscious and soft ones. soft ones as they kissed in front of the marble altar. It was an awkward kiss, his teeth fortuitously grazing her lips as she nearly jolted back. But just as the kiss began, the kiss ended with him pulling away.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

The reception bored her. Nor was she pleased with the food that she was served.

He sat beside her , ignoring the dancing and music as much as she did.

The colors of fair maidens' dresses blurred in her vision as she rested her eyes on the hectic ballroom. ‘If only I were so fair that my husband would look at me longingly’.

“So…” she looked at him and waited for his gaze to turn to hers “What is your favorite color?”

It was a sad attempt but an attempt nonetheless to get him to talk to her. He didn’t seem annoyed at the question until he bluntly answered “orange” and went back to eating his food.

She sighed and played with the foreign food on her plate.

“Und Jours?” he asked.

“(F/C), it’s the color of my country.”

He looked upon her smile before going back to finishing his meal. Germany, while at the head of the table , sat next to his older brother who whispered dirty jokes into his ear. His face turned a deep crimson red, but (C/N) acted oblivious. She wrapped her hands around her waist tightly in fear that all her organs would spill onto the table and she would make a fool out of herself. She heard her boss’ voice in her head scold her, telling her to sit up straight and act as an (C/N) lady would. She didn’t want to be a lady.

“Gentlemen ,” A man placed a hand on the trembling girl’s shoulder and looked over at her new husband “May I steal your bride for a dance?”

The young country only nodded, not knowing the sharp grip that pressured the girl’s shoulder would leave a lasting bruise. Though an ‘acquaintance’ and only having just met his wife, the weary expression she held was enough to alarm him. He turned in his chair, watching the uncoordinated couple trip onto the marble floor. Something didn’t seem right about him, nor the little woman he arrived with.

Germany looked back at his brother who tried to cover his laughter with his gloved hand.

“Vhat are jou laughing at?” He cut a link from his plate.

“He’s a little rough with her , no?” Spain sat at her empty seat, drinking her nearly untouched goblet of wine. “The señora doesn't drink?”

Belligerently, (C/N) found herself being pushed into one of the many rooms of the estate. It was of a similar fashion to all the other rooms that she had seen, but the walls seemed to close in on the country and her king as music and laughter still managed to overpower the room. She whimpered, her face confused and her dress stained with tears , she did not look as a bride would on her wedding day.

“You know what you must do.”

“You are putting all this pressure on me . I can’t-”

Slap

The sound was clear as day. If only the door was slightly ajar then it wouldn’t have blended in with the music. Just like the slap, her bruise blended in with her already red face. “In order to successfully unit the two countries you must consummate. It will be watched by a priest and two diplomates to make sure it is done correctly-”

Then the door cracked open and the king took his hands off (C/N) when he saw Germany standing in the doorframe. Unbeknownst to them, he had been standing there the whole time, listening to every little word that was said. He had had the same talk with his own boss, though the talk was a little less violent and emotional.

“It’z time to retire.”

“Yes, I believe so too.” her boss acknowledged , “It’s after midnight, what is a bride doing away from her husband on her wedding night.” he joked though the new couple did not seem to find the jest amusing.He took her hand and stepped from the room with her, making sure to not step on the train of the never ending dress. The sea of arachnids grew silent as they parted to make way for Lady and Lord Beilschmidt.

And in that moment , innocence was lost and she was made a woman. Their dance was awkward at first, with him being stiff and her being unknowing, but the marriage was final, and her lily and loyalty was given to him. That was all that mattered , to her boss at least.

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

“That iz my piano. Do not touch my piano”

“That iz zhe first thing jou say to jour new cousin , Austria ?”

Light cracked through the windows as she stood there awkwardly , hitting her dress slightly to outline the golden and yellow seams. It matched her wedding band which locked so heavily on her ring finger. If only it didn’t bother her so much then maybe she would have acknowledged the thick band’s beauty.

“I am tired of zese ‘children’ moving into my home. First Prussia and now zese girl.”

The oak doors burst open, revealing Hungry holding a white envelope with the seal of (C/N).

“(C/N)!” she had a distressed look on her face and she closed in on the girl “It comes from jour boss.”

“My boss has passed. We haven't crowned a monarch yet.”

Overtime , Hungry had noticed a slight change in the country’s attitude. After the death of her boss, the people of (C/N) began a revolution, killing those with the emblem of Germany etched into their hearts.

The young woman seemed panicked, clenching her satin covered heart and helping herself to the velvet seats made for Austria.

“(C/N),” Hungry placed her hand on the shoulder of the younger girl, thankful that she was not in her place “Jou must asx jour husband for council.”

“No, I am a country. I must deal with this on my own.”

v“No. Jou are a joung gurl, jou must ask for help when needed. Germany vill know what to do.”

And so, later that night when she had had her dinner and dismissed her handmaiden , she dressed again and did her hair in the fashion in which she knew he liked. He once gifted her perfume from France which she had never worn. Though she had doubted that he himself had picked out the perfume for he rarely thought of her (or so she thought) , she decided to adorn herself in it in order to appeal more desirable to him.

She needed money.

She was going to ask for money.

After all, he had owed it to her.

The crown his queen wore was crafted from her blood. The ring his king wore came from the teeth of her grandmother . The child she would hopefully never birth would be carried by her.

She did the sign of the cross.

She ascended into the hallway , sweeping her skirt along the tile.

Laces that sinched her waist and held her body constricted her , making her smaller and smaller as she stood beneath the immaculate doors . Those doors , the doors that separated her and him. In those days during that time, women were not allowed in the studios of men. It was respected as his space , a space in which she was not allowed.

Tonight, she was not a woman.

Tonight, she was (C/N).

The air that flooded the hallway became heavier and heavier until she stopped breathing. A tear began to form and she did not know why. Was she afraid to talk to her own husband ?

Suddenly, the door swung open and hit (C/N) on the nose . Causing her to stumble back and hit her head on the tiled floor. There was no carpet to break her fall, only the stone which nearly caused her to bleed.

“(C/N)?” Germany looked down at her, startled . He offered his hand to hers , hoisted her to her feet. “I did not expect jou to be up so late”

She was too startled. Her heart raced and suddenly she forgot to speak her own language. The world around her spun and she worried that he would kill her then and there. No, he wouldn’t do that , would he ? She didn’t know. What she did know was that he had the money that she needed.

“Germany,” she kissed him on the cheek gently, regaining her composure “I must speak to you, it’s urgent.”

“Vhat could be so urgent at this hour sigh … jou knov vhat, come inside. Jou are my vife after all.”

He opened the door for her, allowing her to step into the room for the first time .

Everything was tidy. The curtains were perfectly ironed , the books were arranged by author and colour, and his medals were nicely seated next to each other in the order in which he received them. There was not a speck or a crumb on the floor, as if he had just swept the floors.

“(C/N), Jou bleed.” He states , coming close to her body.

The mirror she looked into showcased her bleeding nose. She was perfect in every way but that. She wanted to cry, she had put so much effort into her makeup and just a simple mistake had ruined everything.

“Here let me help.”

He sat her down and came upon her with his handkerchief. Somehow it disappeared, and her face was cleaned from his magic hand. Even the red stains that had sunken into her pores were gone, as if he were a painter painting a clean, pure woman.

“Thank you.”

“Ja” he turned around and placed his handkerchief carefully on his desk. “Knov vhat is it jou vant?”

“I need help!” She blurted out . “I am ashamed to ask you for it, but I need you to help me. Your people have mined hard and deep into my soil. Women are raped by your occupiers and boys are taken to become soldiers. All I ask is that you police your men and compensate me for my precious medals.”

He placed a finger on his chin, as if he were thinking.

“Vhou is jour debt to?”

“England.”

“Then the matterz iz finished.”

“But I need you to send at least half of your men away.”

“Done.”

“Just like that.”

“Und just like that.”

She straightened her neck and wondered why she had even stressed in the first place. Still, he stood in front of her tall and strong , intimidating her immensely . She felt small and weak still, even though she had just gotten her way.

“Alvright, if zhat iz it then let me valk jou to jour room.”

“That would bring me much joy, yes.”

He offered her his arm to latch herself onto, to which she gladly accepted . She wanted to leave that room as quickly as possible . So once they stepped from the overly clean room, she let out a sigh of relief and a small prayer to her god.

The amount of steps it took them to reach her room was 392, which was only one or two off from the amount it took her to reach the office. She probably miscounted , or got distracted by the sound of her heels hitting the tile.

“Alvright,” he kissed her on her cheek, ”gute nacht.”

“Gute nacht.” She responded and watched him turn her back on her , making his way in the direction of his room.

Their arranged marriage had been a union of convenience, a merger of two powerful countries, but the emotional distance between them was palpable. Tonight, however, C/N was determined to bridge that gap.

“Wait!” She called out to him, figuring it was either now or never. “Would you like to come in?”

She no longer wanted to feel lonely, she wanted the feel of his skin and the kiss that came from his lips. She wanted him to love her , like a husband loves a wife . In her books she had read of this love, when a man whispers sweet prayers into a woman’s ear, and begs that she do the same. She had experienced love from him physically, but wanted him emotionally. She wanted his heart to join with hers , she hoped he could see that.

His nod was all she needed .

She invited him into her room, making room for his tall and bulky frame.

“May I speak freely?”

He nodded again.

“We spend our nights alone though we are husband and wife. Why is it such?”

A crimson blush crept upon his cheeks and he shuffled uncomfortably, searching for an answer in the pure white tile.

“Vell-“

She abruptly cut him off.

“I want to know you as a wife knows her husband.”

“Ve have already come to knov eachother in zhat vhey.”

"No, we have not.”

"Then lets us."

The air was thick in their unspoken tension. His blue eyes bore into hers , making her feel small but not inferior to him. It was an odd feeling.

In the dimness of the room, she noticed his blush and his fumbling hands. She reckoned that he was shy. Even with all his military regalia and medals, he did not know how to come with a woman. Slowly but desperately , he closed in on their small gap, wetting her lips with his own.

His kiss was warm and his body hot against hers.

As their kisses grew more fervent, C/N stepped back slightly, her hands moving to the ties of her gown. With a slow, deliberate motion, she loosened them, the fabric falling away to reveal her bare skin. Germany's blue eyes widened, his gaze roaming over her body with a mixture of awe and desire. It was a feeling he had not felt in awhile. Even on their wedding night, he did not lust for her. It was a duty, a chore . But now, she was a goddess, her curves soft yet seductive , her nipples tight against the coldness of the room.

He removed his clothing and picked her slim body from the floor to throw her on her bed. He had chosen that bed for her, that much was true. It was purchased before their wedding in (C/N) of hopes that she would come to feel at home in her bedroom.

His touch ignited her body, creating a flame that warmed her body. She lusted for him, and he for her.

She grabbed his manhood, slowly pleasuring him until he felt it was right to insert himself. Her walls closed on him, creating a warm , wet embrace over his manhood. He thrust himself into her, over and over again.

It didn’t take long for him to release, with his seed pouring into her. As countries, it was highly unlikely that a child would conceive , but if one did , then it would become the land in which it was conceived.

(C/N) moved to the left of the bed, allowing Germany to sleep on the right.

"Gute Nacht," he whispered to her with a short kiss.

Germany would not return to his bed that night.

[enola6]

I Used to Never …

[enola6]

Tree of Yearning

Here are the links for the series Tree of Yearning

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[enola6]

Tree of Yearning

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+Chapter 3 | Flowerﾟ+..｡*ﾟ

Pious held the naked maiden by the forearm as she stumbled in her steps. Never had she been mated and she was nervous, that became evident in the way she walked and the slight tears  rolling down her face. The only light that allowed Pious to see her tears was the light coming from the pale moon.

“Does it hurt ?” She trilled to the experienced woman. “Mating, I mean,”

“Yes, it feels deadly. You will never get used to it either, their cocks are too big to fit into human holes comfortably,” Pious said as she gave the younger girl a glance. “But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love my master and I would do anything to service him,”

“What?” Alagona asked bewildered .

“Don’t worry, you will come to accept it.  My only job is to pleasure him and bless his ears with my lyre , though I have not been to successful,”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t successfully given birth, I’ve had three miscarriages since I’ve arrived. If I have one more they’ll use me as a comfort slave for the field slaves and gladiators,” Her eyes then lit up, “But now he has you, he won’t need me anymore !”

They stopped at the door. Pious looked at the young girl with a sincere look and whispered, “you’ll be fine, just listen to him and he won’t harm you”,

She opened the wooden door and left the scared girl to fend for herself. Alagona looked at her reflection in a sharded glass, no longer was she the innocent and virginal daughter of Lilieguard.

“Aren’t you a beautiful female,” she heard her new master say from the house. “So young and fertile, I can sense your innocence from a tribe away”, He walked even closer to her naked body and placed one of his large hands on her stomach. “You will be even more beautiful when your womb swells with my son,”

She didn’t look him in the eye, she kept her gaze down. Never in her life had she felt more exposed in the presence of a man. He was groping the unwilling girl and watched as she stood uncomfortably in his presence. 

The only light that illuminated her was the fire behind the hearth, but that was enough for him to lust over her body. All he could think about was bending her over and fucking her until she became fat with his child, and she would enjoy it like the good little whore she was. He had laid with many human women. After every successful pillage, he would line all the human females up and breed them with his large and erect cock. Sometimes they would cry, other times they would struggle, but none of that ever mattered to the man who just wanted to spread his seed. Hell, he probably had over a hundred children that he didn’t know about.

“Do you still have your maidenhood, or have you been touched by a man?” He asked her as he moved her over to the master bed that was in the center of the room. 

“Please don’t do this”, she begged. That was met with a harsh slap across the face as she fell to the floor near the hearth that was sizzling with fire.

“Answer the question!” He yelled. He began to remove his armor and weapons that he kept on his hilt ,and became undressed for the girl. “Answer it whore !”

“No,” she cried out and began crawling from him. “You will not touch me,”

“You feisty Lilieguardans,do you not know what you're doing to me?” He began to undo his trousers, as he stomped his boot down on her leg ,so she couldn’t crawl farther away. She whelped in pain and moved her head back in response to reflex. “I once raided your tribe. We lined all your women up and bred each and everyone of them, it was glorious. Perhaps your grandmother was a vessel for one of my spawn ?” 

