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Title: Concerto Part I: Rondo per Dovere
Author: Lady Jehanne (lady_jehanne@yahoo.com)
Rating: R
Characters: Vader, Raith Sienar, OFC.
Category: AU, Romance, some Angst.
Disclaimer: Darth Vader and the Star Wars universe belongs to Lucas. I just visit there.

Summary: A young woman follows where duty leads her.

The Concerto was a slender silver wedge against the Coruscant night sky as it threaded its way through the flight corridors to land on the roof of Sienar Fleet Systems. The custom yacht settled on the landing pad with almost millimetric precision, and its pilot and owner disembarked. A slender, graceful human woman in her late twenties, Kianna Argenil stood nearly six feet tall. Her hair was pure white, braided sensibly back, and her eyes a pale grey that tended to pick up the color of whatever she was wearing. Currently that was a long sleeved, high necked, knee-length blue tunic over a matching pair of blue slacks.

Raith Sienar had taken the young girl in upon her parents' tragic death. Though of a cadet branch of the Sienar family, her mother had married into House Reena, one of the Tapani noble houses. Taking in young Kianna had kept the contacts in that sector open and had given him an unexpected protege whose gift for ship design equalled his own. An older man now, with tidy grey hair and darker grey eyes than his 'niece', he strode forward with a smile to greet Kianna.

"I trust the flight here gave you no trouble? Are you feeling well?"

Kianna sighed, and answered, "I'm fine, Uncle. Flying over Coruscant has always been about as exciting as watching grass grow, but this time it was ridiculous. The skies are filled with Star Destroyers and half the system seems to be a military no fly zone... Is every Admiral in the Fleet here?"

Sienar laughed, "No, only the ones with political influence. And you'll be meeting most of them this evening." He paused as Kianna smiled, "That pleases you?"

Kianna nodded.

"I have to get married, it's for the good of the family and the company, you've made that clear. And I know you'll make the best decision. But... yes, marrying an officer would suit me. They would be away most of the time, and be unlikely to object if I continued doing design work for the company, since it would benefit the Fleet as well. And..." She paused, "I have no illusions about love, but if my husband and I could respect each other, that would be enough. Unfortunately, there seems to be very little to respect about many young noblemen."

Sienar smiled wryly and said, "A very practical answer. You've always been a dutiful, practical girl. Too many young nobles are raised with privileges, but without responsibilities to go along with them. I tried to avoid that trap with you. Especially since your parents died when you were so young, it would have been too easy to indulge you. I flatter myself that I have not done so."

Kianna smiled over at Raith Sienar as the two of them crossed the landing pad and entered the lift. "You pushed me hard, Uncle. And taught me to push myself harder. There was a time when I was... angry that you wouldn't just give me a position at SFS. But you were right. The fact that I earned my position made me value both it and the company more." She laughed suddenly. "I suppose teenagers never want to admit their elders are right, but I've long outgrown any rebellious nonsense."

Sienar's smile widened into a grin. "Such as designing racers, or wanting to be a concert musician? At least your rebellious phase was more interesting than most children's. And... you've never done anything to scandalize the family name. I have high hopes for you."

The pair exited the lift, and walked through a white, modern, minimalist hallway to Kianna's small suite. She visited the capital rarely, so there was no need for anything more than a place to sleep, a refresher, and whatever outfits needed to be stored. She would have rather slept on the Concerto, but in their circles that just wasn't done. Waiting on the bed was a gown of dove-grey satin with long, full sleeves gathered at the wrists and a modest neckline.

Kianna said, nodding toward the gown, "I take it that is what I am to wear tonight? It's lovely, Uncle. Shall I wear the platinum-set pearls with it?"

Sienar considered, then nodded. "That will do well. An understated display of wealth, and playing to your coloring." He smiled, and there seemed to be something almost grim about his expression. "I've avoided taking you to any affairs at the Imperial palace. They are a hotbed of treachery and deceit, with every noble decked out in his or her gaudy best. You will look like a vision of innocence and elegance next to them."

"If half the rumors of debauchery that come out of the court are true, I am an innocent compared to them. And I thank you for that." She gestured to behind him in the hall, where a pair of servant girls had arrived carrying her overnight case and a small locker containing her jewelry. "Though, if you will excuse me, Uncle, I really should start getting ready."

Raith Sienar smiled. "Of course, dear. I will be waiting."

It was several hours later when a very different-looking Kianna entered the Imperial palace at her Uncle's side. Her hair was pulled back from her face with small platinum combs, then fell in a cascade of curls and waves down her back to her waist. Subtly done makeup gave a hint of color to her cheeks, made her eyes seem even larger. The pale dove-grey gown clung to her torso, closer than she was used to, but the neckline was modest, suggesting rather than showing cleavage. A three inch wide collar of pearls held in a net of delicate platinum chains matched the platinum and pearl drops suspended from her ears. The full sleeves gathered at her wrists with small pearl buttons, and the skirts were full, almost bell-like. She knew the over-all effect was ethereal, almost angelic, making her seem younger than her twenty-eight years.

The Emperor's birthday gala spilled through multiple ballrooms and hallways, and the crowd was more than Kianna was used to. She loathed crowds with a bright, burning passion that her Uncle refused to indulge. A childhood fever had left her prone to migraines, but the medication she took daily was supposed to control them. So there was no reason for the headaches and nausea that crowds inspired in her other than nerves, or so her Uncle maintained. And nerves were something to be conquered. So Kianna kept a small, polite smile on her face and nodded and murmured noncommittal greetings to the various nobles he introduced her to.

Her uncle was in dark, formal robes of grey and black that made her own finery seem even brighter. Most of the nobles that her Uncle introduced her to were dressed just as conservatively as he was, which was something of a relief. The fact that they had flamboyantly dressed sons closer to her own age erased some of that relief. There were brief, pleasant interludes where he paused to speak with groups of Imperial officers, and she was able to ask some of them about the ships they served on. The reaction of the officers to her interest in ships seemed to range from amusement to approval. She made an effort to shine then, to seem enthralled with their stories. A serene, elegant figure compared to the vibrant silks and flashing gems of the other women. Not to mention the scandalous flashes of skin that most of them seemed to be showing. The contrast was striking, and Kianna could only hope that when they looked at her they saw a potential wife.

Unfortunately, her Uncle didn't let her remain with any one group for long. He seemed determined to introduce her to as many powerful people of his acquaintance as possible. Letting them see the goods, she supposed, and decide on if they'd make an offer. For those involved in manufacturing and trade, there would always be the possibility of exclusive contracts and deals. For nobles and Imperial officers, it would be in something less tangible, the possibility of political influence and social rank. Her Uncle wasn't needlessly cruel, just... practical. The more connections the family had, the more chances of surviving whatever upheavals and changes the future might bring. And though she might prefer to be married to an officer, the good of the family had to come first.

