Harbinger

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~ “Every lover is a warrior… ”~
-Ovid
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Preitha neither saw, nor heard, from Vader for the next three days. Each morning and evening she was escorted to the dining hall by her protocol droid and provided with lavish meals; smaller, but no less elaborate than her first supper at the fortress. After her second dinner she’d requested to meet the cook and a tiny, wire-framed man had appeared nervously at her side. He’d been downright shocked when she had complimented him on the food and thanked him for his effort.

In addition to the droid, Preitha had frequent company in Yana, the young girl that cleaned her suite. Yana had been quiet and shy at first, but had quickly warmed up to Preitha, and before long was more than willing to talk her ear off at any opportunity.

To Preitha’s surprise, the staff of Vader’s fortress was treated quite well by his Lordship. None within his employ were slaves. Though the majority of his staff consisted of droids, the few human employees were compensated generously for their time. They lived within the fortress, but were given access to the holonet, and were permitted weekly trips into the city, in the company of members of Vader’s personal guard, the 501st.

Yana was born into the Dark Lord’s service, her parents having been members of his staff at the time of her birth. Vader had gotten her a tutor when she was 5, and had demanded that she be taught everything a typical Couroscanti girl would learn. She’d been given the option to leave when she turned 14, but had chosen to stay. She said that Vader was fair and generous, and had never been unkind to her, though she’d heard rumors of his temper and his ruthlessness.

Preitha was allowed access to anywhere within the fortress that she wished except for Vader’s private rooms, which were, Yana informed her, strictly off limits to everyone save Vader’s exclusive medical staff.

On the bottom floor of one tower there was a massive training room, along with an armory and a warehouse, which held a seemingly endless supply of combat droids. According to Yana, Vader used these machines to practice his lightsaber skills, and it was not uncommon for him to destroy a dozen of them in a single session.

Preitha knew from Yana that Vader was still on Imperial Center and, for the most part, within the fortress’ walls, but she didn’t dare ask for him, lest she invoke his temper a second time.

When Vader did visit her again, it was to question her incessantly about Luke. He wanted to know what the boy looked like, how he acted, how he fought, what he’d eaten… She voluntarily allowed Vader to again probe her mind with the Force, re-experiencing all of her memories of Yavin 4, but he also wanted to hear her tell the stories - in her own words was how he’d put it.

She couldn’t understand why he was so fascinated with Luke. What did it matter what type of food the boy enjoyed? Vader stopped by several times a day to ask more questions. Then he’d leave as abruptly as he’d appeared. Once, he’d woken her in the middle of the night to ask about his hair color. Was it truly blond? Or was it more brownish? Or was it a brownish-blond? How would ‘she’ describe it?

It was downright odd.

She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to answer the questions. When she’d conceded that Luke was handsome, he had reacted with anger and jealousy. But the next day, when he’d asked her if she’d desired Luke and she’d said no, he’d seemed almost offended.

After several days of these sporadic interrogations, Preitha got up the nerve to ask for something that she’d wanted. She told Yana that she needed to speak with the Sith Lord directly, when and if he had a moment. This was not a request she could pose to her protocol droid.

Preitha’s suite of rooms was large and very comfortable. She had a small reference library, a sitting room, a bedroom, a cozy breakfast area that was never used, and a generously sized refresher. Everything was, of course, black. To her delight, the library was filled with resource information about her homeplanet, Chandrila. She poured over the data endlessly, memorizing the planet’s history, geography, and political structure.

She hadn’t forgotten the Death Star, or her father. She mourned him, and at times she would cry softly, let her guilt wash over her. For the most part, though, she tried to bury her grief, pushing it deep beneath the surface. She lost herself in the wealth of information about Chandrila, embracing the distraction, not even noticing the curious absence of any mention of the Motti family.

There was nothing, really, that she needed or wanted, except…

“You have a request for me?” Vader asked, entering the room less than an hour later.