Now he was fully naked, his clothing and armor were discarded on the floor along with his boots. Pious was right when she said that his cock was too big, she didn’t think it would ever fit in, and she worried for her maidenhood. All she could do was stare into the fire and await for what would happen to her.

“I will breed your young fertile body, I will make you accept the seed of my race in your tight fertile womb. You will swell with a soldier and he will be trained to view you as subordinate,” He knelt behind her as she struggled to grab an invisible rope that she imagined was infront of her. His knees kept hers apart as she knelt on all-fours as his fingers touched her cold clit. “So she is a maiden! Let me be the first to impregnate you, my slave”,

She cringed her face as she tried pulling her body away from his pelvis, but he latched his hands onto her small waist and pushed her closer to him. His hand graced his cock as he gently began to guide the piece of flesh inside of her.

‘No-”, Alagona screeched out as his tip was guided into her pussy. 

He slowly and steadily pushed his full groin into her. He knew that virgin females were tight , but they usually adjusted to him within thirty minutes of breeding. But Alagona was already wet and her pussy lips spread, it was as if her body knew to adhere to his desires.

He began to hump her viciously, his pelvis moving back and forth as his cock warmed up her pussy with his pre-cum. He looked animalistic as he humped her roughly, not letting her breath or catch her breathe. Some of his long grey hair fell into his face, but he never took his hands off the girl’s waist to fix it. 

She screamed, but he didn’t care. Usually, he could hear about five screams a night coming from the other roundhouses as his soliders bred their slaves for the first time. He remembers some of his soldiers looking especially glad on days he would prepare them for battle, it wasn’t until they would announce why, then he would understand. “I have received a son last night,” one would yell as they would all congratulate him on adding to the dark-elven population of warriors.

Her face became red with both anger and pleasure, as she began to make sounds of pain and stifle moans. Her mouth opened and it stayed open as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her tiny breasts that would soon grow fat with milk, swayed back and forth as she felt eminence pain in her vagina as blood started to pour.

He watched his cock move in and out of the girl as he raped her. Pleasure erupted through his body as he savored in every little detail, his primal instincts surely came out. He grew even more horny when he saw her blood coat his cock as he thrusts in and out.

His hands were almost engrained onto her waist as he stopped for a moment. Alagona perked her head up and wondered what was happening, however, she was surprised when he wrapped his right arm fully around her waist. He used his leverage to pick her waist up so she was closer to him. He then shoved himself into her again but this time he put his full length into her. She scratched in agony as she tried pulling away, but he continued to hump her mercilessly as her vagina turned a dark red from the sudden pain.

It wasn’t until an hour later did he finally come “Yes, milk my cock like the bitch you are,” He grunted as he continued to fuck her during his orgasm. “Your womb belongs to me,” he said as he grabbed her hair and brought her face up to his chest. He fucked her as she knelt , and until his cock grew soft inside of her to which he let go of her , so she was back on all-fours and pulled out. She felt his seed shoot up into her womb, most likely fertilizing an egg in the process.

“Ass up,” he commanded as he stood up and walked to a drawer. 

She kept her head down, but her eyes trailed to where he walked. She felt some of his seed spill out from her pussy and onto her leg, to which she quickly arched her back and moved her ass so it was stuck in the air. She felt dehumanized, never in her life would she assume her first mating would be forced. In her tribe, she wasn’t even old enough to wed nor mate, though there was a well-respected man whom had asked her father for her hand many times before. 

“What is it, my slave ?” he asked her as he noticed she suddenly became stiff in her position, her ass became perky and more accessible to him, which he found odd since she wasn’t entirely broken in yet. He jumped from the steps he stood on and circled around the girl. “That eager for a second-round are we? Now, where should we fuck this time…? Or maybe I should let you lay on my bed, would you like that, girl?” He asked her with a false sense of sincerity in his voice.

She decided whether to answer him or not but then she remembered what happened when she didn’t, he grew angry and slapped her across the face.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, master,”

He smirked, his hands moving down to stroke his cock as he imagined the fragile girl sucking him off. 

“Good, now did Pious inform you how you must submit to me in bed ?” He asked as he stalked towards her kneeling form. 

“No, master,” she replied. 

“Well then, I’ll show you”, He walked towards the foot of the bed and waited until he instructed her to stand near him. His seed kept dripping from her thighs with every step she took, it was rather humiliating to the slave. 

“Lay down,” he commanded, and she listened. Her back hit the soft sheets with comfort as she felt the urge to cradle herself with the beautiful silk. Never in her life had she felt something so soft and mystical. “Spread your legs, so that I shall have access to your womb,” She spread her legs but only as far as she could go before the canopy stopped her. She trembled in her place while she felt his hand travel up and down her body as his manhood pecked at her entrance. She could feel her vagina becoming hot as it craved his manhood to fuck her again. A tingling sensation, which she didn’t like, shot through her body as it craved his body on top of hers.

“My very own vessel,” He admired as he grabbed both her legs and lifted them in the air. The way he towered over her frightened her. Dark-elves were usually taller than men but she never imagined they would be giants, he was about seven-feet tall, taller than any man she’s ever seen.

He pumped his penis with his right hand a few times before pushing it into her soft folds, he then returned his hand to support her leg as they were kept in the air to ensure that all his seed would be kept inside her womb.

She felt the urge to screech when she shifted her head and saw the outline of his member from her abdomen. She grabbed onto the sheets on the bed, for the pain he was inflicting onto her was unbearable in ways more than one. 

She counted in her mind with every thrust he took.

“One,” He licks his lips as he stares at her sex.

“Two,” She remembers her capture.

“Three,” His grasp on her legs becomes harder and he pulls her more into him.

“Four,” He speeds up.

“Five,” He’s going too fast.

She stopped counting as he picked up his pace. Maybe it was out of boredom as well ? She slowly began to accept her fate, no longer was she thinking about running or escaping until he released inside of her once again. He came deep in her, so deep it made her back arch and her feet crinkle. He then let go of her legs, and grasped her forearms and pulled her closer to his pelvis . He so groaned loudly she could feel the vibrations from his voice while she was on the bed.

She coughed a dry cough as she struggled to breathe as he continued to fuck her through his orgasm. 

“Don’t move,” he said as he pulled out and stuck something up her vagina. 

“This,” He began to explain to her as he moved her legs so they were now closed. “will prevent my seed from escaping your womb. Do not remove it unless I command of it,”

She nodded and awaited his instruction to leave his bed, but he never gave one and moved over to chains that hung on the stone wall. “Disobey me, and this is where you shall be kept until I can confirm you are with child,” he said as he touched one of the metal cuffs. When he turned to the deflowered girl that trembled on his bed, he fought the urge to indulge into her once again.

She nodded. Tears were still evident in her eyes as she continued to lay.

“Go. Sleep for the night. Return to your quarters and serve me in the morning, as you let me use your body,”

“Yes, master” She stammered with her eyes wide open. She slowly arises and stumbled in her steps as she tried exiting her master’s house. Her lower body pained her, which made her fall a few times before she could reach the door. She couldn’t even walk properly, the poor girl. 

When the fresh air finally hit herself and she felt free in its grasps, did she only find it appropriate to weep for herself. She weeped a downpour just as her mother did when she got word that her daughter was most likely stolen by the dark elves.

[enola6]

Ianthe and the Gladiator

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Ianthe and the Gladiator

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Ianthe.

That was the name written on her bracelet - the name she had always been called. It was most likely the name of a former mistress or trader, but for now she was ‘Ianthe’. 

It was a name screamed, a name that was commanded, but never a name that was begged. For Ianthe had learned her place as a slave and did not wish to anger the fist of her master. That was until her mistress desired to cut her striking red hair to weave a capillamentum for herself to wear. She did not wish for that old hag to wear her hair, so she ran into the city and hid for days until she was caught by the guards, who recognized her markings and returned her to her master.

Rome was never kind to slaves, especially those with features deemed desirable. 

“That dreadful girl,” Nerilla was so angry she kicked over the vase her late husband had gifted her last spring. 

All the slaves in the household stood idly in a single line, not daring to move or flinch while watching the tantrum thrown by their superior. 

“Where is she?”

“She is locked in the cellar as ordered, mistress.”

“I am sending her to the gladiator games.”

No one said anything, but they all shared a consistent look of fear, for it was known what happened to girls sent to the arena after the games. As a girl, she wouldn’t fight but be a gift to the winner, who would breed her in the center of the arena for all to see. Sometimes they put up a fight, but usually they calmly bowed their heads and accepted their fate. Knowing Ianthe, she would put up a fight , which worried them.

So that night, the slave Prima hurried down to the cellar with the chain of heavy keys she had taken from their leader. Unlocking the heavy door, she became engulfed in the darkness , absorbed in the scent of salty tears and dried blood.

“Ianthe,” she called to the answer of whimpering and soot. “Ianthe, where does Nerilla have you chained?”

When she stepped into a pool of blood, she hit a soft, fleshy leg that had been damaged and bruised by the whip.  A whip her redheaded friend knew all too well. 

“Ianthe, oh you poor thing,” In all her years as a slave, she had never seen a woman so beaten and so wounded. Even during the war, when the Romans conquered her home, enslaving her people and enacting their fatal campaign. 

“I am alive. That is all Phanes has gifted me.”

“And I have news.”

“News of when I will die? Have the gods spoken to you?”

“No, Nerilla did.”

She picked herself up, now fully interested in what her sister slave was about to tell her.

“You are to be sent to the games.”

“The games?” She gasped and held her chest in shock. She was almost bare, for her blue tunic had been cut and slit at the chest, exposing her and causing her to become as cold as a corpse. “But I am woman; I am weak ; I can’t walk without a limp. How am I to fight a gladiator?” 

“You are not to fight, Ianthe.”

The woman she had come to know as a sister looked upon her with pity and woe. Not even she had the courage to educate her friend about what was to come.

“You are to be a gift.”

“No…”

“Do not worry,” Prima knelt down and poured oil on her lame woman’s open wounds. “For it is rumored that Vitus’ slave Septimus will be fighting, and he is almost free. He may petition to keep you as his own.”

“Is he almost free?”

And Prima nodded, giving her friend hope of escape.

So in the morning, Prima made sure to keep close to her mistress to overhear the date and competitors of the next match. She soon confirmed that Septimus would be fighting and that the match would be held in a few days. All the while, Ianthe was being held in the cellar, starved and void of light. It had been days before she was finally let out, but Nerilla decided to still starve her slave of the glow of light. 

As soon as she was guided from her dank prison, a mask cloth was tied around her eyes. It was something she never expected to pray for, but every day she prayed that Helios would rip her from her clothed prison and allow the sun to warm her skin and bless her eyes. As the sun in Corinth was when she was young and free.

One day, her prayer for sun would be answered. 

Prima visited her sister slave that morning with olive oils and a vase of fresh water. She lathered Ianthe’s naked body in the oils, then scrubbed it off with her own cloth and water. The cloth of her tunic, a part of it she had ripped from the one item she owned, she allowed to become dirtied for the sake of her friend’s beauty.

She was fed a Pomegranate, which stained the pinkness of her lips. It was rumored to boost fertility in the times of Jupiter . Ianthe hoped that becoming with child would allow pity to be bestowed upon her, something she most dearly needed.

 Most slaves were discarded after the games  , but Ianthe wished Septimus would enjoy her and keep her as his own. She did not want to be killed or, even worse, be sent back to Nerilla. 

She was forced to stand in the pit next to her mistress, still with the cloth over her eyes, to avoid the sun. Unable to see the gladiators fighting, she could only make out who was winning through the yells of the crowd. 

“That large fellow over there. Though you cannot see him, he will be the one to deflower you, you criminal,” her mistress whispered in her ear. “It is what you deserve, Ianthe. After all, you need to be taught a lesson.”

“Ede faecam,” she responded in a tone that would’ve gotten her killed if she had not been reserved for her current punishment. 

Soon, the scent of blood filled the air and, with it, the cheers of an unforgiving crowd. It was then she began to breathe heavily, nearly breaking out of the rope she had been forced into. She yearned for the sun, and that was what she was allowed when she suddenly found herself in the center of the arena. A rough hand cut her blindness from behind, allowing her to eventually see the world around her. But her eyes did not wish to see , and she stumbled back, hitting a bulking frame who attempted to save her from her fall but failed. 

Her head hit the hard ground, and she screamed and clenched her eyes shut, the newfound sun blinding her. She did not know what to do , so she simply screamed, as she had done as a child. The entire colosseum roared in laughter, laughing at the small slave as she laid in the shadow of the Gladiator. 

He picked her up, using her shoulders to give her balance. It was then she was able to awaken her sense of sight, looking up at the towering man. She had recognized him from the streets of Rome and the graffiti that featured his victorious name and strength. Her mistress had bet on him several times before, boasting to her confidants about the money she had won.

���Πραΰς,” he muttered to her in her native language. He reached out to her cheek, stroking her soft skin with his woundedness. Never had anyone been so still in his arms, especially in the arena. It got him excited, almost making him feel powerful, given his title. “You will not struggle, or I shall kill you. It is my right.”

“I am not the slave of Septimus but of Nerilla,” she looked crazed , her eyebrows creating wrinkles on her forehead as she pushed them up with unease.

“I have won.”  

He turned her body around, ripping her dress from behind.

“I am Victor.”

He pushed her to the ground by her shoulders, forcing her knees to become buried in the ground.

“I am free.”

She stared at the crowd in front of her and wished that her blindfold was still tied around her eyes.

“If I shall enjoy you, then I will keep you.” He kneeled down behind her, smacking her buttocks, making her gasp. “But if I find you unwilling, I will kill you. Now, I am your master, and you are my slave.” 

He poked at her pussy lips with his hardening cock, determining if he should go slowly or roughly. But then he realized that she was his prize, a lowly slave who was available for him to use and do as he wished.

He wanted her to feel pain. To wish she was dead, for that was the only emotion he knew to inflict. 

Slowly, he inserted himself into her. She began to attempt to push away, but he used his strength to grab onto her legs and draw her closer to him. He groaned. Feeling her tightness hug around his bulging and growing cock. He began humping into her, using his free hand to take hold of her hair and pull so that she was forced to stare into the crowd of spectators. 

It was a feeling she did not expect. She felt a mix of pain and pleasure, a moan flying from her mouth. 

“You like that, you little whore?”

Feeling ashamed, she did not respond. So hearing silence, he became rougher and faster , causing her to bleed.