It took about three hours in the vast crowd to make all the introductions that her Uncle felt were necessary. And by the end of it, Kianna was ready to go home, or at least back to her yacht. Unfortunately, her Uncle showed no sign of wanting to depart. They were also closer to the Imperial presence than she had ever thought of being. She could catch occasional glimpses of the throne dais over the heads of the crowd, a mere thirty or so yards away.

Sienar regarded his niece.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn is here, and I wish to ask his opinion of the new engine upgrades. I want you to circulate in the meantime, get to know people. But not too closely."

Kianna was disappointed. She would rather hear the famous Grand Admiral talk about the fleet... but after publicly introducing her to every family with a marriageable son, her Uncle wouldn't want to give the impression he was considering marriage with a non-human for his niece. That kind of rumor could ruin her chances.

A murmured, "Of course, Uncle." And she watched as he moved through the crowd in the direction of a tall blue figure in a crisp white uniform.

She had no thought of trying to work closer to the throne. Just maneuvering through the crowd was an intricate dance of rank and association that got worse the closer you got to the Imperial dais. At the same time, she didn't want to surrender any perceived advantage that working this far had earned her. And, spotting a Falleen with a human woman half falling over him, and half falling out of her gown, she really had no taste at the moment for husband-hunting.

Slowly Kianna worked her way through the crowd towards the nearest wall, her expression schooled to meaningless politeness, vaguely murmured greetings passing through lips arranged in an equally vague smile. Many of the younger nobles seemed drunk, or perhaps had indulged in less legal intoxicants. The thought turned her stomach, and the scent of perfumes made her feel slightly light headed. Perhaps she could find one of the scattered groups of Imperial officers. She could listen to their discussions, perhaps ask them about their ships.

Suddenly she found herself at the edge of a small clearing in the crowd, as if she had stepped across an invisible half circle that no one dare cross. The reason for the clearing stood near the wall, the black cloaked and armored figure of Darth Vader stood as erect as a soldier on review. As he filled her perception, she hoped she only imagined that he seemed to radiate disapproval of the entire crowd. His masked face turned towards her. Oh hells.

Deciding that a bold advance would make her look less foolish than a retreat at this point, Kianna stepped forward, and dropped a curtsy.

"Lord Vader, forgive my presumption. I am Lady Argenil, and I was wondering what you thought about the newest modifications to the P-s4 ion engines?"

She mentally cursed herself for an idiot. The second most powerful man in the galaxy, and she asks him about ion engines.

Vader waited before answering. "I... approve. With further modification, my TIE Fighter has achieved an engine efficiency of ninety-three percent." His tone held just a faint hint of triumph, even through the cold metallic tone of his voder.

Kianna found herself staring just a bit. "Ninety three? Your engineer is either a genius or a sorcerer... The official prototype only hit eighty-seven, and the concept-ship I use for my tests I managed to squeak out a ninety-one percent... I used a molybdenum alloy on the injectors that was rejected for the final design..."

Vader commented, perhaps a bit drily, "I do my own modifications."

Kianna blushed and blurted, "All right, perhaps a bit of both..." She stopped suddenly realizing what she had just said, but refused to allow her verbal faux pas to derail the conversation. "So what did you do besides replace the injectors? That extra two percent had to come from somewhere..."

Though no one approached Vader close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation, it did not go unnoticed. Lord Vader's disdain for high society was well known, and the sight of a young woman engaged in conversation with him was shocking. Rumors flew through the crowded ballroom, attracting the attention of those who would normally pay no attention to a minor noblewoman, even one related to the Sienar family. Prince Xizor was one of them. The Falleen looked with disfavor on the young woman speaking animatedly with the Dark Lord of the Sith. Her small hands made neat, precise gestures illustrating whatever point she was making.

Moving closer, he could tell the moment when his pheromones hit her, a tell-tale flush creeping up the back of her neck. Knowing the effect his alien, exotic looks and Falleen pheromones had on women, he bowed to the young woman, giving her a charming smile. Seducing her away from Vader's side and abandoning her might be petty, but it would also be satisfying.

"I wouldn't have expected it of Vader, to keep the most beautiful woman here to himself."

Kianna blinked slowly, dazedly at Xizor, uncertain of what was happening. She clasped her right wrist with her left hand in front of herself, and stood very still, almost as rigid as Vader himself. Something about the green skinned man made her feel.... entirely inappropriately.

"But I'm not the most beautiful woman here. I doubt I'm in the top twenty." She frowned faintly, "Or are you flirting with me, Prince Xizor? My family disapproves of flirtations." And affairs. And an affair with a non-human... She couldn't figure out why she was even considering an affair with a non-human.

"A pity... A young woman should be given every opportunity to enjoy... flirtations."

The way Prince Xizor said "flirtation" made it sound like he was offering something far more than mere words.

Kianna swallowed hard. She hadn't had anything intoxicating to drink tonight, but now she wondered if her water earlier had been spiked. She felt flushed, almost feverish, and really couldn't think straight. Xizor seemed to be standing a little bit closer every time she looked his way, and the fact sent her nearly into a panic.

"So, Prince Xizor, do you know anything about starship engines?"

Prince Xizor blinked at her, surprised by the question, "No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Ah. A pity. I was telling Lord Vader about the modifications I'm making to my personal yacht."

Actually, she had been telling Vader no such thing, they had been discussing military craft, but she didn't feel like it would be right discussing them with a civilian. Part of her mind watched appalled as she began to babble on about the upgrades she had made. And there was plenty to babble about. Originally a gift for her sixteenth birthday, the only thing left standard about the small, sleek craft was the size of the bolts.

Prince Xizor gave her a look nearly as appalled as she felt, but Vader seemed almost to encourage her. Whenever she thought she might wind down, Lord Vader would ask her another question, and she'd find herself babbling on again.

After another ten minutes of this, Prince Xizor interrupted her mid-sentence to say, "If you will excuse me, I just spotted an old friend I need to have a word with."

It was almost a wrenching sensation watching Prince Xizor leave, but there was also a horrid feeling of relief. If she had been alone, she might have burst into tears. But she was in the middle of a party, in the same room as the Emperor, with Darth Vader himself standing before her. All she could do was look up at his mask with an expression that tried to hide her inner turmoil, and didn't quite succeed.

"I... I apologize Lord Vader, I don't know what came over me."

Lord Vader reached over, taking hold of her arm in a firm grip.

"Come with me."