“Well, yes, my Lord, it’s about my suite,” she admitted sheepishly.

“This is your home for the time being, Lieutenant Commander, I already told you that you could have whatever you wanted.”

“Yes, sire, I remember. I just wasn’t sure if you’d allow this.”

“Cost doesn’t concern me.”

“It’s just that I…” she trailed off.

“You what?” Vader prompted.

“I’d like some color.”

“Color?” he seemed puzzled.

“Yes. On the walls, or the fabric, or even, I guess, in my clothes.” She held her palms up in supplication, gesturing to the room. “Everything is just so… black.”

“So, you seek to be a feminine presence in the shadowed realm of my domain,” he intoned solemnly. “You think to add light to my darkness?” He leaned against the dresser with one elbow, his right foot crossed casually in front of the left.

“No, my Lord, I just-” Preitha sputtered.

“A Chandrilan flower in my wasteland,” he continued.

“No, I…” she trailed off and paused before cocking her head and setting her hands on her hips. “You’re teasing me,” she concluded.

“A bit,” he confessed.

“It isn’t funny,” she protested, but the corners of her mouth were curling traitorously into a smile even as she spoke.

At this Vader began to laugh outright, and Preitha herself dissolved into a fit of helpless giggles.

“You may have your color, little one,” he said finally, once their mirth had subsided. “But I have a request for you in return.”

Uh oh. Not more Luke questions. She didn’t think she could take it; she’d told him ‘everything’ already. “Okay,” she raised one eyebrow nonchalantly.

“Dine with me tonight,” he said. “In my private rooms.”

The invitation caught her off guard. “I’d be honored, my Lord,” she replied with a smile.

******

Yana was more nervous about the dinner than Preitha. She bounced around the room picking out dresses and laying them on the bed. Preitha wished she had a tenth of the girl’s energy. She allowed herself to be waited on and babied because she was too nervous to do it properly herself. She had no idea what to wear, or how to fix her hair. It wasn’t a problem though, Yana was more than happy to help.

“Just think!” she gushed, pushing Preitha into the ‘fresher and running water for the bath. “Dinner with his Lordship in his private rooms! Oh, my Lady, this is wonderful!”

“Is it?” Preitha asked distractedly, stepping into the steaming basin.

“Yes!” Yana poured a vial of oil into the water and the sweet scent of flowers wafted up to embrace them. “There’s never been a lady guest in the fortress before. He’s fond of you.”

“I don’t think so,” Preitha laughed, lowering herself until she was submerged up to her neck.

“Don’t be foolish,” the young girl told her. “The last time there was a guest here was years ago – some military commander – and his Lordship ignored the man entirely. He certainly didn’t have a grand feast prepared for him.”

Preitha considered this, chewing on her lower lip as she soaked. She allowed Yana to wash her hair with a mild, floral shampoo, still lost in thought. Despite her military upbringing, she was a young woman of twenty-two, and it was in her nature to daydream. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the tub, letting her arms float upwards on the buoyancy of the water. There was something almost romantic about the Sith Lord. He was mysterious, powerful, strong… not to mention an expert lover.

She smiled at the memory of their lovemaking. Vader seemed to be ruled by extremes. He was kind one moment, cruel the next. Understanding and accepting, and then jealous and irrational. It was impossible to figure him out; but Preitha was coming to accept that he was not ‘meant’ to be understood.

“Out with you, then,” Yana said, releasing the tub’s drain. “We have to get you dressed yet.”

Preitha stood and wrapped herself in an oversized towel, nuzzling the fabric against her chin.

She stepped out of the ‘fresher and found that her request for color had been honored already. Her bedroom was filled with flowers – the same Chandrilan blossoms that Vader had brought her on the Death Star.

“Where did these come from?” she asked incredulously, tracing one velveteen petal.

“TY-23 must have brought them in while you were in the bath,” Yana said, beaming. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

Preitha blushed. “They are. They’re perfect.”

“Let’s get you dressed. Then I’ll do your hair and make-up.”