“Your master asked a question,” he pulled from her and stood tall, grabbing her from the floor, positioning her so that she was bending over. “You may be too small to carry my seed, but I will force myself until you are bred and unable to walk.”

He inserted himself again, this time faster, which caused her to leap and gasp.

“Please,” she began to plead, “please keep me as your own, and I promise to reserve my pussy for your seed so that only you are allowed to defile me in such a way.”

“With me, you will never be free.” He grabbed her neck and forced her to look upon his scared face. “If you escape from me, I will not be as forgiving as your old master.”

Her lust was palpable with a red face and aroused pussy, and he noticed. He used his hand to grip onto her pussy, rubbing her forcefully as he fucked her from behind. 

“You’re my little girl,” he spat on her face. “You were made for me, Ianthe.”

The way he said her name caused her to squirm in his arms. 

The crowd watched eagerly, waiting for him to breed the slave girl. They grew impatient, but her echoing moans subsided for some entertainment in the meantime. 

“My body, my soul and my womb are yours, master.” 

And with those nine words, he came into her , fertilizing her womanly body with his warrior seed. She will give him sons whom he will eventually send to the arena to fight for his glory.

He picked up her tired, fragile body before she collapsed into the floor. Setting her on his shoulder, he strode from the arena to never visit it again. Beyond the trials of the gladiator arena, he kept her in the shackles of his home, far from Rome. There was nowhere for her run, not that she ever thought of the idea for his arms of steel frightened her.

[enola6]

Thrawn II- A Traitress to the Empire

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In the vast embrace of spring’s offspring, which sent seeds to sprawl across the grand garden of the Batonnese castle, a beloved young queen sat on her cushions and played her double viol as her ladies in waiting watched and sipped on imported quanya . It was very rare that the queen was seen without her heavy crowns and dresses with trains so long they would need to be carried by servants or the castle’s handmaidens. A soft ‘meow’ was heard , causing a palace guard to turn around into the hallway , no longer on the balcony where the women lay. It was only Jankie. Taking advantage of the opened door, she ran and jumped on her mistress, who jolted when the new weight was added to her stomach.

“Kayyidl,” the Queen called to her guard; she did not even need to turn to know which one of them had accidentally made way for the loth-cat to find herself onto the delicate robes of her mistress. “You see , if that was an enemy of house (L/N)-Mitth, I would have been penetrated by some sort of saber or blaster by now, no?”

She arose from her cushion with Jankie in her hands as the handmaidens and noble ladies laughed , all the while Kayyidl blushed under his armor. She offered him a kind smile and handed the tiny creature to Uiona , one of her ladies in waiting, who stood so proud to wear the symbolic jewelry of the Queen’s crest. 

“I apologize , my princess …” He stuttered when he caught his mistake and stumbled upon his words , “I mean, Lady Mitth.”

“What are you , corporal? An imperial?” The Lady Mona inquired with a large smile.

“She is ‘Her royal majesty, the Queen (Y/N) Mitth'raw'nuruodo of Batonn, Acting Empress of the Batonn sector and Chief of Batonn’s Minning Operations.’”

“I can never say that Chiss name correctly.” One of the ladies remarked.

“Neither can I. My brother can say it perfectly.” (Y/N) strolled over to the edge of the balcony, where she peered over. Placing both hands on the stone railing, she gazed onto the fields of green. Only in spring would you  see such a thing. It was then that she noticed a walking figure. A tall figure in the traditional clothing of a Batonnese Count. “Knowing him, he sat in a dark room alone and practiced it over and over and over again.” 

The ladies laughed, and she waited for the inevitable question as to how her handsome and eligible bachelor brother was doing in the imperial navy.

As the Queen so commonly did , she remarked, “I must go,” and lifted her skirts, and ran from the balcony and the everlasting hallways that never seemed to end. The women called after her, but she ignored them all to rush down the many stairs which brought her to the ground floor. The castle servants, being used to (Y/N)’s outbursts , still bowed to her dashing frame and greeted her as they would if she walked . 

Pushing open the heavy doors, her hair flew in the wind, and her shawl nearly fell from her shoulders. 

“Clvtorig!” she called to the man who fell to rest on the field of grass. “Clvtorig!” He heard her very well and clear over the chirps of birds and buzzing of bees , new to spring. He groaned and acted annoyed when she kicked him with her foot. “Count Clvtorig, did you suddenly go deaf after your little vacation to Coruscant?”

“A vacation hardly , my queen. Listening to imps gossip will drive even the strongest man insane.” 

“Get up,” she kicked once again.

The Count rolled to his side, now turning from the sky to the waterway that separated the castle from the rest of Paeragosto City. As lively as ever, speeders and people roamed the streets and roads; their buzz could be heard from the gardens. Instead of getting up as ordered, Clvtorig grabbed (Y/N) by her ankles so as to drag her down to the comfort of the soft grass. “Ask your gardeners what they use to fertilize this grass , will you? I plan to make  the grass at my estate as soft as her royal majesty's.”

“And soft grass you will have, your grace, if only you will tell me what they say about Lady Mitth on Coruscant.” Her laugh was music to his ears, for it was genuine and true, unlike the laughs heard on Coruscant.  And because of this, he smiled and turned to her, dangerously close.

Ever since her marriage and forced introduction into imperial society, (Y/N) had tasked Count Clvtorig Tronstad of Paeragosto with attending the social gatherings on Coruscant as a spy to hear the gossip as she put it. No, he wasn’t a spy according to the young Queen of Batonn, he was simply a listener . He would fly back to Batonn with all the latest gossip coming from the mouths of fat imperial wives. In return , she paid him a hefty sum of credits . But he was an old friend, the Queen and him had played in the hidden oases since they were young. They were almost engaged , but then Thrawn forced himself into the house of (L/N). He thought of all the times he spent with her in their youth, then was brought back to maddening reality. 

“There are rumors,” he replied.

“Rumors?” She gestured to her bump. “I suppose this has something to do with it?”

“Yes, (Y/N), rumors and no, little Thrawn has nothing to do with it. They say that you are having an affair which explains as to why you have been consistently seen on Scrim Island and outside Paeragosto.” He yawned, then started making designs with the clouds in the ever-blue sky , “It seems we have a spy in our midsts.” 

(Y/N) used her arm to support herself as she lifted her head from the grass, her face was obviously red with frustration and anger as her other hand was used to grip the grass from its stems.

“Oh?”

“Hold it All mighty empress of the Batonn Sector. Would you rather have them believe you are having an affair , or that you are aiding rebels?”

Her grip loosened and she laid back down.

“Who says such things?”

“Thalassa Tarkin.”

“Oh that dreadful woman, she’s hated me since I was introduced as the Grand Admiral’s wife.”

“Well, she’s going to hate you even more when the little chiss is born. You know, she was even telling the other imps about your ‘friendship’ and about how close you two are . She was even speaking of coming to this ‘uncivilized’ planet to help you give birth .”

“And why would she ever do such a thing?”

“Well (Y/N), because your parents are dead and you have no one else to help you go through an alien pregnancy which could possibly kill you.”

“I have Seren, thank you very much.”

“Seren of Flor?” Clvtorig questioned with an eyebrow raised. (Y/N) always found it funny when he did that. “The Last time she had a child was a millennium ago.”

(Y/N) arose and began pacing around the soft grass . She couldn’t help but laugh and lose her train of thought, nearly tripping on nothing. 

‘Well I guess you’re right.” Then she snapped and pointed at him as if she had thought of something smarter “Lady Okann Veath.”

“Didn’t she die in the Creekpath Mining explosion, something that Pryce girl blames you for , by the way.”

“Do not forget that I was attending school on Hosnian Prime when the mine exploded. Also, my cousin married a Pryce , she should show me the same respect as family .”

“Isn’t the killer coming to Batonn to visit .”

(Y/N) offered her dear friend a kind smile and picked a blue flower from the grass. “My husband comes today.” she held the small thing to her nose and smelled a foreign scent unfamiliar to Batonn. “ The imperials have allegedly found a new source of doonium just north of the continent.”

“Will Tannian arrive with the party?”

“Party? It is only the Grand Admiral .”

“The Grand Admiral and the Tarkins…”

“The Tarkins!” she yelled a little too  loudly.

Strong wind blew from behind the Queen, nearly pushing her over onto the Count. She moved her hands so that they would block her hair from blowing into her eyes as she looked into the sky.

“It seems that is them.” He watched her eyes widen and focus on the grey that clouded the sky, casting a shadow over both of them before landing on a pad. “ I would run along now, little empress. You don’t want Thalassa seeing you in anything but your best ”

When he turned, she was no longer there but yards away from where she previously lay. The white of her loose dress danced in the wind, getting tangled in the (H/C) of her hair which she wore down, something unbecoming of a Batonnese queen who was expected to always look her best.

“Run (Y/N)! Run!”

But this young queen was at odds with some traditions passed from her forefathers, or so it seemed. For instance, one incident most could remember was when the Queen did not remove her crown when greeting Governor Restos and Grand Moff Tarkin ,whom governed Batonn and the Outer Rim therefore ranking above her. Oh all the gossip it caused was unbearable for that was all anyone would speak of until the next scandal occurred. It was Batonnese tradition when greeting one higher than you, the Emperor of the Batonn Sector for instance, to remove and hold your crown as a symbol of submission, though the Queen refused to do so. 

Many just brushed it off as ignorance but she later removed her crown when her brother arrived. 

For all imperial officers outranked those in a traditional monarchy.

“Uiona!” she called to the sole woman in her bedchamber. The doors made a tremendous sound when they were cast open , startling Jankie who awoke from her slumber. “My husband has arrived and I am not decent….” she stuttered as she looked around the closet for something quick and easy to put on.

“Your Majesty …” and (Y/N) turned to the woman she had long called the swiftest to see her holding her dress-military uniform. “It would be the fastest to put on… if we skip a few medals.” 

She simply nodded and began to hastily undress.

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Her boots made clacks against the cold floor, alerting the guards and servants of her presence. They all knelt when she passed them, her handmaidens following behind her in dresses of black and gold to compliment the Queen’s military uniform ; some of them seemed mad that they had to quickly change, one of them more than the others. They always wore garbs which were mundane but intricate to compliment what their Queen wore. For the Queen was always meant to be the prime focus when she entered a room, whether she liked it or not .

She reached the immaculate doors, looking up to the window which was above it. She couldn’t see the shuttle , but she knew it was there. She could feel it. “Guards.” acknowledged them and suddenly she felt small and meek. The last time she had seen Thrawn, it was when she was coronated. She had been pressured by her brother to sleep with him, to have his child in hopes of protecting her family. Though she highly doubted even sharing his blood would protect the Batonnese crown, or at least allow for some leniency. Uiona noticed her feel the part of her uniform which covered her womb, she only slightly showed but it was noticeable to anyone who stared at her for a while.

He had written to her , but she had not yet notified him personally of her pregnancy. She wondered how he would react, she wondered how her people would react. He was Chiss, cold and feared. And though the Batonnese were diverse and educated on aliens and near-humans, she feared the integration of an imperial alien into the pureness of Batonn’s royal blood would create even more tension than what was already present. 

“Guards!” She called, “Open the door.”

And the doors opened as she ordered. 

The light blinded her and she fought the urge to turn and run back to the sanctuary of her bedchamber. 

She stepped forward and took a large breath. ‘

“I present to the The Honorable Queen and acting Empress (Y/N) Mitth of Batonn and the Batonn Sector,” she stared straight into the abyss, avoiding eye contact with the imperials who stood before her. “Grand Moff Tarkin , his consort Lady Thalassa Tarkin and Grand Admiral Thrawn, consort to the Queen of Batonn. Batonn welcomes you.” The announcer stopped his yell and bowed to the two groups of people. An evident tension appeared between them . 

Guards of Batonn stared down stormtroopers who nudged them and strolled in front of them, even catching the attention of the Queen.

“Lady Tarkin, Gentleman,” she officially greeted, looking down at the older woman, “It is always a pleasure though I admit you caught me off guard,” she wanted to mention the disturbance of Lady Tarkin though she decided to avoid conflict with the dreadful woman, anything to avoid a conversation. “You see I was riding in the fields.”

“Do you truly believe you should be riding in your condition?” and the Governor's wife gestured to the Queen’s bump, bringing up the unbearable. The screech of trumpets could not mask the malevolence in the crone’s voice. If only they were on a barren world resting in the unknown regions, then she would have her way the Queen thought.

“A little riding cannot hurt one’s-”

“Oh Grand Admiral, are you not happy I am here ? Your young wife is so helpless she could kill your heir-.”

“Enough, Thalassa.” Grand Moff Tarkin hushed his wife while simultaneously looking upon the Batonnese Queen who never seemed to enjoy his sinister presence. “Lady Mitth, it's a pleasure to be welcomed so graciously. Your planet is as impressive as reports say. I look forward to seeing the growing potential Batonn has in aiding the Empire.”

“The pleasure is mine, Governor. My people are honored by your presence and this is Lady Tarkin’s first tour of Batonn so we hope to impress you with our dedication to the empire.”  

(Y/N) looked upon her arranged husband with a face that simply showed confusion and guilt, an odd combination . She had secretly wished that he would have arrived before the Tarkins , so that they were allowed some alone time. She would tell him that she had secretly missed him, but the words would just simply escape her lips as she became overwhelmed in the moment.

“Your highness,” Uiona approached the Queen and whispered so faintly even she could barely hear, “The kitchen staff have a meal prepared for your guests.”

“Very well,” she beckoned to a guard with her hand to get ready and close the door. “We have a meal prepared for you , my handmaidens will escort you to your rooms , then to the dining room where I will join you. Now excuse me.”

A guard situated on the highest tower of the castle lit a blue fire, a symbol of a visitor arriving. It glistened and grew larger and larger as the sun set. The growing fire almost obscured his view of the landing pad, but he could still see his dear friend and noble Queen. He stared down at the launch pad where the shuttle still laid. His black mask of fabric blew in his eyes with his eyeshadow rubbing on the already black fabric. From the sheer black, he watched his Queen stand to the left, her hair blowing in the wind as it came out of her bun. He smiled, her loose hair must have been the product of his long conversation with her in the garden. 

The palace staff had already been stiff following the arrival of Governor Restos who had originally roomed in a large bedchamber on the first floor. But he complained of the view overlooking the city, complaining that the soot from the mines would travel to his room and cause him to fall ill. So he ordered that he be moved to the second floor.