There was no way she could resist him steering her out of the ballroom without making a scene, and a scene was the last thing she wanted. The door he took her through led out to the garden, and glowspheres overhead made things nearly as bright as an overcast day. Leading her a short distance from the palace, he stopped still within clear view of anyone inside.

Softly he said, "Falleens such as Prince Xizor secrete powerful pheromones that are attractive to the opposite sex."

Kianna blushed crimson, her eyes dropping from his mask.

"Oh..." Her voice was a small, ashamed murmur. "Was it... that obvious?"

A deep sound came from Vader's voder, and Kianna looked up in disbelief at what could only be a chuckle.

"Not at all. I have seen grown women throw themselves into his arms, all but stripping themselves in public, under his influence."

"How... appalling."

Kianna felt her stomach turn over at the very thought. Now that Prince Xizor was no longer present, she could remember seeing him in the crowd earlier. There had been a woman hanging all over him in a disgraceful display. Had he expected her to do the same? Her Uncle would have disowned her on the spot!

Vader seemed to be giving her his full attention, leaning down towards her slightly. He was even taller than Kianna, something that wasn't common.

"His behavior... or theirs?"

"Both." Kianna's voice was firmer, and she could feel her mind clearing with every breath of clean air. "Him for encouraging it, them for indulging in it." Her lips pressed to a thin, disapproving line. "I am grateful that my Uncle raised me better than that. He would never forgive me if I disgraced him in public." She gave Vader a small, graceful bow. "And thanks to you I am now warned. Thank you, my Lord. I am in your debt."

Vader made a dismissive gesture with his left hand. "Thwarting Prince Xizor is its own reward. But you have made an enemy of him."

Kianna's lips curved in a small, grim smile and a steely look entered her eyes. "They say you can judge a person by their enemies... Prince Xizor's enmity is a compliment to us both. I will be sure to warn my Uncle."

The black visor continued to regard her, and Kianna tilted her chin up just a bit, looking back almost defiantly. Yes, the masked gaze was a bit disconcerting, but she wasn't going to flinch from it now.

Vader said firmly, "I will escort you back to your Uncle."

And offered her a place on his arm. More dignified than how he had steered her out into the garden in the first place. At the thought of being returned to her uncle in the same manner, Kianna took the place he offered her.

A murmur moved through the crowd as the two entered and people drew back from the pair as if afraid to risk brushing against them. Kianna was painfully aware of the stares, but her expression remained serene. It wasn't unusual for nobles to be gawked at, but not by other nobles. Not by nobles who outranked her. She never faltered or flinched, her long skirts and graceful step making her seem to glide across the floor at Vader's side.

Then the crowds parted a bit before her, and it wasn't just strangers staring at her, but her own Uncle. It felt like a knife through her heart, having him standing there, staring at her as if he had never seen her before. Kianna tried to tell herself that it was just that he was seeing his hopes of a quick match shattered. Any suitors would likely keep their distance until they were sure Vader was not interested. But a niece who was rumored to be on friendly terms with Vader, her Uncle could surely use that. Just as he used her exotic looks or title.

Darth Vader took the hand that rested on his arm, handing her off to her Uncle with careful formality. His voice was soft, a deep bass rumble that carried no further than the three of them. "The Falleen noticed her."

Then he turned on his heel, moving away through a crowd that parted quickly before him but was slow to close up behind.

Raith Sienar looked down at her, his expression calm, perhaps thoughtful. His whisper to her, however, was harsh. "What were you thinking?"

Kianna kept the same serene smile on her face. People were still staring at them both, not quite willing to approach despite their curiosity.

"I'm thinking," she murmured, "that Lord Vader saved me from an attempted seduction by Prince Xizor, and that we should both be grateful." She paused, "And perhaps we should ask Admiral Griff, or better yet, Captain Piett for a tour of the Accuser's engine room. Piett has a good reputation, is young for his rank, and has no Core World contacts...."

And once it became obvious that Vader's interest in Kianna was limited, a wife with her rank and connections would appeal to an officer who was rumored to have risen under the influence of Darth Vader.

Sienar began moving slowly through the crowd, still talking softly with his niece, "It would directly benefit Piett more than the firm. Indirectly..."

Kianna just nodded. Indirectly, her Uncle would find a way to use the association with Vader. Just as he found a use for everything else that came to hand. The fact that it included using her no longer bothered her. Love had died for her in the shuttle explosion that claimed her parents when she was five. Duty, her only fellow survivor, remained.

They hadn't moved far when a servant in black and red Imperial livery approached. "Raith Sienar. The Emperor requests your presence, and that of your niece."

Sienar nodded once, and followed the servant with Kianna trailing obediently along beside him. As they approached the dais, Sienar bowed deeply and Kianna sunk into a deep curtsy, her skirts spreading out bell-like around her.

Palpatine seemed almost dwarfed by the throne he sat in, a wizened figure in the dark robes and hooded cloak that he favored since his disfigurement at the hands of the Jedi.

"Raith Sienar, my old friend... And this lovely child is your niece?" His hollow, sunken smile turned on her next. "Your Uncle was one of my earliest supporters, child. Back when I was a mere Senator."

Sienar's voice was strong, his smile warmer than the Emperor's. "You were never 'merely' anything, your Majesty. And my support for you has more than been repaid."

Kianna remained silent, hands folded demurely before her, eyes lowered slightly. It was the best thing to do when her Uncle was speaking, to pretend to be a piece of decorative statuary, silent and infinitely patient.

"And now you are looking for a husband for your niece... We share a similar problem, Raith... neither of us wed... we have no children of our own to carry on our legacies."

Sienar seemed suddenly stiff, almost uncomfortable, "I am sure Lord Vader will, when the sad day comes, prove to be a worthy successor."

The Emperor nodded. "But it will take more than one generation to guarantee the stability of the Empire... there needs to be a line of succession."

Kianna could feel the Emperor's eyes on her, as well as the start of a faint headache. Nerves, she told herself. Still, he did not address her directly. A heavy tread approached the dais, the sound of deep, mechanical breathing. The Emperor smiled, his head raising beneath his hood to regard dark armored figure.

"Ah, Lord Vader... I believe you met Lady Argenil earlier..."

Brriefly." Lord Vader's voice was flat, dismissive, even with the voder's mechanical distortion.

The words from the Emperor that followed turned Kianna's blood cold.

"Her Uncle is looking for a husband for Lady Argenil. And you, Lord Vader, need an heir to follow you. The Imperial succession must be secure."

In the corner of her eye, she saw Lord Vader's head rise with a snap. Kianna wanted to scream a denial, that she didn't want this, wasn't trying for this. Instead she remained as she was, still, outwardly serene.

