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For Val; Aftermath
Aug. 20th, 2019 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
freedomevadesIt had finally come to a close. He’d ignited his lightsaber into Baras’s gut and watched him keel over, his life dissipating in a final, agonized gasp. He had vowed the status quo could not stand, though despite his lofty station he could not bring himself to voice the specifics. He had walked from the Council chambers, head held high.
But it did not feel the same. Not like Grathan, who had tortured others for awful experiments. Not like Draahg, who had harmed his friends. There had been a satisfaction in aiming for the kill that was absent here. It was over, and this was proof his abuses were no burden to him any longer...but it was also for himself, and emptier for it.
The adrenaline left him as he and Quinn turned the corner into the hallway leading from the antechamber. He tried to mask the sudden rush of exhaustion and a sick feeling he couldn’t name.
“You see, Quinn? I told you, I would prove myself. I hope whatever doubts you had are alleviated now.”
The hints of several emotions flickered in him and were quickly controlled. The man could put most Jedi to shame. “I think- perhaps this is not the place, my lord.”
Oberon nodded, leaning on the wall as the aches of healing wounds set in. “I understand. Go back to the ship, Quinn. I’ll meet you there.”
For once, he seemed hesitant to obey. “Are you all right, my lord?”
“I’ll be fine. Go on.”
Quinn bowed his head with another, quiet my lord, and soon had vanished around another corner. Oberon sank to his knees, poisonous thoughts telling him he should be stronger. He was the Emperor’s Wrath, and he had slain the one who had reminded him so terribly of the people he once called his family, because he didn’t know that the word could mean anything else.
Someone approached - he could only hope it was Val or Vowrawn, because he didn’t think anyone but those two could see him on his knees and know it was not weakness.
But it did not feel the same. Not like Grathan, who had tortured others for awful experiments. Not like Draahg, who had harmed his friends. There had been a satisfaction in aiming for the kill that was absent here. It was over, and this was proof his abuses were no burden to him any longer...but it was also for himself, and emptier for it.
The adrenaline left him as he and Quinn turned the corner into the hallway leading from the antechamber. He tried to mask the sudden rush of exhaustion and a sick feeling he couldn’t name.
“You see, Quinn? I told you, I would prove myself. I hope whatever doubts you had are alleviated now.”
The hints of several emotions flickered in him and were quickly controlled. The man could put most Jedi to shame. “I think- perhaps this is not the place, my lord.”
Oberon nodded, leaning on the wall as the aches of healing wounds set in. “I understand. Go back to the ship, Quinn. I’ll meet you there.”
For once, he seemed hesitant to obey. “Are you all right, my lord?”
“I’ll be fine. Go on.”
Quinn bowed his head with another, quiet my lord, and soon had vanished around another corner. Oberon sank to his knees, poisonous thoughts telling him he should be stronger. He was the Emperor’s Wrath, and he had slain the one who had reminded him so terribly of the people he once called his family, because he didn’t know that the word could mean anything else.
Someone approached - he could only hope it was Val or Vowrawn, because he didn’t think anyone but those two could see him on his knees and know it was not weakness.