When (Y/N) originally heard of his order she found it to be peculiar for the city, though viewable from the window, was still many miles away. But she had more pressing matters at hand. And that pressing matter had just strolled into her home. 

“Ladies,” the queen vocalized as she took off her cover, letting the door close behind her. “Tend to Governor Tarkin and his wife , show them the same respect you  would show me.” They all bowed and gave the robotic “yes, your majesty” and went along their way.

She was then left alone in the echoing chamber.

She slouched and ran her hand through her hair, sighing as her eyes became watery. Maybe it was the stress of being queen, or maybe it was the flux of hormones that came with pregnancy… she didn’t know.

“Your majesty!” 

The Queen turned to her handmaiden , Shínrin, who bowed to her queen and held a little green box. 

“The Grand Admiral is staying in your royal bedchamber  and is there right now. I… I just wanted to notify you.”

“Of course.” and she nodded, dismissing the handmaiden who bowed and shuffled in the direction of the dinning hall. 

“Wait, your majesty.” and the girl came running back with the utmost haste, not caring if anyone saw her act in such an indecent matter. It even caused (Y/N)’s eyes to widen , never seeing Shínrin act in such a manner. Shínrin was a woman who came from the northern city of Tavonia , a city which held the chateaus of many high ranking imperial officers, it was also a city which went against the orders of the king and sided with the empire and housed their missiles deep within their majestic mountains. Those mountains are beautiful but covered with sand. It is where (Y/N) met Shínrin, many years ago over a short summer holiday to her father’s chateau, where the future queen was first introduced to the imperial flag.  It is even rumored that Shínrin broke her betroval to a rebel sympathizer, only for his political views which very much mattered in the political climate of Batonn. “I was told to hand you this.” 

The green box was handed to (Y/N) who looked down at the box and ran her fingers over its surface.

“By who?”

“A man who came walking down the stairs… I must go”  

She seemed in such a hurry, nearly tripping over her own dress. (Y/N) watched her scurry and placing the tiny box in her brassière, she decided to investigate it later.

(Y/N) then looked to the large stairway that seemed to reach the moon.

 ‘A long ways trek to my room’ she thought.

She began walking up the stairs, counting each step. She twiddled her cover , her only distraction from the overly lit staircase. 

Though it felt like an eternity, she soonly reached her room but paused before entering. Guards moved from her way as she dismissed them , always obeying their queen. 

Hell, it was her room , she should feel comfortable entering and undressing in her own room. A room in which she had resided since birth; where she had wrapped her dying father’s wounds and where her unborn child was conceived. Where a sparrow dies, an everlily grows. 

She felt anxious opening the door, but saw no one once she stepped in and looked around. Letting out a sigh of relief , she removed her coat and threw it on her vanity stool. Her blouse simply fell from her shoulders and reached the ledge of the stool, the box unknowingly falling to the floor.

There was a dress already prepared for her , hanging on the wall near the vanity. Looking around the room, she noticed luggage that had the tags of an imperial officer and wanted to vomit. They were empty, meaning that the contents of the bags had already been emptied and put away somewhere in her room. She kicked the trash with her foot, already beginning to dress in the white dress Uiona had most likely  prepared for her. Usually, handmaidens would help her dress, but she had ordered all of them with other tasks. Besides , how hard was it to button a dress? Well, it was proving to be quite difficult for the buttons sewed into the back of her dress where proving difficult  to reach. 

She was so concentrated on her dress that she did not notice her guest walk from the balcony. He had been there the whole time, admiring the scenery of a planet he once fought.

“My wife, your presence brings light to this vacuous room.”

Whipping her head around  she gasped and rendered a “hello, husband.” while holding the fabric of her dress. How awkward . She related herself to be almost naked with an open back. 

“I admit I did not expect you to come so early I admit. I apologize for the bedraggled and void state of our room.”

“No need to apologize,” he strolled over and buttoned the back of her dress as if he had done so many times before. “I understand you are preparing for an expected change.”

She turned to face him once he placed his warm hands on her shoulders, signaling to her he was done. 

“I wanted to tell you in person. To show you…”

“It seems we have much to discuss , (Y/N). I have neglected you for far too long.” He caught a loose piece of her hair and moved his gaze to his new fascination. (Y/N) only held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t question her on her whereabouts. “But that unfortunately will have to wait .” he offered her his arm and she latched onto it.

“Let us join your guests. Then we will have our much needed alone time.”

Crunching her nose, she wondered what he meant by that statement that seemed to so easily dance off the tip of his tongue . The setting sun offered minimal light as they left the room, but it managed to sculpt his face and showcase his blank expression. ‘Always such a Chiss.’ she thought.

Behind her dress there was a long cape made of clear crystals and gems which had been mined from the innards of her planet. She remembered the gems being presented to her father once, and he handpicked the shiniest ones to be sewed into her mother’s clothing. This cape once belonged to her mother, but the regalness now sits in (Y/N)’s closet. 

The door to the dining room was opened and the couple walked in, their auras contrasting with each other. It was noticed by the handmaidens who stood against the wall and the guardsmen who had opened the door, one of them recognized her mother’s cape. Thalassa turned her head and followed the two handmaidens who came and detached the cape from her dress to allow her to properly sit with her eyes. 

“Now that is the Queen of Batonn.” Thalassa exclaimed, “That is the stately woman I’ve read so much about. Not that savage mess you presented yourself as only an hour ago.”

(Y/N) noticed Governor Tarkin rub his face into his palm, obviously annoyed at his wife. 

She took her seat, not at the head of the table where she usually sat but towards the side. Well, she was about to sit in her usual seat before the smaller chair to the side next to Governor Restos was pulled out by Thrawn, awaiting her to sit before he tucked it in. Thrawn and Governor Tarkin both claimed the head seats with immediate and taut superiority. In an open and exhausting way , (Y/N) pouted, but only a little so as to not make it obvious to no other than her husband. She would surely bring this up during their talk tonight.

“Well, Lady Tarkin,” (Y/N) began to speak, noticing that the woman and her husband had already began eating “I apologize if my appearance so heavily offended-” 

“Why were you wearing the same uniform your people wore while fighting against the forces of my husband and yours?” she questioned sternly before turning to her husband , “surely you will not allow such a thing.” 

Tarkin rolled his eyes as Restos placed his fork down and swallowed his last serving of potatoes. 

“We allowed the Batonnese to keep their uniforms due to the morranshees.”

“The native species.” (Y/N) chimed.

“We found that the morranshees were more responsive to their uniforms rather than ours due to their incredibly strong recognition.”

Morranshees had only seen the face of the queen they hated so once, and it had been when the Queen was only a young princess. It was cold that day, so cold that it froze the lake on her grandmother’s estate, allowing her to skate. Everyone else had been growing warm inside when a Morranshee came with his staff and smacked her against a tree which stood tall but no longer proud. It was a visiting jedi who saved her, though she no longer remembered his name.

They hated the crown. They hated her. Her forefathers had enslaved them to work in the mines, and now they were being exported to different parts of the galaxy. 

“You have no need to fret, my Lady” Restos continued “We made sure any Morranshee settlements within a certain radius were swept. Destroyed.”

“Well , it seems that I won’t be leaving the castle.” she joked with a guffawing laugh.

Thrawn studied his wife and the reaction she was cloaking. Over time it became easier to read her, as with all humans. Looking at her hands, he noticed her clenching the knife and fork which caused her knuckles to turn pink. He also noticed the quick and disguised smile she flashed at her before taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh no,dear. Don’t drink that.” and the older woman walked from her seat and snatched the drink from (Y/N)’s hand. It was a glass of quanya, something she had served to the rest of her guests. “It will hurt the baby.” 

The Queen remained frozen , unable to even move the tiniest muscle besides her left eye which twitched. It had been many years since a nanny had removed something forcibly from her hands. Such a simple action made her feel as though she were a child who did not know right from wrong. It was unbelievable , but (Y/N) looked at her husband and decided to bite her tongue as Lady Tarkin endlessly babbled about “how grateful the grand admbril should be that she was here to watch after his  young wife”.

She found the words being spatted from the woman’s mouth to be doltish. It seemed her husband felt the same.

“Now that that's over.” the Grand Moff placed his napkin on his plate, indicating that he had finished dining. “Lady Mitth, there is a rumor that you will inherit the late Senator Ruser’s seat on Coruscant.”

It was her brother Ruser who had inherited the throne from her father and therefore he also inherited the seat on the senate. He wasn’t trusted nor was he liked by the others who shared seats with him on Coruscant , so he was Governor Pryce and the traitor prince who wished them all dead. Truth be told, she had only been to Coruscant once and that was to visit her brother and his promotion ceremony. She rarely left Batonn.

“I think Lady Mitth will make an excellent senator. With her devotion to the empire and imperial navy , she’ll certainly win some allies once we allocate our mining projects to the military.” Restos said as he turned to Thrawn , as if the queen no longer existed in the room. He ignored her as he had always done before.

“Well, that will have to wait, Governor.” The Queen interrupted, “For i’d prefer to stay on Batonn in my state.”

“I would much prefer it if you remained with Imperial medical care.” Thrawn voiced to his wife. “Hybrid pregnancies are known to be quite treacherous.”

“The future sovereign of Batonn will be born on Batonn.”  She almost wanted to laugh.

Her handmaidens grew uneasy for they feared that their queen would say something else even more dense which would lead to another punishment bestowed upon her. Shínrin’s knuckles grew yellow as the pitcher she held shook due to her clenching. Her eyes watched Thrawn, understanding his body language through countless spying and eavesdropping. Glancing at the disguised Count Clvtorig, who wore the armor of a palace guard, she noticed him shake his head at the Queen , hoping she would notice his signals of succor.

The Grand Admiral, The Grand Moff and the Batonnese Governor looked amongst each other. For it was believed by Governor Restos and Tarkin that the vexed queen would become more subservient to her husband and the empire once she grew with child. It was even the Grand Moff who astonishingly suggested that Thrawn impregnate his bride as soon as he was able, after it was found that parts of her family had aided the rebels. Though no evidence of her interception in the attack was found, Tarkin had his suspicions. 

The Grand Admiral stood at parade rest in the dim room as he discussed the presence of his fleet with Governor Tarkin over the holoprojector. It was meant to be a quick call , but Tarkin had just been given records from Governor Pryce indicating that a certain Batonnese senator had been stealing and reprogramming imperial droids , turning them on their own. Thrawn listened carefully and closely , surprised by the senator's betrayal.

“So the senator and all those who corresponded in this attack will be executed.” Tarkin explained, concluding his report. “I am sending an agent to Batonn for I suspect the Princess was aware of this interception… of sorts.”

“We should just execute them all.” Captain Slavic spat , speaking without turn. “These Batonnese are proving to be more of a liability than asset.”

“Retaining Batonn’s monarchy is essential in the compliance of the Batonnese people.” Thrawn replied to his subordinate , “To understand why the emperor opted to conserve their monarchy is to understand their culture. The Batonn Insurgency would have suffered far more casualties if the monarchy was stripped.” 

Tarkin paused for a moment before returning to speech .

“Captain, you are dismissed. Return to your duties.” 

Tarkin watched as the younger man faded from the holoprojector. Now it was solely him and the Grand Admiral. He related the marital and political issues of the Grand Admiral to his own, for  Garoche seemed to have kept Thalassa occupied before he grew.

“Grand Admiral, might I suggest start a family with the princess . It would surely shut her up and keep her from trouble . It would also send a sign I believe, a sign of submission to the empire.”

“I will surely take that into consideration, Governor.”

“I am authorizing shore leave for you , go to Batonn and see what you can do.”

Having a child with a human woman , no less the pure Queen of an important planet, would also help the chiss become more accepted by the xenophobic humans who littered the empire. And Thrawn did admit that after introducing (Y/N) (L/N) Mitth'raw'nuruodo as his wife, he saw less of the common scorn of his human coworkers. He also noticed more compliance.

“I have already arranged for your departure to Coruscant with the best doctors-”

“My child will be born on Batonn!” 

And though she did not yell, it was made apparent that she did. 

“Lady Mitth,” Tarkin interrupted the nearly arguing couple, “It seems that you have forgotten that you are a Mitth, no longer a (L/N).”

“I feel comfortable with the midwife I have selected-”

The queen’s voice drained as Clvtorig went into the kitchen, signaling to the handmaiden Shínrin and Goi to follow suit. The  handmaidens both took their pitchers with them of course, careful as to not spill the liquid which was inside. No one at the table noticed, for they now bickered about the leniency of acceptance at the Royal Imperial Academy, something (Y/N) sat out of.

The kitchen bustled as always. This time however, stormtroopers stood inside and watched to make sure no food was poisoned (though it seemed as if they had become drowsy and dozed off). Clvtorig led the woman to the back, just in case anyone saw them speaking. 

“Here” he said as he revealed a sachet of pills which hid in his breastplate. “Dissolve these into your drinks. It will hopefully end this comedy.”

“What will it do?” Goi intrigued, sniffing the liquid. 

“Just make them drowsy, like them.” 

The group looked at the sleeping stormtroopers and laughed. They laid lamely, Helmets nearly off and blasters just laying carelessly on the floor.

“Will it work on the consort?”

“No . No. No. Don’t use any on Thrawn or her majesty. I need her to view the chip before they have their meeting.”

“So why not use it on Thrawn?”

“I don’t think it will work on his anatomy, I admit. I only have a little so use it on the ones whom I have briefed you on.”

“As you wish, Your Excellency.”

They each offered a respectful bow before stepping back into the room, holding the tainted pitcher. With a silent prayer, the count wished the girls would remember not to pour into the Queen’s cup—the mark on the chalice needed to be witnessed by her sorrowful gaze. Her eyes, witnesses to endless suffering, spoke volumes of pain. Adjusting his helmet to avoid obstructing his view, he carefully secured it back in place. After methodically counting to twenty twenty times, he returned to the room, taking his position to the left of the door.

It didn’t take long before the Tarkins and the Governor began to feel drowsy, cutting their answers and arguments shorter and shorter by the second . 

(Y/N) chuckled to herself before taking a sip of water. 

“Well , that must have been a long ride.”

“Perhaps.” Thrawn responded to his wife, cutting his answer short. In reality, they had argued the whole ride, not realizing they reached the outerim until they landed. 