The Emperor went on remorselessly, "You will marry the Lady Argenil, and solve both our problems."

Her Uncle remained outwardly calm, bowing to the Emperor, and said, "Your Majesty, this is an undeserved honor..." Lord Vader, at the same moment, started to raise his hand.

Palpatine's voice cracked like a whip. "Do not defy me on this," he said, more quietly than one would expect.

For a moment, Kianna saw something in the Emperor's eyes utterly unlike his publicly avuncular image. Then there was a stabbing pain behind her eyes, as her headache attacked in force, and the thought was forgotten. She was forced to close her eyes against it, and for a moment, her facade slipped as she tried to focus through the pain. Palpatine's voice resumed his previous kindly tone.

"Lord Vader, please escort Lady Argenil to a guest suite in the palace... She seems overwhelmed, and this may be the only time you have with your new fiancee for a few days."

Kianna opened her eyes at the sound of Lord Vader's approach. And for a moment, as she looked up at him, she knew there was panic in her eyes. Then she carefully schooled her expression to one of serenity as Vader offered her a place on his arm. She took her place on it gracefully, and as Lord Vader bowed to the Emperor, Kianna curtsied deeply. They then departed together, the crowd parting before them.

The halls of the palace were floored in polished white stone and the walls arched gracefully overhead to the domed ceilings above. The ways Lord Vader led Kianna through were mostly empty, an occasional guard, an even more occasional servant. The emptiness was a relief to Kianna and she could feel her headache fading away to nothing.

Softly she commented, "The Emperor has... thoroughly ruined my Uncle's plans."

Darth Vader did not look at her, did not slow his steady pace.

"Indeed? I thought he had brought you here to find a husband." His voice was heavy with anger.

Kianna's smile turned slightly grim.

"A husband, yes. One that he could manipulate and use to his advantage. One who would be in debt to him for either my wealth, my title, or both. You are rather beyond his manipulation, and anything he could offer you would be insignificant. And if he leaves me the company, then either you or our children would likely absorb it into the Imperial government." She paused. "Not that he won't try to use this to his advantage. Uncle Sienar uses everything he can to his advantage."

His helm turned to regard her as they walked together.

 "Even you?"

"Especially me." She didn't sound resentful, accepting this as the way of things. "And once we are married, the loyalty I give him will then belong to you... and you have no loyalty to him. He spent a little over two decades making me into his tool, and with a few words the Emperor has torn me from his grasp."

"And your loyalty will be to me?"

His tone wasn't accusatory, more thoughtful. Brooding perhaps.

"Yes, my lord. This is an arrangement neither of us asked for... but I will do my duty."

What else could she do? Run away? Kill herself? Try to refuse? Make a scene? Disobedience always brought punishment, and this time it would be not just on herself, but her entire family, the entire corporation. You did you duty, and accepted the costs.

"If you would, my lord... I would have my ship, the Concerto, moved to your palace and my clothing and effects brought to me. I would feel better with her under your security."

Did he understand what she was offering him? Her ship, her only avenue of escape, would be under his control. Her belongings, her files, her life would be available for his inspection.

There was a pause before he responded, "It will be done." His voice was firm, controlling.

Kianna glanced up at him. Yes, he was the kind of man who needed to be in control of the situation.

"If there is... anything you wish me to study, a type of music you prefer, any additional duties you might want me to undertake... Please let me know, my lord. I ... know very little of you. You are a very private man, and I depend upon you to instruct me."

Vader made no response to that, and Kianna felt a blush rise to her cheeks which she quickly fought down.

Abruptly he stopped in front of a set of doors which opened as if by an unseen hand.

"These will be your rooms."

Kianna curtsied to him.

"Thank you, my Lord."

It never occurred to her to be anything other than formal. Kianna watched as he turned about in a perfect military left face, striding away. She turned and entered the suite, the doors closing behind her with a solid, final sound.

The days that followed felt like a flurry of activity around Kianna, but she herself was given very little to do and she did not catch so much as a glimpse of Lord Vader. The Emperor's staff would be running the wedding, which would happen in less than a week, and only the most trivial of decisions was given to her to make, this flower versus that one, this sleeve or that on her gown. The major decisions were made elsewhere, presumably by the Emperor himself. The vows would be exchanged in private, in the ancient Sith tongue. She was forced to memorize them by rote, a vow to obey and honor her husband, all she had becoming his. Him vowing to protect her and honor her above all other women. The wedding gown was to be red, a color that Kianna felt did not suit her in the least, but was apparently a tradition for Sith brides. Even the guest list was decided by someone else, not that Kianna would have had any friends to add to it. The few people in her life that she had thought of as friends were mostly old teachers and instructors, and dropping them into Imperial intrigue would be a poor return for what they had taught her. She did succeed in squashing the idea of a formal dinner reception afterward. It was well known that Lord Vader did not eat in public, and so neither would she.

The first day she endured with exceptional patience and grace. By the end of the second, she had occasional sharp words or withering looks for the servants. If they had been her servants, she would have dismissed several of them on the spot. Being a guest of the Emperor, however, she had little redress. The minor show of temper, however, seemed to be effective on the most part. Indeed, it seemed almost to be expected. Kianna's request to have the two worst offenders removed were ignored, making her suspect that either they were spying on her, that this was some sort of test, or that the future wife of Darth Vader counted for that little in the palace hierarchy.

On the third morning while she was having breakfast on her balcony the opportunity came to test which it was. The worst of the two girls, Jia, was reading through the correspondence that had begun to accumulate for Kianna. Jia scrolled through the datapad, to the next message, "An invitation to speak before the college of Engineer at the University of Reena, due to your advancements in engine design and love of mechanical engineering." There was the faintest trace of a smirk as Jia went on, "That's appropriate given who you'll be marrying."

Kianna's hand whipped out to slap the woman's face, feeling a distinct pleasure at the sound of the impact. But the way Jia shifted her weight with the blow was wrong. Or rather, was too good, and familiar to Kianna from her training to avoid assassination attempts. Kianna glared, now genuinely infuriated, at the servant woman.

"You will leave my presence, and you will not return. Or I will remove you," she said evenly.

Jia didn't quite smirk.

"I'm afraid that's not up to you, my lady."

Kianna had had enough. She lunged for the woman's hair, the kind of move she'd be expected to make if she was as foolish as everyone seemed to assume. Jia's body twisted to avoid her just as Kianna expected, only to find Kianna already there, moving to use Jia's momentum against her. Kianna smiled grimly as she threw the woman over the balcony.