Her hair? Preitha reached up and tugged at her curls in a self-conscious gesture. She never spent any time on her hair, wearing it either in a tight bun against the nape of her neck, or loose and untamed. And make-up? Forget about it. “I’ve never worn make-up before,” she confessed.

“Well, now is a perfect time to start.” Yana chose one of the dresses she’d placed on the bed – a simple black gown made of silk. It was sleeveless with an empire waist, and a flared, pleated skirt. The back of the garment dipped low – almost to her waist, leaving her back bare. “I think this one is best, don’t you?”

“Where’s the jacket?”

Yana giggled. “No jacket, milady. We could get you a cloak though, if you’re cold.”

Preitha sighed and reached for the dress. “Alright.”

Once she was dressed, Yana sat her down at the dressing table next to the bed and began to brush her hair vigorously. An obscene amount of pins and clips were then applied in order to pull Preitha’s thick curls away from her face into a sweeping up-do.

Next came a light application of make-up. Pale pink blush over the apples of her cheeks, shimmery green shade for her eyelids, and a maroon gloss on her lips. Lastly, Yana lined her eyes with a smoky grey kohl. She stepped back and admired her handiwork with pride.

“You look stunning, milady.”

Preitha hardly recognized herself. The make-up was subtle, but effective, accentuating the green sparkle of her eyes, and the curve of her lips. Soft tendrils of hair were left loose to frame her face.

“One last touch,” Yana said, handing her a small box. Inside was a single strand of pearls. “Lord Vader sent them for you.”

Preitha blushed and donned the necklace, pausing for one last glimpse in the mirror. She was ready.

“Lieutenant Commander, I will escort you to his Lordship,” TY-23 announced. “Are you ready?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Yana,” she said, giving the girl a quick hug before following the droid out into the hall.

Vader’s private rooms were located in the left tower of the fortress, taking up the top three levels of the massive structure. The turbolift that led to the rooms required a special scanning chip, which TY-23 produced from within his index finger. The lift seemed to take hours to rise to its’ destination.

“This way, Madam,” the droid intoned, gliding down the corridor.

Preitha followed behind the droid until they came to a set of doors, filling the wall in front of them. TY-23 used the same scanning chip on a plate set into the door, and the panels swung open to reveal another hallway.

Vader was waiting for her, standing in the center of the corridor with hands clasped behind his back under his cape. “My Lady,” he acknowledged with a nod.

“My Lord,” she responded, stepping through the doorway. Her heart quickened at the sight of him, and she felt her cheeks burn as she regarded him with open admiration.

He extended a hand to her and Preitha accepted it, allowed him to lead her down the corridor to the second door on the right. It opened to reveal a modest study. Vader deposited Preitha onto the sofa, and moved to a side hutch, where he poured her a glass of wine before sitting in a chair opposite her.

“The dress suits you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she blushed. “And thank you for the necklace, it’s beautiful.”

“They are pearls harvested from the Silver Sea.”

“That’s on Chandrila,” she identified, reaching up to finger the smooth, round jewels.

“You’ve been reading the data I provided for you.”

“Yes, I have. Thank you for that, as well.”

He watched her sip her wine in silence until he sensed that she had relaxed somewhat, and had become comfortable with her surroundings.

“I was seriously injured at the end of the Clone Wars,” he told her matter-of-factly.

She nodded. She’d heard the rumors.

“This armor,” he gestured to his suit, “is to sustain my life, and also to hide my appearance.”

Another nod. She sensed where the conversation was leading, and decided to help. “You can remove it here?”

“I can. But I am… a monster now.”

“No, you aren’t. Not to me.”

“I’d like to show you.”

Preitha nodded a third time, giving her consent. Vader reached for a small control pad sitting on the table between them and entered a lengthy code.

There was a slow, steady hiss as the room pressurized and filled with hyper-rich oxygen. Preitha felt a bit lightheaded, and had to adjust her breathing in order to accommodate the heavy air. She watched, fascinated, as Vader stood and began to remove the hard outer shell of his armor.