“It seems we have all finished.” Thrawn stod, ending the dinner with his words. “My wife and I shall retire. I suggest you all do the same . We have an impactful day tomorrow.”

He presented his hand to (Y/N), who took his hand and elevated herself with such grace.

“Ladies,” the Queen called to her handmaidens. “Please guide our guests to their rooms.” 

It wasn’t until (Y/N) soaked in her tub did she beckon her husband, questioning him as to why the Lady Tarkin traveled with him. Thrawn sat in clothes suitable for sleep at the window, reading a novel which had appeared when he had searched the palace library . 

“Lady Tarkin came as a courtesy. I was not opposed to the idea , it was actually proposed to me-”

“She came uninvited to my house.” (Y/N) pouted.

“Did no one inform you?”

She looked around, only moving her eyes before uttering a suspicious “no”.

“She rarely even invites me to her parties on Coruscant.”

“That hasn't stopped you from attending when you seem fit.”

Suddenly she let out a laugh before arising from her tub. It just so happened that the Grand Admiral had turned around, fixing on the nakedness of her slightly swollen womb. It was his seed inside of her, growing in her womb. The inevitable human and chiss child intrigued him. Secretly , he wondered if the child would look  more like  him or more like his wife. But the Grand Admiral did not have time to start a family, marrying and having a child was his duty, not a want.

In reality, this was all proving to be a liability . But he knew the emperor’s game.

“Please Thrawn, that was only two times. Two times I regret.”

She stepped into her house shoes and then into her night dress and walked from the bathroom and crawled into bed.

“What are we naming it?” she asked when he entered. Thrawn paused before allowing her to speak again. “Will it be given a chiss name or a human name? Will it be raised on Batonn or your apartment on coruscant? Is this our last child?”

“My wife, you ask questions in which I do not know the answer to.”

“Well… these are questions one usually asks the father of their child.”

“If they are to succeed in the imperial academy-”

“The Imperial academy!” The expecting mother jolted from the bed and looked into the gleaming red eyes of her loathsome husband. It came as a shock to her really , and she couldn’t help but wonder if her brother had anything to do with this arrangement. “No, my child… our child… he shall be the next king so that I may die happily knowing the line of Batonn is secured.”

“You don’t seem to realize your current reality.” He was calm when he spoke, something that angered (Y/N) to no end. “ Your opinion on my offspring’s future will not be taken into consideration, your royal highness. You are a servant of the empire and it is time you accept your position , there are rumors… the senate wants to get rid of your monarchy all together.”

“Making me a senator would only do such a thing.” For it was true. She would be occupied with matters  in the senate, no longer able to sustain the cultural relationship she had with her people. Thrawn was smart, but she was smarter. Or so she thought.

“Your highness,” he stood tall and it almost intimidated her for the room was dark and his eyes were bright. “I advise you to keep your head down. You are growing unpopular in the senate ”

She knew what he meant.

She knew he knew.

They looked at each other  and suddenly , (Y/N) arose from her bed as the room began to shrink and dissipate as she feared was the inevitable fate of Batonn. 

 "I will not let the Empire erase our heritage, Thrawn, for it seems as if that has already been done.” Although he was on the other side of the bed, she felt as if he were close, strangling her with his sanguinary hands.“Our child will know Batonn, its people, and its history. You may be part of the Empire, but I refuse to let them strip my family of who they are."

He seemed to contemplate what she said, turning to her with the stone-cold posture that he always bore. 

“Throughout history in every culture on every planet,” he began walking towards the door, “Marriages have been about compromise . This one won’t. It is time you learn to subserve to the empire. ”

The room seemed to enclose and he walked closer to her , standing right infront of her nearly trembling body, something he noticed. 

“I was going to leave but then I thought you would prefer me here, with you.”

She stepped back and looked him up and down in the dark with a scorn upon her lips.

“I am also curious as to your… progress.”

“My progress?”

“Our child. I have done research on hybrid children and your growth is meant to be stalled due to my seed…”

“Yes , Thrawn I know.” She unbuttoned her nightdress and let it drift to the floor. The sheer white of the gown had almost made her seem as a ghost , but now she seemed human. It would be a lie to say that the changes she was experiencing made her feel uncomfortable and trapped . Often she would compare herself to animals, saying that she was made and the empire was the sire . Her handmaidens would reassure her that she had control of her life , but she had her doubts. 

The queen was up longer than what was usually expected, but she got up quickly in the morning so it was alright. It came to her surprise , however, that her husband had been up before her and gone from their shared bed. She wished to share breakfast with him, but she figured that she also needed some alone time away from imperials to calm her headache.

So she sat on her balcony and ate the eggs and drank the milk that had been prepared for her. Only one handmaiden accompanied her , sitting silently across from the queen as she enjoyed her lesser meal. The rest of the girls had been attending to other matters, ones deemed more important than accompanying the Queen to breakfast . 

“Lady Mitth!” an annoying chatter rang. “Lady Mitth!”

The Queen closed her eyes and awaited the Tarkin to disturb the evergoing peace that was the balcony. It was if she were running from something, the way her hag body walked almost seemed muddled.  Simultaneously, as woman yelled, the queen stained her dress with the dark tea.

The Queen arouse anyway and so did her handmaiden who bowed and swiftly picked up her plate and walked from the cobble. “Lady Tarkin, what a pleasant surprise.”

“How rude of you to not invite your guests to breakfast. I was pathetically eating all alone.”

“Well my Lady I apologize but I was under the impression that you had left with your husband and the Grand Admiral.”

“Wilhuff’s business is none of my own.”

(Y/N) smiled as she placed her chalice onto the plate, signaling that she had finished her meal. Amongst the hitting sun and the smell of freshly planted flowers, (Y/N) suddenly felt the urge to leave the outdoor setting once she saw that dreadful woman. 

“Oh how right you are.” She then gestured to the seat next to her, now clean “Would you join me then? I am done but I could pour myself some tea.” 

“Very well.” she sat, making (Y/N) feel a sudden urge to throw herself from the balcony.“Are you excited?”

“For?”

“For the baby of course.”

��As any woman would be given the circumstances.”

“We all hope it looks like you.”

It wasn’t a question , but a statement which forced the queen to slam her tea cup. Her eyes bolted to the woman, who seemed unaware of the confusion she had just caused. No, it wasn’t confusion but rather disgust .

“Excuse me?”

“Well I must admit that it is gossip amongst the wives of officers, something you are too good for.”

The flags flapped in the wind, creating a mystical song which drowned the sneer in 

Thalassa’s voice. It was simply the word ‘gossip’ which angered her, something she knew they enjoyed making her the subject of. It was also prejudiced. She must admit that when she first laid eyes on her arranged husband, she was scared. Not only considering his invasion of her planet, but because of the odd colour of his eyes and the cold colour of his skin.  

“Thalassa,” She started with an artificial smile on her face “My child will be born with skin of blue and eyes of ruby. Human blood will only seep into the veins of my grandchild who will have my skin , my hair and the legacy of his grandfather.”

It then hit Thalassa who despised the reality that Thrawn, one of the empire’s most successful officers was nonhuman and that his legacy would unfortunately live on through the womb of the Batonnese queen. She simply smiled as she had been taught to do and laid her fork to rest. The breakfast was cut short to say the least. It did not sadden (Y/N) who rushed into her room to change her dress. She sat at her vanity with her handmaiden following behind, undressing her from the buttons behind. Uiona took the dress and walked from the room with the dirty dress, leaving the Queen in her solitude. 

It was then when (Y/N)’s bare foot brushed against a flat, elevated surface did her concentration avert from the mirror. 

She raised a brow and picked the object from its home beneath her vanity. Her fingers gently grazed the hardened box, something she did not remember owning but then again, she had been so busy she forgot her brother’s name for a while. She opened the box and there was a chip, a chip most likely containing a recording. It was then she remembered who had gifted her this box and how sudden it had been. 

“Droid!”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The buzzer went off and (Y/N) stod quickly from her seat , knocking the binoculars that had sat upon her lap. Her husband picked them from the floor, the cheers from the people below them distracted him from the crack in the lens. It was horse racing , and Thrawn had decided to accompany his wife last minute. Just as she was leaving, he was returning . Shínrin was meant to accompany her but her husband dismissed her, wanting to observe his wife on her many outings from the palace.  And because of that, she had to cancel her true plan to visit the rebel leader in the country. 

She sat back down now that the horses were out of sight. She did not worry for listening to the announcer was enough to send her on edge. 

“Your Majesty?” A droid came with drinks on a tray, her favorite- quanya. 

“My wife is fine, thank you.” He took a glass, leaving her thirsty. “Something without alcohol will do.”

(Y/N) took a sip of her drink, trying to hide her longing for the days without child. She glanced at her husband, who was engrossed in the ongoing race. Seizing the opportunity, she decided to probe into his unexpected appearance.

Carefully as to not offend , she chose her words carefully , "Thrawn, I didn't expect you to join me today,"

He shifted his attention to her , "I thought it would be interesting to witness your pursuits outside your royal duties, my dear. Besides, I find the strategies employed in these races quite fascinating."

She nodded and then groaned when the horse she decided not to bet on crossed the finish line, “Well they still have six more laps to go.” She then beckoned her hand for the same waiter. “I’m hungry, get me my usual … make it two?” 

“Fromirian roast queg.”

“You know me so well,” she laughed and held up her broken bonchliers. “Crap…”

Evening dawned when the race was over. They walked in the empty viewing lounge, near the mirrors as to allow the oranges and yellows of the setting sun to hit their faces. She held onto the white of his uniform, using her other hand to sway with the skirt of her dress. It was then when his footsteps halted, nearly casting her forward.  She wanted to say something, but she enjoyed the silence too much.

 

"I stress of you," Thrawn began to vocalize, his commanding tone resonating through the air as he turned to face his wife. The sheer sternness of his demeanor made (Y/N) acutely aware of the power he wielded, yet there was an underlying intensity that stirred something deep within her. Despite the stern facade, she couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull towards him, finding comfort in the subtle warmth beneath his unyielding exterior.

“I am fine, you don’t need to stress. I live in a castle filled with people and droids waiting on me hand and foot.”

“Not of that , my wife, but of your reputation and your planet's reputation. Hopefully your introduction as the mother of my child will change that tarnished reputation that you hold.”Thrawn asserted, his words carrying the weight of both authority and a hidden tenderness.

“Thrawn, I must admit that I worry for my people… There are rumors that the empire plans on enslaving my people.” she confessed, searching for reassurance in his unwavering gaze. The silence that followed felt ominous, casting an eerie spell over the conversation.

She was then drawn back to that morning. The morning where she inserted the chip into a droid and saw a recording of an imperial explaining his plans on enslaving Batonn.

Ladies and gentlemen of the Empire, 

Today, I stand before you as a representative of our glorious Empire, entrusted with a crucial responsibility that will shape the destiny of this esteemed planet. Batonn, a jewel in the outer rim, possesses invaluable resources that have the potential to fuel the progress and prosperity of the entire Empire.

As we gaze upon the vast, untapped mines beneath our feet, it is imperative that we recognize the untold wealth hidden within the depths of Batonn. The minerals and ores waiting to be extracted are not just a resource for this planet but a source of strength for the Empire as a whole.

In the spirit of unity and progress, the Galactic Empire proposes a bold initiative: the mobilization of the people of Batonn to contribute to the flourishing industry that lies beneath our very soil. By harnessing the collective strength of its citizens, we will unlock the unparalleled potential of these mines.

Through the unwavering commitment of every citizen, we shall ensure that the riches of Batonn benefit the entirety of the Empire. Our vision is one of shared success and collective achievement. This initiative will not only secure the economic future of Batonn but also fortify our position within the Galactic Empire.

I understand that change can be met with hesitation, but let it be known that this proposal is not an imposition but an opportunity for each of you to contribute to a greater cause. Together, we shall forge a legacy that will be remembered throughout the galaxy.

May the strength of Batonn be harnessed for the greater glory of the Galactic Empire. Join us on this path of progress, and together, we shall shape a future that transcends the boundaries of our wildest dreams.

Long live the Galactic Empire!

"Please tell me it’s not true," she implored, her voice almost a plea as her face turned red.

“For an empire to prosper, some must suffer.” Thrawn declared, his stern expression unwavering.

“No!”  (Y/N) protested, a surge of emotion breaking through.

“It is so.”

“But we are human; the empire does not enslave those-”

“Oh but they do, how ignorant you have been in that stone palace you reside in.” Thrawn revealed, the sternness in his voice cutting through the air.

“I will not allow this. You will not allow this!” And suddenly he saw that spark, the spark in which he had been warned about.

“And what will you do, my gentle queen.” Thrawn challenged.

“I will not go to coursant. I will stay here,” she vowed.

“Do not make this difficult, it is best for us,” Thrawn urged, his stern facade momentarily softening as he leaned in. He pressed a lingering and passionate kiss to her lips, a silent promise.

They then found each other entangled in eachothers arms on Thrawn’s bed situated on his personal ship. She awoke in utter silence, the sterile witness of the room nearly caused her naked body to quiver in the unknowing cold.

“Husband,” she shook him roughly, nearly crying. 

He wore grey, meaning he had changed after the act, something she noticed as he slowly awoke from his position on the bed. 

“Thrawn, where have you taken me?”

 

“We are going to Coruscant , (Y/N), a decision I have made for the both of us.”

“Thrawn… you have betrayed me,” there was hurt in her voice and she nearly wanted to cry. “Where are my handmaidens? Where is the Count? Where is Jankie?”

“The count is here,” Thrawn sighed, “He would not let you go without his presence.”

Thrawn packed his case and had ordered his wife’s handmaiden to do the same in respects to his wife. He stood in her room, ready with a case to walk to his shuttle where she had already found sleeps embrace. The night was dark and he had ordered the serving women to be quiet so as to not awake anyone else who resided in the palace. 

The count stormed in the room, breaking the silence which no longer lingered in the room. He enlighted his lightsaber , the green engulfing the ever growing darkness. 

“Where is my Queen?” He shouted. The handmaidens quaked , squirming to the left corner of the room. It was the first time many of them had seen a jedi, the scene frightened them.

“ Count Clvtorig, what a surprise. I’m sure you’re aware that threatening a senior officer of the navy is illegal…”

“Bring him to me.”