It was a mere three stories to the gardens below, not far enough to kill Jia unless she happened to land wrong. Kianna ignored the stares of the other servants, who had gathered just inside the balcony doors at the commotion, and calmly sat. She poured herself a fresh cup of tea, buttered a piece of breakfast bread, and coolly continued with her meal as if nothing had happened. The other serving women were subdued and scurried to help her get ready. For once, the service was up to standard, with no comments or sly looks.

It was mid-afternoon and she was looking through the correspondence on her own when the door to her sitting room opened, and Lord Vader's figure filled the doorway. Kianna rose, bowing to him respectfully, and gestured to the servants.

"Out."

The women all but fled the room, not needing to be told twice.

Vader said nothing until the last of the servants was gone, and the door closed behind them.

"I did not expect to be told to call my future wife to order for... throwing a servant out the window. I trust you have an explanation?"

Kianna tilted her chin up defiantly, "It was over a balcony ledge, not out a window. And I have put up with enough knowing looks and sly comments from the servants. I will not tolerate insults to my husband to be."

Vader paused. This was unexpected. "You threw this woman over a balcony because she insulted me?"

"And because she moved like a trained fighter. It was far safer than trying to throw her across my sitting room and then out the door." Kianna paced a little, growing angry, and said as coolly as she could, "I am not allowed to make the most basic decisions about my day or this wedding. My request to remove the worst of the servants was ignored. They decided I was powerless, that there were no repercussions for their slights towards me." She looked up at the armor clad figure of Vader, refusing to back down. "Today they learned otherwise."

Vader stared down at her, silent for a moment, then said with a tone of cold finality, "You will not throw any of the Emperor's servants off a balcony again." Then he turned and left the room without waiting for her response.

Kianna stared after him, murmuring to herself, "Of course not... that trick only works once. At least now I know what it takes to see my husband to be."

With a sigh she turned to the servants who were cautiously re-entering the room. Less than two days remained until her marriage to Lord Vader.

The following morning, just after breakfast, Kianna was going over the day's schedule with a far more respectful servant when the doors to the sitting room opened without warning. Kianna's eyes went wide when she saw the Emperor standing in the doorway, and she quickly dropped into a deep curtsy.

"Your Majesty."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the servant girl do the same.

Palpatine gestured abruptly to the girl.

"Leave us."

And she quickly rose and scurried from the room.

Emperor Palpatine smiled at Kianna, and said, almost kindly, "Rise, child..." He made his way slowly to a chair, sinking into it. When she did not move, he said, "Sit, sit... you are far too tall for an old man to look up to."

Kianna sank into the couch, a bit awed to find herself alone in her rooms with the Emperor himself. "Thank you, your Majesty... How can I serve you?"

Palpatine heaved a sigh, as if the burdens of the universe rested on his shriveled shoulders.

"I came to apologize to you... for putting your life in danger."

Kianna felt her stomach sink, grow queasy, and a faint headache start. She had a sudden, horrible feeling as to what he was talking about, but tried to deny it.

"I have been the target for assassins my whole life, Your Majesty. You do not need to apologize for that..."

Palpatine shook his head, "I do not speak of assassins, child, but of Lord Vader. When I saw the two of you together in the ballroom, it was like a glimpse of the man he had been. I had hoped by forcing you two together I might see more of that man. But that hasn't been the case, has it?" His voice was thick with sympathy.

Kianna swallowed hard. "I... never hoped for love, your Majesty. Not from an arranged marriage. But I had hoped at least for respect. Lord Vader seems... completely indifferent to me. Is... Is it something I am doing wrong?"

"No, child, not at all. Lord Vader is... not the man he was. But he has always been loyal to me, and I have tried to reward that." He sounded tired, concerned, continuing, "But there is... very little of him left, beneath that armor. And that has taken a great toll on his mind. He is distant, aloof most of the time... but when angry, he becomes violent." He sighed. "No... I should not blame his injuries. It started even before that. I suppose the burden is on me to tell you."

Kianna shook her head, "Not if it makes you uncomfortable, your majesty. I will simply try my best not to anger him. He... seems to have little interest in seeing me, even now."

"It may not be that easy... but yes, keeping apart from him might help keep you safe. I can help you with that. He is still the best commander I have, after all. You... won't resent it if I send him away?" His voice trailed off, worriedly, as if he did not know the answer.

Kianna smiled to reassure him, despite the growing pain behind her eyes. She hadn't had a true migraine in years; her medication was supposed to prevent them... why now, of all times?

"No, your majesty, of course I won't resent it. The Empire needs his skills as a commander, I understand that. But... why do you think Lord Vader is a threat to me? Is it just his temper?"

Palpatine sighed sadly. "He had another name once, child... another life. Never ask him about it, or hint that I told you... it would only enrage him." Red-rimmed eyes stared into hers, and she felt that growing queasiness in her stomach. As if something horrible was coming. "He had a wife once... He killed her. And I... I helped cover it up." Kianna gasped, feeling all the blood drain from her face. Palpatine nodded slowly, and then continued. "He thought she had betrayed him, but I can't believe it... she was a good woman, and very much in love with him. Do you understand now what a horrible thing I've done? I've put your life at terrible risk, doomed you to a loveless marriage... and for nothing."

Kianna swallowed hard. She felt ill, worse than she had in ages, but was determined not to disgrace herself in the Emperor's presence.

"You... could cancel the wedding. It would ruin me, but..." But I'd still be alive. She couldn't make herself say that. It would betray her family, all she was raised to believe. "I... I know my duty, your Majesty. And the Empire still needs an heir. That hasn't changed."

The Emperor sighed sadly, "Indeed, it hasn't, child. And that is why the wedding must go forward." He paused as though something had just occurred to him. "However..." he said, "after you have given him a child, or perhaps two... accommodations might be made. And if his behavior should... change. Become more erratic than usual... you should come to me. I will do my best to protect you."

Kianna's voice trembled despite herself. "Thank you, your majesty... If... if you will forgive me, I think I need some time alone."

The Emperor rose smiling in what Kianna supposed was sympathy, and said, "Of course, child, of course... just remember that you can count on me... if not Lord Vader."

Kianna rose as well, curtsying to the Emperor as he departed, then as soon as the doors closed she bolted for the 'fresher. As she lost the contents of her breakfast, she prayed that she wasn't coming down ill. The last thing she needed was to embarrass her new husband in front of the entire Empire on her wedding day. As she wiped her face with a cool, damp cloth she realized to her surprised relief that her headache which had been so horrific in the Emperor's presence was quickly fading. Mere nerves, she scolded herself, not a migraine at all. And not something she had time for, not with the wedding tomorrow.