A protocol droid appeared at his side and accepted each item as it was removed, occasionally disappearing to deposit the items elsewhere. Beneath the armor, Vader was wearing a black bodysuit. Through the fine fabric, she could see that his body was firm and muscular.

His feet were made of metal. They were expertly crafted to resemble bones, muscles, and tendons though, delicate wirings fused with durasteel. The legs of his pants obscured her view, and Preitha couldn’t see where metal ended and flesh began. His gloves were removed to reveal hands that were artificial as well.

He paused and looked at her from under his lowered lashes, as if to gauge her reaction. Her expression was one of interest, but there was no fear or disgust in it.

Vader reached up and grasped the smooth dome of his helmet. There was a hiss and the click of breaking seals as he lifted it away, handing it to the waiting droid.

His skin was pale, almost translucent in the dim light. A fine layer of fuzz covered his otherwise bald head, and Preitha saw a wide, raised scar running across his scalp. Next, he pulled away the upper and lower halves of his mask. The soothing rhythm of synthesized breathing ceased, and the room fell eerily silent.

There was a pause.

Preitha leaned forward, curiosity overwhelming her as she looked at Lord Vader for the first time. He was a good deal older than her. His face was heavily scarred, but nevertheless handsome, with a firm, chiseled jaw and sharp, defined cheekbones.

His eyes were the most striking shade of blue she’d ever seen.

“And now you know,” he said calmly. His unaltered voice was slightly higher than the one she was used to, but it had the same melodic, lilting quality.

She stood and approached him gingerly. She reached up with one hand, paused, and drew back, waiting for permission. He nodded and she again moved her palm to his cheek, running her fingertips across his soft skin. Her green eyes locked onto his, holding his gaze as she explored his face with her hand. She traced every scar, each groove and ridge, growing bolder.

“Thank you,” she whispered, realizing the magnitude of what he’d shown her.

“Do you still admire me?” he asked quietly.

“More than ever.”

Preitha drew herself up on tip-toes and planted light, airy kisses across his face. She kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, and each of his scars, before pressing her lips against his.

Strong hands – hands hewn of metal – came up to caress the small of her back as Vader returned the kiss. It was gentle and unhurried, each of them savoring the new experience. The Sith Lord was tentative at first; it had been nearly twenty years since he’d kissed anyone, but Preitha responded to him with the same innocence and abandon as before, and he grew bolder, more confident. His tongue snaked out tracing the curve of her lips before slipping inside her mouth to twine with hers.

She continued to lightly stroke his face as they kissed, marveling in the feel of his silky skin. Vader trailed his fingers up her sides then circled around to her back once more, pulling her closer. She whimpered against his lips and hungrily sucked on his tongue, opening her mouth wider to receive more of the delicious sensation.

He groaned and slid his hands lower; grasping her ass to lift her into the air. Preitha instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck, not breaking contact for even a second. Vader continued to thrust his tongue into her mouth in a slow, intimate rhythm as he turned his body and maneuvered them back towards the chair, relying on the Force to keep from falling.

He eased himself down onto the cushion, with Preitha straddling his lap. She could feel the swell of his cock through their clothes and she moaned into his mouth, rotating her hips to press herself against his rigid length.

One slender hand slipped down to his chest and caressed the taut, toned flesh of his pecs. Then she moved lower still to trace the firm muscles of his stomach. He was every bit as strong and muscular as he appeared to be – every bit as powerful.

Vader lowered his head to lick at the soft hollow of her throat.

“My Lord,” she gasped, curling her fingers around the nape of his neck.

He passed a hand through her hair, tugging it free of the pins, which rained down on her shoulders and scattered across the floor. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, then traced a path along her neck to her ear. His tongue slithered inside momentarily before he caught her earlobe between his teeth.

“I think I’ll keep you,” he whispered.