“I’m afraid that cannot be done, my dear. Your dear friend Count Clvtorgi is being confined to the ship’s prison.”

“Why?” she stood from the bed, holding the sheets to cover her bareness.

“He is a jedi,” he then raised his eyebrow “surely you had known.”

“No. None of this is true.”

“(Y/N), you must understand that the Empire values the symbolism of our presence on Coruscant.” 

“Symbolism? It is better that I stay on Batonn.”

“My love, I brought you to Coruscant for the well-being of our child. The medical facilities here are unparalleled, ensuring a safe and secure environment for the hybrid birth. The matters on Batonn will be addressed in due course. But being there allows us to influence decisions that impact our entire sector.” 

It was then when a comm rang, disturbing the argument that was bound to occur. He strolled to his desk and pressed down the answer button .

“Agent Kallus to Grand Admiral Thrawn,” The man’s hologram appeared.

“Speaking.”

“The inquisitor has just landed. Should we guide him to the Count’s cell?”

The Queen’s jaw twitched. She held her mouth to prevent the violent tremor from becoming noticeable though that was too late. 

“I will be there, agent, tell the inquisitor to stand by,” He then turned to his wife who simply yearned to cry into her pillow. “This discussion will have to wait.” In a haste, he dressed and left the room, dressing perfectly in the minimal amount of time he was given. 

It was sometime before she was able to collect herself, but the time came and she dressed in a gown of blue and made her way down the hall looking for the man who was about to kill one of her only friends. He had already taken her family, he was not going to take away Clvtorgi.

Or her baby.

This she would not allow.

“You,” she pointed at the stormtrooper who roamed aimlessly “where is my husband?”

With no answer, (Y/N) stormed past him and made her way to the deck where only a few officers captioned the ship. They did not turn when she approached , seemingly ignoring her frightened presence . “Gentlemen,” she called, unknowingly triggering the senses of a certain guard who had accidentally let her sleep. 

“My lady,” One of them stood while the other one continued manning the ship. “I thought you were confined to the Grand Admiral's quarters.”

“Confined?” she simply gasped and clenched her heart “I am your commanding officer’s wife, not a prisoner.” 

A noghri stood silently behind her, his weapon drawn and ready to stun. 

“Well,” the imp smiled , showing his teeth “It seems as if you must take up your complaints with someone else.” 

Slowly, she turned her head , seeing the electrifying weapon which had surely been charged before she boarded.  

It was then when she was stunned and fell to the floor did the Jedi trained Clvtorgi scream and struggle from his confinement. The Inquisitor paused his mind tricks and turned to Agent Kallus who stood to his left. 

“All he can think about is that girl,” the inquisitor sneered and ignited his saber.

“Girl?”

“The Grand Admiral's wife. He seems to have a very deep connection to her, and the child she carries.”

“So what should we do in the meantime.”

“Oh I’m not finished yet.”

In her dreams she heard his haunting screams and desire to remain as stoic as a jedi. It wouldn’t be long before they killed him , making him a jedi only spoken about in books and fairytales. In her dreams, she wandered through the desolate corridors of her home on Batonn, its grandeur reduced to shadows and echoes of its former glory. The once vibrant colors were now muted, and the air hung heavy with a sense of foreboding. The walls seemed to close in on her, and every step echoed with a haunting emptiness. It was then she reached the end of the hall , where Clvtorgi stod in his regal disguise. 

The quietness of the door opening disturbed her dream, and the count’s face slowly disappeared, replaced by a face of blue.

“I heard you had a confrontation with my guard,” Thrawn stated, entering the room.

“It was nothing,” she whispered.

He said nothing and entered further into the room, asserting himself in her sleeping space. 

“We will reach Coruscant tomorrow,” he began shedding his uniform as a snake would its skin. “Lady Tarkin is throwing you a blessingway. I won’t be able to attend but I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

Voices became white noise and the ship's hum became roaring. He did not stop talking though, even when he noticed that she was disengaged, causing her to gasp from his shockingly boring voice. 

“Hmm are you alright?” He turned to her before sitting at his desk.

“Yes, It just kicked…”

“He”

“What?”

“Male. The child is male.”

“How do you know?”

“Count Clvtorgi,” She sat up in bed, using the sheet to cover her breasts “He knew through the force, something he is strong in. Another reason as to why you should stay on Coruscant.”

“No, the empire agreed to keep the monarchy.”

“Your duties changed once you began carrying our heir.”

And that was the end of it.  She felt the weight of her responsibilities shift, becoming mature and womanly. No longer was she Queen of Batonn, but a wife to her husband-Thrawn. 

The changes were palpable – at social gatherings, during shopping excursions, and even in the formalities of Imperial addresses . It was even evident at parties, when she went shopping and when she received mail or was addressed by the imperials.

“Welcome Lady Mitth, would you like to add this to your account?”

“Lady Mitth has arrived.”

And Lady Mitth did arrive one afternoon to the endless city of Coruscant. The twi'lek porter held her few bags which would maybe suffice for a month or two. Thrawn promised her that he would send for her other belongings and perhaps a handmaiden or two but for the time being:

“Go shopping and take the droid with you,” he said to her when he caught her exploring his obnoxiously large coruscanti  apartment. “Charge everything to my account. No one should question you, everyone knows who I am and you are.”

In a way it was both a warning and a blessing.

“I will join you for dinner. I have business to attend to in the meantime, but send for me when you’re ready.” 

And he said it as cold as always, ignoring her presence as he left the room. But she gave him scant credit, for he had sensed her lingering blues and concluded that the combination of the unexpected move and the pregnancy had put a strain on his wife. He sometimes caught her staring aimlessly out the window, cradling her growing bump and counting the speeders in the skyline. It was time for some excitement in her life.

So that was when she decided to overcharge his account, buying everything and anything in sight. There was one thing about Batonnese women, and that was their expensive taste and style, something Thrawn had observed through art commissioned by his young bride. He did expect her to spend all his credits and pick the most expensive dress and buy it in every colour offered just to spite him , so that was what she did. 

Those dresses of every colour were thrown neatly in the trunk of the speeder , left to a droid to attend to. She didn’t mind if  they got wrinkled , for she was probably never going to wear them. Maternity wear was just dreadful and plain.

“Where are my reservations at?” She questioned the driver as they traveled through the endless sea of lights “I would like to know where I'm going.”

“The Pinnacle, My lady.”

“The Pinnacle ?” she raised her brow. In reality, she would expect no less from her husband and his choosing but she secretly wished for something more private and calm. The Pinnacle attracted many of the empire’s most elite members which meant that Lady Mitth would most likely see someone she despised.

The vehicle stopped and already she noticed enemies she had made on her first visit to her husband's adopted home. In some strange sick way , she felt a sense of jealousy towards those women. Their slender, youthful forms with the power to captivate any man they wished for seemed like an elusive fantasy, something she could only envision in her dreams.

Graciously and with the dignity belonging to a queen , (Y/N) exited the vehicle and held her head higher than the 500 Republica. She hoped the night would masquerade her face, hiding her slight plumpness from the youthful women her age.

“Lady Mitth !” one of the girls shouted from the sea of elites “Look Vegga, it’s (Y/N). Remember her, the Batonnese girl.”

“Oh brother,” she signed under her breath.

Already, (Y/N) noticed the judgmental smile that plagued the girls whom she vaguely remembered as Gendora and Vegga , daughters of Commander Drexton. 

"Well, where's the Grand Admiral? Not joining us today?" 

“He’s on his way,” she tried moving past them , but was stopped as they moved closer. 

"Well I just wanted to extend my congratulations. Word is you're expecting."

 "Thank you. Yes, we're thrilled."

 "Thrilled, I'm sure. It must be such an... interesting time for you." She looked down at her overly flowing dress, seeing the outlined bump.

"It is. Your kind wishes are appreciated."

She pushed past them, trying to hide her tears. She couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the surface, the congratulations were marred by a prejudiced undertone, driven by the fact that her baby was a mix of Chiss and human. 

Human, something she felt too much.

She approached the host , but she need not to introduce herself. 

“Lady Mitth, we’ve been expecting you! We have the rooftop table . Where’s your husband?”

Everywhere she stepped, everywhere she was noticed, she was asked about Thrawn. He was a part of her, an invisible parasite glued to the center of her face. It was as if she wore a badge that read “Thrawn’s Wife. Obedient : silent, and imperial.”

“Just send him to my table when he arrives,” a small giggle flew from her mouth as she followed the host to her designated table, picked by her husband. 

The scenery almost overwhelmed her but sulking for long never looked good on women in society. Especially one who wore the badge of a grand admiral's wife. If only she were still the unmarried virgin she once was only a few years ago, with not a worry in the world. She would still retain her thin figure, her unbraided hair , and her finger which was free of a heavy ring. 

Still, she thought of Count Clvtorig and his alleged jedi title and the many times she had been so stupid as to not notice. It was him who had saved her when she had visited the witch, and it was him who had been there when the imperials threatened and raided the farms in the north. She was so deep in thought that she failed to notice her husband who had just walked into the restaurant. All eyes seemed to be on him, but hers. 

“Lady Mitth,” he stood with his hands resting on the hem of the chair , looking down at his wife. 

“Thrawn!” she nearly dropped her glass on the table as she stood abruptly, allowing her husband to kiss her. He took the seat opposite of her, tucking her into the table before he did.  

“I trust you found the dressmakers on Coruscant to be satisfactory.”

“Well the women here do know how to dress.”

Thrawn inclined his head, acknowledging her words. "Efficiency is key in all aspects of life, including choosing the clothing we wear." Scanning the menu he then placed it neatly on the table.

A waiter approached to take their orders, and Thrawn opted for a selection of dishes that reflected his refined taste. As the waiter turned his attention to (Y/N), she hesitated for a moment before placing her order.

"Is there anything specific you desire?" Thrawn inquired, his eyes fixated on her.

"I'll trust your choices," she responded, attempting to convey a sense of ease despite the nervousness she felt.

He of course asked her how her day went, if she had felt ill or in any sort of way. She then asked how he had been and he responded with information pertaining to the imperial navy , diplomatic matters, and the delicate balance of power within the Empire. She  listened attentively, as a good wife should, providing occasional nods and thoughtful responses.

Thrawn then shifted the conversation to a more personal realm. "Your adjustment to Coruscant has been swift," he observed.

"It's a different world," she admitted, offering a small smile. "But I'm doing my best."

"The Empire values adaptability," Thrawn stated. "It is a quality that will serve you well."

The topic shifted to Lady Tarkin's upcoming blessingway, and Thrawn emphasized the importance of maintaining a positive image within the Imperial circles.

"You are a representation of not only yourself but also the stability of our union," Thrawn explained, his gaze piercing. "Appearances matter."

(Y/N) nodded, understanding the unspoken expectations that accompanied her role. The conversation drifted towards the impending arrival of their child, and Thrawn's demeanor softened, revealing a rare glimpse of paternal anticipation.

"Your connection with Clvtorgi troubles me," Thrawn admitted, his voice measured. "The Inquisitor sensed it, and I cannot ignore the implications."

"He's an old friend," (Y/N) explained, her tone sincere. "He saved me in times of need, and I cannot turn my back on him." 

She then began to stress , her brows furring and her teeth clenched .

“Please tell me what his fate will be.”

Thrawn regarded her with a thoughtful expression, his eyes probing. "I do not wish to stifle your connections, but caution is imperative. The Empire's perception of loyalty is unforgiving."

"Your adaptability will continue to be tested," Thrawn remarked while standing and extending his arm, offering her to dance."But I have faith in your ability to navigate these intricacies."

He guided her to the dance floor as the soothing notes of a waltz filled the air, evoking the painful memory of her coronation. Facing him, she felt his hand on her waist, poised to lead.When she was young and the palace still flourished with the (L/N) family , (Y/N) would always lead when dancing with her brothers or suitors. However, the first dance with Thrawn marked a shift, as he insisted on leading and discouraged any attempts to adjust her hands to take charge.When she was young and the palace still flourished with the (L/N) family , (Y/N) would always lead when dancing with her brothers or suitors.

The realization made her stop him by standing still and not moving her body in a way which complimented the music. 

“(Y/N),” he stopped along with her and moved his hand to her cheek “Is everything alright?”

She wanted to tell him that she grew weary from her fake smiles and her perfect posture and just wanted to go back to the apartment. It was evident in her eyes, she knew that he could sense it as well as others.

“I’m very tired , I…I- I’d rather just go home.”

He led her off the dancefloor , bringing her down the stairs and escorting her into his personal hovercraft. They sat in silence, his hand rested on her leg while she stared at the busy roads. It was night and she could not get over the lights flashing into her face from others whom she felt watched her.

He opened the door letting her into the dark and silent apartment.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me but of course, call the droid first,” he left her in the dark and went straight to his office, it seemed the working day hadn’t ended. 

But even as tired as she was, she couldn’t sleep knowing her husband was awake and ignoring her in the other room. A tranquil breeze gave her a chill, solidifying her feeling of loneliness. She moved the comforter , slipping from the sheets and moving across the hallway to go knock on his door. 

“Lady…” the silver droid had caught her lurking in the hall, but was ordered to be quiet by (Y/N) placing a finger on her lips. After a knock, (Y/N) entered Thrawn's office, finding him buried in a stack of datapads and holographic displays. The air carried a tense atmosphere, and she could sense the weight of his responsibilities pressing upon him. He almost did not even notice her, but then he looked up and saw his wife standing before him.

"Thrawn," she spoke gently, approaching his desk. "You seem stressed. Is there anything I can do?"

"There are pressing matters that I must attend to," he admitted with a sigh.

(Y/N) then leaned against the edge of his desk, twisting her hair and looking down at her husband. "You've been working tirelessly. “You deserve a break."

 "The demands of the Empire are unrelenting."

She reached out, placing a hand on his, offering a comforting touch. "You don't have to carry it all on your own, Thrawn. Have one of your assistants help."

Thrawn's gaze softened at her words, a rare vulnerability surfacing. "The burden of command is mine to bear."

 "And I'm here to share it with you, as your wife."

A growing tension entered the room , not the same tension that had appeared over dinner, but a romantic and wanting tension. A tension only felt by lovers and those of the sort.  Thrawn leaned forward, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, solidifying their joint needs for desire and companionship . 