The rest of the day passed in a dazed blur. There was the final fitting for her dress, practice reciting the oaths and signing her name in the odd Sith script. Kianna ate when meals were brought, but couldn't remember afterwards what she had eaten. She went to bed early, and supposed she slept, but she couldn't remember doing so afterwards. All she could remember was laying, staring into the dark, wishing the Emperor had kept his revelations to himself. Wondering if she would end up like the bride in a folk tale, strangled on her wedding night. Wondering if the Emperor really cared so much about her situation, why hadn't Jia been removed when she asked?

The day of her wedding Kianna rose early, not waiting for the servants to wake her, and risked taking two of her migraine pills. It left her feeling odd, though not unpleasantly so, and she moved as if in a dream to the 'fresher. When she emerged and sat down for breakfast she found she had little appetite, but ate anyway, barely tasting the food. Perhaps taking the extra medication was a mistake, but she didn't dare have a migraine attack today of all days, and her personal physician was back home, a quarter of a galaxy away. Home no longer, after tonight.

The servant women surrounded her, tending her carefully as if she was made of glass, their voices lowered, fearful murmurs. She let them fuss over her, doing her hair, her makeup, her nails. Her gaze was impassive, emotionless as she watched them. She felt numb. Wanted to ask what she was doing here. But in the end she knew the answer: her duty. If she succeeded, her family would endure as long as the Empire endured. A few bites of lunch, a few sips of wine, and then they were helping her into the gown. A deep red, the shade of spilled blood, it clung to her torso like a second skin, slipped snugly over her waist and hips, then fell in a straight line to the ground. The sleeves were just as form fitting, and a dozen ruby buttons had to be fastened to close them from elbow to wrist. A gold necklace high and wide enough to be called a collar, and thickly studded with fire rubies was draped about her neck and fastened behind.

One of the servants murmured, "The jewelry is a gift from Lord Vader," as she hung a pair of matching earrings from Kianna's ears.

Kianna just nodded slightly. The necklace was worth a fortune, not just for the materials, but for the craftsmanship. She would have to thank Lord Vader later. As the servants finished their work and stepped away, Kianna rose and crossed to a mirror. She looked almost alien; the deep red made her pale skin seem even paler, almost translucent, and it did nothing to soften the whiteness of her hair, the pale grey color of her eyes. The lines of the gown complimented her height, made her seem even taller, thinner. The neckline might have been slightly immodest, but the necklace reached from just below her chin to well below the neckline of the gown, a shimmering second skin of gold and fire rubies. The girl she had been a mere week ago was gone; the figure in her reflection was a woman. A faint smile crossed her lips.

A chime came from the door to her rooms, and it opened to a young man in Imperial livery.

"It's time," the lad said.

Kianna turned to face him, her smile fading into what she hoped was a look of polite blankness. But whatever he saw in her face, it made him turn pale.

"Lead the way." Kianna's voice was cool, calm.

She followed, leaving the servants behind to pack up her belongings. Her gait was smooth, almost gliding. Destiny and duty. She couldn't escape either.

At the end of a long hallway on the entry level of the palace, Lord Vader stood, waiting for her. Her escort stepped aside, and Kianna crossed the last few yards on her own. She laid her left hand in his right one, and looked up into the expressionless mask.

"I...thank you for the necklace," she whispered. "It's lovely."

Vader simply nodded, and led her into the next room. It was modest in size by the standards of the Imperial palace, and dominated by a throne that seemed to be made of stone slabs. Emperor Palpatine seemed almost dwarfed by it where he sat in the shadows of the throne, his white face disturbing as he watched them approach. The floor was of some black stone, rough instead of polished. Lord Vader's footfalls sounded loud to Kianna's ears, echoing off the grey granite walls that loomed inwards, as if contemplating crushing them all. Vader stopped before the throne, and Kianna stopped with him, warned by a faint pressure on her arm. Another faint press of his fingers let her kneel in unison with him, the movement as smooth as if rehearsed.

Palpatine kept them kneeling there for what felt like a long time, long enough that Kianna's knee hurt from the hard stone floor, that her neck ached from keeping it respectfully bowed. She felt an flare of anger but said nothing, moved not an inch, simply waited.

"Rise, my friend. I will witness your oaths to each other."

The Emperor smiled as the pair rose in unison.

Kianna kept her expression respectful, nothing more, as she turned to face Lord Vader. She had spent a great deal of time memorizing the pronunciation of the alien syllables, but this would be her first time repeating the oath as a whole. Her voice was steady as she recited that vows that gave herself into Darth Vader's keeping. Then it was Vader's turn to recite his oaths, his voice deep, resonant beneath the voder's distortion. As she listened, Kianna kept expecting to feel something, especially after all the emphasis on not reciting the oaths in full until this moment. Instead she felt empty, disappointed. The dark rumors and superstition surrounding the Sith Lord had proved nothing more than that, no magic bound her, no power transformed her. As she and her new husband crossed to a table off to the side, to sign a series of documents first in Sith, then in Aurebesh, she chided herself mentally for having entertained such thoughts. It was childish of her; surely being Lady Vader was transformation enough.

Lord Vader offered her a place on his arm again, and they followed the Emperor out to the main throne room waiting respectfully as the Emperor took his place on the dais. After making their obeisance to the Emperor, the newly wedded pair moved off to one side so guests could pay their respects. As much as Kianna hated crowds, she kept her expression serene, her smile vaguely pleasant. She would not risk disgracing her family or her new husband, even though being stuck in a formal receiving line struck her as a perverse kind of torture. She didn't want to be here; those congratulating her didn't mean it, and the whole thing was an exercise in deception and misery. The fact that her new husband probably hated this as much as she, would rather be out in the field, was scant comfort. There was no chance to talk with him about it. No moment where they were out of earshot of a listener.

Out of long training and a desire to keep her mind busy, she took mental notes on the people who paid their respects, matching names with histories and rumors, noting details of their dress and fleeting hints of expression. Normally after a formal event, she would write a report on her observations for her uncle, then they would go over it with a biting wit that they seldom dare display in public. A lump briefly formed in her throat at the thought that she would never again sit with her uncle over a predawn cup of kaf, chuckling over the folly of her fellow nobles.

Kianna forced the emotion down ruthlessly. Sentimentality had no place in the life before her. Her uncle would take care of himself and the family, using her new position however he could. Kianna had to focus on preserving her position and her husband's. This marriage had moved her into an entirely new circle of political intrigue. People who a week ago hadn't known her name were now smiling their insincere congratulations and no doubt some were plotting her downfall or even death. That was what she had to keep in mind--while pretending that her pretty little brain had nothing in it.