He pulled her closer to his body, kissing her once more in a fit of passion and desire. He held the back of her head, moving his hand slowly to the buttons of her nightdress. She did the same, removing his shirt and throwing it to some unknown corner of the room. With haste, he picked her up and laid her gently on a sofa with the last chaste kiss of the evening.

Already, he had taken off her gown and undergarments and she- his clothing . He laid on top of her and looked into her eyes . She was wanting , yearning , needing. He cheeks grew red with desire and her nipples erected at the sound of his groan . He moved his hand down his body, touching himself . 

She instead replaced his hand with hers and began to delicately move her hand in such a way which would elicit some sort of pleasure. She knew how hard he had been working and admitted that she had felt neglected for awhile. But lonely she felt no more. 

Never was the stare of Thrawn so intense. She saw the want in his eyes and laid down on her back , letting go of his shaft and wiping her fingers on her pink rose. She arched her back and moaned when she rubbed herself , pulling him down with her. It became hot in the room, causing the couple to pant and become red with pleasure.

He found her incredibly desirable even with her slightly bulging womb which she found distasteful. He used his hands to trail up her body , reaching her soft and perky breasts . His fingers decided to cup and massage her hardening nipples, causing her to gasp. 

“I’ve missed you,” He moved his lips to her ears, whispering sweet nothings and biting onto the soft and delicate skin “Oh you’re simply a work of art.”

She could barely respond .

It was sensual and wanting, an emotion she was guilty of longing for when he was gone. As he touched her, remembering her pleasure spots from previous nights before, she gripped the back of his neck, making it so he was paralyzed in his movements. Oh but that was what she wanted, so that he would never stop.

A red gush of pleasure dropped over her body when he inserted himself into her soft, delicate hole. “Thrawn…” she panted as her body bounced back and forth, matching his rhythm. He did not hurt her this time, she grew accustomed to his size and the way he manhandled her, making her sensitive to his touch. He remained close to her, his head buried in the crook of her neck. Covertly, she turned her head to her right so that she was facing a shelf . A shelf she had been yelled at once for snooping around in. She saw a new folder, one that was scarlet, matching the colour of Batonn’s flag. 

‘That one,’ she heard the voice of her imprisoned friend, a voice she remembered so clearly ‘You must save our home. For me , it is too late.’

He whispered something to her in his native tongue before releasing himself into her, bringing her back to her senses, causing her to face him. She stopped her moaning and closed her mouth, allowing him to collapse on top of her. Swiftly , he got up and began to dress himself, paying no mind to her fixation on the shelf until it discomfited him.

“I must get to work now,” he helped her up, handing her the discarded dress in the process. 

It was an anticlimactic end, but in the morning she would wait for him to leave before abstracting the folder which sat on the shelf.

It seemed that Batonn had always been awarded the dull end of the empire’s sword.

[enola6]

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Captain Iruka of the U.S.S Natchez

On The Bridge

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New PFP :)

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Chonaic mé an bláth seo agus shíl mé go raibh cuma croí air <3

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A Queen's Walk

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An Interesting Mind

(Vector Hyllus/Reader)

Alderaan was not full of blitheness, nor was it serene.

It was elegant.

It was lush.

At the same time, however, it seemed hollow and lifeless to her. Under the guise of riches and luxury, Lady Thul was miserable. And though she was miserable and bored, she became entertained by an offworlder. Having captivated the attention of a Coruscanti journalist assigned to the task of covering politics off-world. And though she had once believed Coruscant to be the epitome of corruption and grief, she was certainly proven wrong by the Alderaanians—at least by the Thuls.

They were a people paranoid of their enemies. Even Urtel Moren, Lady Thul’s usually stoic bodyguard, illuminated an aura of fear when Jedi and politics were mentioned. The journalist followed him outside, notepad in hand.

"Miss (y/n)," he turned around while being followed in the palace gardens. "May I assist you in anything?"

The Coruscanti took note of the naturalness of Alderaan. Hills that never seemed to stop growing, rills that held water that would never stop flowing. A sky so clear you could see the stars at night and the shapes of clouds during the day...

It was everything Coruscant was not, and yet she yearned for her home.

"I have finished my report on House Thul." She stated, standing straight as if the Sith intimidated her. He waited for her to continue, confused as to why she was speaking to him. Being from offworld, she was only permitted to speak to her host family, not to anyone else, in fear of slander regarding the imperials on Alderaan.

"So you will be leaving us soon?" He inquired.

"No," Her answer startled him, yet he was not surprised. "I wish to explore this planet’s wildlife. Remember that man who visited the house when I first arrived? His eyes the colour of cinders, and he spoke using the word ‘WE’ instead of ‘I’".

"Yes, I remember the Joiner."

She found his tone welcoming and stepped closer to him, showing him the notes she had taken in her notebook. Scribbles as well as random words observed by the journalist graced her singular page dedicated to the man. She was quite embarrassed, to say the least, but the man and his talk of killiks intrigued her.

"I wish to research his condition... I want to venture onto Killik grounds."

“Lady Thul will not permit such an endeavor from someone she is hosting. Your safety will be at risk, Miss (y/n).”

“I know, my Lord. That is the beauty of it.” Thrantas flew above them, creating a gust of wind to close the pages of her book. She placed her book on the latch of her belt where it had always hung, sometimes hitting her legs. “On Coruscant I was given menial work, nothing of importance and seldomly allowed to investigate topics off-world. Now that I have the chance to investigate this… anomaly…”

He sensed her curiosity and recognized it as something dangerous. Journalists have the power to spread news of the war, they also hold the power to change it.

“If you do not offer me directions to their hives, then I will tell the lady of the house about your reports.”

She knew it was wrong, and her heart sank while she spoke to the sith. The enormous derelict camps on Taris reminded her of the jedi. She remembered a child, cradled in his mother’s arms, slowly transform into a rakghoul. She remembered returning to the camp, and her droid detected no human. There was the Barsen'thor, in the capital and when she begged she did not investigate.

Taris was no longer the planet of great civilization , and she blamed the jedi and sith and their stupid war.She however, also knew about his mission. That child was born with knowledge of sith legends , something the bodyguard was ordered to retrieve by the emperor .

“Do not fool me.”

His body softened and the clench he held in his fists was loosened. The redness of his robes created a soft breeze upon her skin as he turned around and began walking down the concrete , white path. From his steps, she thought she saw his footsteps illuminate red, but then again she shook her head and it was gone.

“Tomorrow morning before the sun rises , you will meet me here.” He turned his head around and spoke to her through telepathy, a skill she hated from the sith. “You will bring the coordinates but if you are lying then I will find you and strike you down. Don’t think Republic-ridden Coruscant will save you.”

Bright stars in the sky kept the curious journalist awake as she leaned on the pillows on her temporary bed. A bed she would know no longer.

It was bright and early, too early for (y/n) to comprehend her thoughts in the cold breeze of the mountains. Stupidly , She had not dressed for the cold, believing the weather to be warm and soothing, the perfect temperature for an adventure . A cold nip bit her cheeks , making her cheeks rosy and puffy. Ice stuck to her boots and she almost sprained her ankle on a rock which stood in her way. Urtel Moren took large strides , it was hard for (y/n) to keep up.

“My Lord” She called out while trying to keep his pace “my Lord!”

“Slow down, my Lord!”

He stopped in his tracks and didn’t bother turning , for he sensed her struggle behind him and let her fall on her face.

“There is no need.” He spoke calmly .

“This is … “

“Yes, miss (y/n), this is Killik territory . Feared by many , except the simple.”

She noticed his eyes darken.

Darken as they would around jedi.

Darken as they would around enemies of House Thul.

It was all too soon, he reached for his lightsaber and all she saw was the gleam of red haunt her vision with its overpowering force. Thoughtlessly, she instinctively stepped back, retreating from the looming danger of the sith. In her haste, she stumbled and fell into a hole, a refuge of desperation. Her heart raced as she landed, and her back collided with a jagged rock. Pain surged through her body, and the impact was enough to force her into unconsciousness. Once again , she hit a rock , forcing her to become unconscious as she heard the eerie sound of the kiliks. The world around her grew distant as darkness enveloped her, leaving her fate uncertain in the face of the menacing threat.

Her senses slowly abandoned her,as she was no longer aware of the looming threat of the red lightsaber or the haunting figure who wielded it. Instead, her unconscious form lay still in the darkness of the hole…

The killiks' delicate antennae brushed against her motionless body, as they communicated silently with one another in their distinct language . In their intricate and collective way, they assessed the intruder, unaware of her purpose . The unconscious woman remained at the mercy of these enigmatic creatures, her fate uncertain as they probed and examined her in the cold, unforgiving darkness.

They gently lifted her from the cold, rocky ground, their coordinated efforts carrying her with surprising care and precision. In their collective intelligence, they recognized her as something of interest, a puzzle they wished to solve.

Their joiner would know more about the strange woman.

Slowly and silently, they made their way through the intricate tunnels, guided by an unseen force—their hive mind working together to transport their newfound discovery. As they navigated the labyrinthine passages, (y/n) ‘s unconscious form was brought closer to their destination.

Finally, they arrived at the nest where Vector Hyllus, the joiner, awaited. He was standing, surrounded by a soft, bioluminescent glow emanating from the Kilik nests. The Kiliks approached, their intricate chittering signaling their discovery to the human. He understood them and studied the unknown woman with interest.

A Killik stepped forward and handed Vector her belt. The belt seemed small in the insectoid creature's grasp, but the creature recognized it as useful and important.

With a mixture of curiosity and gratitude, he unzipped the pouch attached to the belt carefully and found the journal inside. The journal was filled with meticulous research notes and observations about Joiners and the enigmatic Kilik species. Vector's own history as a Joiner, someone bonded with the Kiliks, made this discovery even more intriguing.

“(y/n) (l/n)...” he whispered as he traced his finger over the title page of the journal.

He looked upon her once more and came to the realization that she was a woman he recognized from house Thul. He remembered her pheromones of curiosity and the way her eyes never left him.

As he flipped through the pages, his eyes widened with understanding and interest. (y/n) had dedicated significant time and effort to studying the connection between Joiners and Kiliks. Her research could hold valuable insights into the intricate relationship between the two and potentially reveal new aspects of their unique bond.

“Take her to a private area. She means no harm, just curiosity.”

In the darkness of his own private room, Vector’s black eyes examined the journal with such delicate ease, afraid to damage any pages from the thoughtfully crafted journal. As he examined the woman's journal and the intricate research she had compiled, his senses picked up on an unusual scent, a subtle and intoxicating fragrance that was carried in the air.

These were not ordinary scents, but rather pheromones, biological signals that held a profound and instinctual significance to the Kilik species. Pheromones were a powerful form of communication and connection for the insectoid creatures, and they conveyed a range of emotions and intentions.

Vector's unique bond with the Kiliks heightened his awareness of these chemical signals. As he inhaled the subtle, alluring scent emanating from the unconscious woman, a surge of instinctual emotions and thoughts flowed through him. He was aware that this was not just an ordinary human response, but a deep and primal connection to the Kilik hive mind, intensified by the woman's presence.

In that moment, a complex and unconventional bond began to form in Vector's mind, a connection that went beyond mere curiosity. He recognized the woman's pheromones as an invitation, an offer of unity with the Kiliks in a way that was both intriguing and unsettling. However, Vector was still a diplomatic and open-minded individual. A part of him was still human.

With these thoughts in mind, Vector Hyllus closed the journal, his mind filled with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty. The discovery of the woman's research and the presence of her pheromones had opened a new and uncharted chapter in the complex relationship between Joiners, Kiliks, and (y/n).

When she awoke some time later, her hair amess and out of the many braids she had twisted them in. She reached for her belt, she had packed a silver blade before she had ventured , not trusting the sith in his full capacity. However, when she reached down she felt nothing but empty belt loops that held no leather, and no notebook.

(y/n’s) senses slowly returned, and she found herself in the presence of Vector Hyllus and the Killiks. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she attempted to make sense of the situation. It was what she wanted , and for the first time she wished to be back at her office on Coruscant.

That was when the Joiner entered the room, causing (y/n) to turn around.

She said nothing as she made eye contact with the joiner. Her gaze shifted, and she suddenly noticed something unusual. His striking, pitch-black eyes met hers, and the sight sent a shock of surprise through her.

“You’re…” she began to stutter.

“We are Vector Hyllus ,” the joiner began to speak “Dawn Herald of the Oroboro nest. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss (y/n).”

“How do you know my name?” (y/n) moved hair from her eyes, looking fully at the man before her.

“We examined your journal. Just a precaution to see if you could be trusted.” His voice was deep and soothing , but one could hear the eusocialness radiate from his voice. (Y/N) didn’t have time to think of accents or tone. Instead, she jolted back when killiks entered the room with their menacing height and fangs.

“What frightens you?” he integrated.

“I cannot speak,” the woman began to compose, “For I am fearful of the creatures that stand in the shadows behind you.”

And though she was tired , (y/n) managed to stand and point at what was behind Vector with her ring catching his eye. It shined in the minimal light that was present in the cave. The only light seemed to be the gleaming light that radiated from the unfriendly aura of the killiks.

“These are the killiks, but you seem to be already knowledgeable about their unique anatomy and character. We have lived with them, worked with them and became them. So , Miss (y/n), what do you wish from us?”

Knowledge , research , the permission to record the hive. She would have answered that only hours ago .

“ forgive me, sir,” she began to speak “But I admit I am frightened by the eyes of black that you proudly bear. You have read my journal and know what I know…” she took a recorder from her jacket and pressed the bright red button on the top of the lip , “so tell me what the world does not for your kind is so interesting that I yearn to enlighten the world about your condition.”

They sat down and he began to speak.

For days she slept on the bed kindly offered by Mister Vector Hyllus and wrote her report, refusing to return to Coruscant without it.

But another thing made her stay. Sometimes, she would peek behind the tall walls of the cave and stare at him with complete fascination.

He would look back.

And she would blush.

Vector observed the blushing, skittish woman with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Her dedication to understanding the Kiliks and her unyielding determination to learn more about their bond fascinates him. He admired her. Her courage , her intellect and her beauty.

He one day caught her packing her bag. She had discussed with him the night before on her departure , how she would leave him and never see him again. That is what he feared.

“(y/n)” He called to her.

“Vector!” She loosened her shoulders and moved some hair from her face. “I haven't seen you all day. Where have you been?” she stepped closer to him, her pheromones becoming more and more present , almost intoxicating him with her unknowing spell. In the midst of the cave, a flower had bloomed from its hidden petals and became the only jewel in the room.