The evening seemed to drag on forever, though Kianna knew, at least on a factual level, this could not be the case. Her refusal to have a dinner reception, or eat at all during the festivities meant that the couple would be leaving before the hour grew too late. She refused to regret the decision, as there was no way she would be able to enjoy a meal while half the nobles were staring at her, and the other half pretending not to stare at Lord Vader not eating. If the Emperor was truly that concerned about them both, why had the suggestion even been made? She kept her expression unaltered, serene, when their departure was finally announced. She let Lord Vader guide her, matching his pace as a pathway cleared past the crowds of curious guests.

A customized shuttle waited outside, and Kianna wished she dared ask Lord Vader about it, but they were still on display. Not to guests this time, but an outer ring of palace guards and an inner one of stormtroopers who surrounded the shuttle and lined the pathway to it. It seemed like an excess of caution to her, but there was a subtle tension between the two groups. Kianna wondered if they were part of the 501st, and a faint but genuine smile came to her lips. It would make sense. Her husband led these men, and they would resent anyone but themselves guarding him on this day of all days.

To her relief, Vader led her to the copilot's seat, rather than settling her in the passenger's compartment in the back. As the shuttle's doors closed, Kianna began running a preflight check. Vader regarded her as he settled in the pilot's seat and began his own preflight.

"You will find nothing wrong with my shuttle." He sounded almost amused.

"But you do a preflight check anyway," Kianna pointed out. "Besides, it makes me feel better... while I love flying, I hate being flown."

Hate didn't begin to cover the situation, but Kianna's expression softened at the smooth lift of the shuttle under Vader's control.

"She's a wonderful craft..."

"Your parents died in a shuttle accident." Vader's voice was even.

"It was no accident."

Kianna left it at that, as this was not the time to drag up the past. Besides, the flight was very short, as Vader's palace was located adjacent to the Imperial palace. In truth, they could have walked the distance, but no doubt there were security considerations.

He seemed content to leave it at that, and a few moments later they were entering a landing bay. The sight of the Concerto a short distance away lifted her spirits. More than her estates on Caloria or apartment on Lianna, the Concerto was home. Vader descended from the shuttle first, then offered her a hand out. Kianna accepted gracefully, allowing him to settle her on his arm. The hangar was filled with stormtroopers at rigid attention, as well as other personnel in dark grey uniforms.

Kianna found herself grateful for her height and her childhood lessons in decorum. Darth Vader did not merely walk, he strode, obviously used to others having to keep up with him. Had she been any shorter, she would look vaguely ridiculous trying to match the pace he set. The palace servants were turned out, neatly lined against the walls. Unsurprisingly, many of them seemed to be security. Kianna wasn't sure if they had turned out to do her honor, or to get a look at the new mistress of the palace. No doubt they were worried about possible changes, concerned for their positions. While there would be some changes, Kianna preferred to keep them to a minimum. Vader would have a system in place, one that kept things running smoothly while he was away, and the last thing Kianna wanted to do was cause any disruptions that might inconvenience him. Even without Palpatine's warnings, rumors of Vader's temper were widespread.

Further into the palace, the corridors were empty of people, allowing her to get a better view of the hallways. To her surprise, there was little to see. Stark stone hallways devoid of art or decoration, neatly spaced doors kept neatly closed. The second most powerful man in the galaxy apparently lived like a monk. Finally they reached a hall somewhere near the core of the palace. Vader paused in front of a doorway.

"These are your quarters. Mine are at the far end of the hall. For medical reasons it would not be wise for us to share quarters."

The door slid open then, revealing a sitting room that was a welcome contrast to the stark corridors outside. The walls had been recovered in pale grey paneling, and a wool rug from the Concerto had been placed on the floor. The sight of the familiar silver-green vines against a pale blue background was reassuring, but it was the large drafting station on the far side of the room that drew Kianna. She scarcely realized she had left Vader's side to examine it. It was the finest she had seen, better even that the one in her Uncle's offices at SFS. She felt a lump form in her throat and blinked rapidly to clear her eyes. The one thing she had feared to lose with being married was her work. Vader's gift told her that not only did he not mind, he approved. She turned back to her new husband, reaching out to clasp his right hand in hers.

"Thank you."

Vader nodded once, and stood there for a moment, looking at her. Kianna met his gaze openly, without hesitation. Not being able to see his expression put her at a permanent disadvantage. A faint smile teased her lips. Vader probably preferred her at a disadvantage. Vader released her hand, taking a step back.

"I will join you later. A meal will arrive shortly."

With an about-face which made his cloak swirl around him, he turned and left.

Kianna remained in place for several seconds after the door closed behind him, then stepped out of her shoes with a faint sigh of relief. She began to pull the gold pins from her hair as she examined the room more closely. By the door was a discreet panel, which when opened proved to hold environmental controls. The lighting emanated from wall sconces covered with heavily frosted glass that diffused and softened the light. A table of silvery pleekwood was framed by a pair of matching chairs, their seats upholstered in silvery blue fabric. Kianna smiled to herself. Either Lord Vader had examined her ship to determine her tastes, or someone else had. The colors were subdued, the lines clean and flowing, very much what she would have chosen for herself.

Kianna had turned to investigate the next room, when the door to the hallway opened, and a protocol droid with a satin-like finish to its silver metal form entered.

"Greetings, Lady Vader. I am TC-13. Lord Vader has programmed me to assist you however you might wish." The droid's voice was a pleasant contralto, and while it looked like a standard protocol droid, its movements were more fluid. "I can bring you dinner if you wish, or if there is something else I may do for you?"

Kianna nodded, "If you will unfasten my necklace, please, and unlace my gown before bringing me dinner. I will prefer to dine in my rooms for the time being."

Kianna tried to imagine eating alone in a stark, cavernous dining room. No, eating in her chambers would be more pleasant, and less work for the staff.

"Of course, Lady Vader. I should have thought of it."

The droid's fingers were deft and impersonal as it undid the clasps and laces that Kianna was not entirely sure she could have undone on her own.

"I will return with dinner directly. Your clothing is waiting in your bedroom for you, and if there is anything else you require you have but to ask."

Kianna nodded, allowing the heavy weight of the gold and fire ruby collar to fall into her hands.

"Thank you."

She headed into the bedroom, leaving the droid to take care of things. Mentally she debated whether providing the droid was a courtesy from her new husband, or simply an attempt to provide her with a servant that wouldn't be harmed if she threw it over a balcony. A glance around her new bedroom proved the latter wouldn't be a concern, the room was without balconies or windows, as the sitting room had been. Cases were waiting to receive the jewellery she was wearing, and she stored it carefully with the care it deserved before removing and hanging up her gown.