“(y/n) there is something we must discuss with you. We do not want you to leave.”

“Vector … I do not understand”.

“We have felt something since you’ve arrived . A sweet sensation that does not leave. It is strange we have never felt such…”

“Mister Hyllus,” She noticed his red cheeks in the darkness of the cave. “I believe you are trying to say that you like me… romantically .” she then thought of ways to convey her message to his hive mind , “in the way mates do.”

He looked down almost shamefully . No, that was the wrong word, for the feeling he felt held no shame.

“We believe so , (y/n)”

“Well , Vector,” she let her bag drop and walked closer to him. She twiddled her fingers and tried looking anywhere but him. The flustered state that they both shared seemed to be oh so contagious. “I don’t want to leave either.”

And that was her way of letting him know that she had also grown feelings for him.

“Leave the hive, just for a moment.” She whispered into his ear. The black of his eyes disappeared and a human was in front of her. A man.

“Let us enjoy ourselves…”

(y/n) did not leave for Coruscant that night.

[enola6]

Tree of Yearning

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+Chapter 2 | The Generalﾟ+..｡*ﾟ

Maybe shock wasn’t the correct word to describe what overcame Alagona when she stepped inside the roundhouse, but traumatism was rather appropriate. Chains dangled on the stone walls; animal skins graced the once dull floors; swords and shields hung above the mantle, showcasing rusted blood on the iron… Perhaps the wooden throne that sat facing the mantle was the most threatening.

It was clear that an man sat on the throne, though his back was towards the visitors that were here to deliver him a gift.

“You bother me, Ussode ?” a voice from behind the large wooden throne spoke. His voice is deep, yet demanding.

“General, I bring you a maiden from Lilieguard.” the slaver called Ussode said.

Alagona’s eyes wandered around the room curiously. There were no walls, but one big room, just as the homes in Lilieguard were. Her eyes further traveled up some steps to where she saw yet the other human woman placing white sheets on a large bed. A lyre lazily dangled from her belt as she traced her hands among the sheets of snow and fur.

“You bring me another burden. Another incompetent human to feed”, The General snorted. He snapped his fingers and Soaz rushed over and fetched his silver plate and placed it in a bucket, which was on the other side of the room. “I tire of your games, Ussode. You bore me… so does that Endrel,” he mumbled.

“I have been ordered by the chieftain to deliver you a breeder,”

Alagona winced and clenched her skirt from her bound hands that were still held together by the harsh rope. She avoided eye contact, though she felt all the womens gazes on her body.

“Another whore, interesting ”, he stood from his throne and turned towards the slavers and the slave that they were ordered to deliver.

His gaze intimated her, the way his eyes traveled down to her waist as he looked her up and down. She shuffled in her stance, avoiding any eye contact with the man General. She kept her eyes down and looked to her sides at the slavers, visibly uncomfortable.

“Hmm, Lilieguard you said ?” He commented as he stared at her.

“Kneel”, The slaver huffed to Alagona as he shoved her down onto the floor. “See, she’s just as submissive as the other slave you had,” the slaver said, turning his attention to the General.

The General watched as the girl was manhandled by the slavers and forced to kneel, he nearly rolled his eyes.

She pushed herself up, not afraid of defying them for one last time.

He leaned into her face, which had become red and wet from all her crying and self-pity she held in her mind. His fingers took a strand of her hair ,which had become free from its string and tugged . It ripped from her head of hair as she flinched and yelped in pain.

“This one looks especially docile and healthy. I look forward to impregnating her,” the General teased as he changed his gaze from Alagona to Ussode but kept his slight smirk at Alagona.

“It’s a service to your race to help contribute to repopulation,”

The General paused for a moment before pursing his lips to open them again. “Soaz, take her to the slave quarters”, He spoke, turning his attention to the three women that stood still. He continued to play with her locks as he spoke to the thrall.

“Yes ,master”, she quietly spoke as she rushed to usher Alagona from the floor and out of the roundhouse. Grabbing her rather roughly, she forced her head up by grabbing her hair and pushing her out the door. “You walk too slow, you must be quick as a slave”, she whispered in her ear.

“I can’t wait to use her,” The General stated as he walked over to the hearth and leaned on the shelf that laid above. “Seeing a human woman swell with a dark elven child is a sign of power we should always make them remember. It won’t be long until their race is truly extinct and ours will prevail”, He then tossed her hair strands into the fire and watched as they disintegrated into ashes.

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

“Why do you linger? When the master instructs you to do something then you must move quickly and swiftly,” Soaz scolded as she tugged on the new slave’s corset strings. The other slave held a wooden bucket of water and was in the process of mixing soap together to create a perfect scent.

“I don’t wanna be here,” Alagona cried. She slapped Soaz’s hands from her waist and tried moving out of her grasp, frightened and afraid. “Leave me alone!”

“You will listen to me, whore,” Soaz commanded with her voice that had become harsh with age. She then grabbed onto the young girl’s arm and roughly tugged her to the center of the room. “Come here,” she yelled.

“No,” Alagona protested as she pulled herself away with all her might.

Soaz didn’t say anything , but grabbed a whip that was hanging on the wooden wall that seemed rustic and old.

“No!” The other woman yelled and grabbed Soaz’s arm that was clenching the whip. “We mustn’t taint her skin before the breeding. The General made it clear that we are not to inflict harm onto her so that he must find the utmost amount of pleasure as he takes her for the first time,”

“Don’t meddle in my affair, Pious,” Soaz scolded the other woman.

It was then Alagona turned her gaze to the woman called Pious. She was young, perhaps only a few years older than Alagona herself. Her eyes pivoted from her face and onto her swollen stomach which made it evident that she was pregnant and therefore, held the same job as Alagona.

But while Alagona was too distracted with starring the woman in front of her, Soaz took this as a perfect time to rip Alagona’s corset off from her body and discard it to the floor. Alagona only gasped as she used her hands to keep together the rest of her dress from falling like broken glass shards.

“Why do you do this to me ? We are humans, we should be allies in this reality of dread”, She pleaded as Pious dumped water onto her naked body. Her throat clogged up with soap and water as she attempted to speak again.

“Oh please, quit your begging and pitiful jabs,” Soaz said to Alagona before turning her attention to Pious. “I will check on the General, clean her up and paint the cosmetics on her face,”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pious mumbled as she took the girl in her arms and began to crease her skin softly. “Don’t make this harder on me, for I am with child and have no desire to tussle with you,” She said to the woman in her arms.

Alagona calmed down. Her breathing slowed down and she regained strength in her legs as she stood up and let the other slave wash her body with a leather cloth that was coarse on her delicate skin. She watched as Pious’s hand moved up and down her skin as dirt and grass disappeared from her skin and fell to the floor. Her eyes became wide with wonder as she let the woman adorn her with jewels and braids of long and fair, never in her life had she looked so beautiful.

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

“When will you receive the thrall tonight ?” The elderly slave asked her master as she stood behind him, stiff as a statue.

“Tonight. Hopefully this one is more competent than that other one I was gifted,” The General sighed as he sharpened his old sword he once used in battle. “Does she know her biological pose?”

“No sir,” Soaz said as she held her signature stern face. “but I shall instruct her to present herself to you as soon as she walks in,”

“You have always been loyal to me Soaz. It’s a shame I couldn’t fuck a child into you when I had a chance. Now you are old and barren and must serve me until the end of your days,”

Soaz clenched her jaw and stared down at her feet as she let the elf degrade her.

“Master,” she finally spoke. “It would’ve been a privilege to carry your children, and contribute to the growings of this glorious race,”

“Then why don’t you go get that Lilieguardan so that I may put my child into her untouched womb,” he commanded.

“Yes master,” Soaz said as she walked out of the roundhouse and into the slave quarters where Pious was putting paint on Alagona’s lips.

She didn’t quite like the warm silence that the two women held. She was at the top of the slave hierarchy in her master’s house, and she didn’t want the slaves to get too comfortable with each other.

“The General will see her now,”

[enola6]

[enola6]

Tree of Yearning

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+Chapter 1 | The Captureﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

She had been warned about them many times before.

All the children in the clan were subjected to stories about how the dark elves would kidnap, torture, and enslave women to do their bidding and bear them children. Female dark elves were such a rarity and the ones that did exist saw child baring as below them, so their men sought out a way to procreate, with human women.

“Don’t venture too far into the woods,” Alagona’s mother would warn. “You don’t wanna end up being a slave, do you?”

With all those stories of terror and fright, Alagona had never paid much attention and was often careless while venturing out in the woods. Her eldest brother had often followed her when she went exploring, but sometimes he wouldn’t even let her leave the long-house.

“Do you know who I am, girl?” the chieftain probed as he held his sword under the kneeling girl’s chin. Her hands were bound behind her back with a harsh rope as she tried tugging on it.

She silently nodded, letting a crystal tear run down her cheek and onto the sharp blade. She watched it twinkle down the coldness of the metal and onto the earth below, anything to take her eyes off his deep eyes.

“Do you know why we’ve taken you?”

“I hope you rot in hell,” she spat, truly disgusted at his presence.

He chuckled and wiped her salvia off his face with his thumb, the two elves behind her tightened their grip on her shoulders.

“They’re always feisty when we first catch them, aren't they?” he said to the people behind himself. It was then she noticed the human women behind him. They all adorned lavish furs of wolf and mink and slippers of gold and silver as they laid leisurely on velvet pillows.

Some of them had swollen wombs, while the other ones held bundles in their arms. They didn’t look sad nor happy, but neutral.

The elves behind the girl laughed as their grips loosened and they earned more of a playful demeanor. They were the ones who had kidnapped her. One of them came from behind while the other one circled and enclosed the girl, making her trip and fall into a depression. She didn’t move, for fear that the elf would let go of his bowstrings and fire at her.

“Don’t worry, thrall,” The chieftain said as he retreated his sword back into its sheath. “You will come to accept your fate one day. Look around you, all these beautiful women have,”

“I would rather kill you then become accustomed to a savage way of life”,

He grabbed her by her hair and almost snapped her neck as he forced her to look at his face.

“Now listen here,” he began to bark. “If you disobey your new master then you shall be fed to my wolves. Oh, and I’ll see to it too”,

She winced but still held fury in her sharp appearance as she glared at the dark-elf. Perhaps it was that she still held hope in her soul that the tribesmen would come searching for her, or maybe it was the thought of her parents being delivered her chewed up corps; she didn’t want to die, she’d rather suffer than die.

He let go of her hair and sighed. He placed his knife back in its sheath and turned his gaze to the elves behind the kneeling woman. “Take her to the General, he deserves a thrall,” he sat on his throne of steel and waved them off. “We need more of him after all”,

The elves roughly grabbed her shoulders and stood her up. Ashamed and with her head down, she was led through the town with a rope tied to her neck. Alagone gripped her raggedy doll in hand, it was the only thing that reminded her of home.

The town itself seemed gloomy, with mans sparing each other and slave women working. The sky was grey and foggy with smoke coming from fires and chimneys that kept children warm and meat roasted. Some of the women glanced at her, awaiting to see whom the new captive would be delivered to.

A group of children ran in front of her captor. They giggled and roughhoused with each other into the mud. They looked pure dark elven, with dark skin of blue and long hair. She had wondered, how could a race that had to interbreed with humans produce pure dark-elves?

Scopaesthesia overcame her as she tore her gaze from the ground to meet the eyes that bore into her soul. She looked up, on a bench sat a human woman with a bowl in her hand as she sorted out seeds and hummed an all too familiar tune. It was then she recognized the delicate voice that hummed her tribe’s anthem, it was Nanael, her best friend that had gone missing years before.

Her eyes widened with glee as they made eye contact. Alagona fought the urge to tug on her rope and run over to her old friend.

“Nanael….” Alagona whispered to no one in particular.

“Keep your head down,” the elf behind her yelled as he shoved her head of hair down rather roughly.

Her legs became tired and her shoes became worn, but she never showed pain on her face as she walked with confidence under the gaze of her captors.

Each house looked the same. They all were round, with wooden doors and steel frames, different from the houses back at Lilieguard.

“Keep up, girl,” the elf behind Alagona barked. He then took his whip from his leather belt and whipped her back with all his might.

“Oww,” she whimpered and stumbled forward, nearly bumping into the elf before her. But the slaver paid no attention to her, for he was too preoccupied with reaching the general’s house.

“Well, whore” the elf sinisterly said as he turned to the woman behind him. “Good luck, our General isn’t known for being tender-hearted to your kind. He’s killed thousands of your tribesmen, probably even your father, and now you will worship the ground he walks on, how pathetic your race truly is,”

“ I will never submit to your kind,” Alagona rebuked as tears began to form in her eyes. She fully took everything in, the slavers, her captors… the dark-elves. She could never fully grasp how she lost her family, she would never see them again and it was all their fault. It was then she thought about her civic duty as a slave to these mans, she was to allow them on top of her to plant their seed in her womb; she would carry their child until birthing; raise and nurse their child; and then once the child was old enough, she would watch them be sent to war, possibly to kill her kind. “You will not break me,”

“General,” he yelled as he ignored Alagona and turned towards the wooden door.

They waited for a while until an elderly woman opened the door. She was human, like Alagona, but she was too old to be considered a maiden and bear children. Her hair was long, almost as long as the vines that grew on the outside of the roundhouse, it reminded Alagona of her mother’s own hair.

“The General isn’t accepting visitors at the moment,” The crone said as she rested a hand on her hip. She acknowledged Alagona with an eye-roll then turned her gaze to the slaver.

“Let me through, you old hag,” the elven slaver chided as he tried pushing through the door. The crone said as she put her foot down, not letting the dangerously tall elf get through. “You will let me through!” He yelled.

The woman stood her ground, boring into his eyes with a glare.

“Soaz ?” another woman’s voice called from inside the house. ”Are the slavers here ?” Her voice was different from the other woman’s, while Soaz’s voice was harsh, the other woman’s voice was almost sing-song like.

“Oh,” the other woman gasped as she peaked through the door.

“I don’t have time for this, where is your master ?” The elf that leads Alagona from behind jeered as he pointed his machete towards the woman.

“Oh dear, uhm.” She moved around and the woman named Soaz just rolled her eyes and left the doorway. “Come in,” she finally said, opening the door wider to fit them all in.