About twenty minutes later she emerged from the 'fresher clad in a simple white nightgown of Dramassian with straight sleeves and v-cut neckline. She had had it custom made, as it seemed impossible to find a silk nightgown that was not embellished or embroidered, much to her annoyance. The matching robe over it was also unadorned, with graceful flowing lines. However the robe was made of Shell spider silk, and would deflect vibroblades, as well as weak laser and particle beam weapons. If it hadn't been so expensive, Kianna would have had her gowns made of it, instead of settling for a few cloaks and a robe.

When she returned to the sitting room, a light meal of grilled fish a top a bed of greens was waiting for her on the table, and next to it a pot of tea still steaming, though the protocol droid was no where to be seen. Kianna examined the area around the drafting station and found a datapad, taking it with her to the table. In between bites of food she started recording her recollections from the reception: Names, clothing, expressions, no detail that she could recall was too tiny to record. TC-13 came in and removed the remains of her meal, also bringing her a fresh pot of tea, then withdrew again.

Kianna sipped her tea slowly as she worked on her notes, glancing occasionally up at the door. Nerves, she told herself sternly, had to be conquered. But thankfully the headaches that had bothered her leading up to the wedding were absent. Proof enough, she believed, that she needed to spend more time meditating and less time brooding. With her pale complexion every blush and flush was painfully visible. As Lady Vader, her control in public would have to be perfect. Unlike her husband, she could not simply choke people with a thought for crossing her, so she would have to settle for seeming aloof and untouchable.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the door to the hallway opened and Vader strode in. Kianna rose to her feet, managing a smile for him.

"My husband."

"My wife."

The door closed behind him, and Vader opened the small environmental panel she had noted earlier beside the door and adjust the controls.

"It will take some time for the atmosphere in your rooms to adjust enough for me to remove my helmet. You may feel light-headed. Anything more than that, and you will report it to me at once."

It was not an admonition, not an order: it was a simple declaration. This would be the way.

"As you wish."

Obedience was a habit with her, as disobedience inevitably brought punishment and was best saved for when the cost was worth it. Since Vader had not made any move to come further into the room, she crossed to him and reached out to take his hands in hers. He didn't resist her grasp, but made no move to return it, his helmet tilting down to gaze on her.

"I am not in the habit of despoiling unwilling virgins."

Now, his voice was tight, angry, even through the resonance of the voder.

Kianna tilted her chin up definitely.

"I'm glad to hear it... But I never said I was unwilling." It took conscious effort to keep her breathing even and prevent a flush to her cheeks. "I am your wife... I know my duty and will not shirk it." She allowed herself a brief, challenging smile. "And there are too many people who believe our marriage is doomed to fail. I hate failing at anything."

When he didn't reply, Kianna released his hands, determinedly keeping the same smile on her face as she turned and walked towards the bedroom. The feeling of him watching her was like an itch between the shoulder blades, and she was almost half way to the bedroom before she heard his footsteps following her.

Like the sitting room, the bedroom had been panelled in pale grey though there were no rugs to soften the dark stone floor. The furniture was also of pleekwood; a vanity with a chair that matched those in the sitting room, matching dressers and armoire, a divan with a small table beside it... and the bed. It was larger than any bed she had slept in in her life, and as she sat on the edge her hand briefly clutched at the dark blue slubbed silk comforter, then stroked it smooth again. As Vader entered the room, she focused on keeping her breathing calm. This marriage may not have been her choice, but everything afterwards was. She was going to seize what fate had given her... no hesitations. No regrets.

"You're afraid." Vader's voice was neutral, no anger... but no compassion.

Kianna felt herself blush, and tried to refocus on her breathing. She really needed to work on her meditation more.

"I'm a virgin. I've never even kissed a man... I am afraid... that I will disappoint you some how... or look like a fool."

Vader reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"You look lovely."

Kianna's heart raced, and she felt light headed.

"The air..."

Vader paused, "Yes... I can remove my helmet now."

He reached up and undid a series of catches on his helmet. He removed the back part of the helmet first, then the face plate.

He was pale. Paler, perhaps, than her, which she would ordinarily have said was impossible. It was hard to judge his age, but he couldn't be that much older than her, less than a decade. His head had been shaved, probably for comfort beneath the helmet, but his eyebrows and eyelashes were a dark blonde. There were scars across the top of his skull, and his eyes... his eyes were blue, but they were haunted.

Waiting. Kianna reached out, gently caressing his cheek, and smiled as she asked almost shyly, "You... don't mind if I touch you, do you?"

Vader laughed, and the haunted look vanished from his eyes to be replaced with something darker, almost hungry.

"Not only do I not mind... I think I shall insist on it."

He started to remove the armor, which seemed to be a mixture of both defense and life support. His arms were cybernetic starting from above the elbows, and his chest and shoulders were heavily scarred. Kianna ran a hand gently over his shoulder, across his chest, her fingers occasionally brushing against the edges of the scars.

"You are... not repelled. Nor do you pity me...." His tone was questioning, probing.

Kianna smiled, "You're a warrior... I admire that. And if you've suffered more than most, you've also accomplished more then most. No... I don't pity you." She shook her head, "I'm... feeling lightheaded... I'm sorry if I'm babbling... The air is making me feel ... odd." It wasn't just the air, there was something about the way he was looking at her, the hunger in his eyes.

"I can stop you from babbling...."

He grasped her firmly by her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her. His lips were firm and dry, possessive, demanding. A soft whimper escaped Kianna's throat as she felt the tension in her body dissolve, melting into something hot and deliciously liquid. His tongue probed at her lips, parting them. Kianna trembled and opened her mouth to his as she pressed closer against him, her fingers tracing up his neck, following the strong line of his jaw. Vader's hands moved to her shoulders and she was forced to stop her explorations as he slid the robe off of her shoulders and away from her body. Her thoughts scattered in all directions as Vader caressed her through the silk of her nightgown, the touch of his hands deliciously echoing the stroke of his tongue against hers.

The kiss broke, leaving Kianna feeling dazed, breathless. A soft, surprised laugh escaped her, and she smiled into Vader's eyes.

"I think I'm feeling a good deal more than lightheaded... but I don't think it's the air."

A deep amused chuckle came from Vader's throat, as his eyes roamed over her. His expression was hungry, burning; Kianna could almost feel it trailing across her skin. Impatient fingers plucked at her gown.

"Remove this... I wish to see all of you."

Kianna smiled teasingly, "Ah, but I'd rather have another kiss..."

She stood and slid out of the gown, however, letting it fall into a puddle of white silk on the floor, and then stepped out of the silk panties she had worn for the occasion. A blush came not only to her face, it ran all the way down to between her breasts.

Softly, embarrassedly, she murmured, "I'm too tall, too thin..."

Too pale. Too different to be pretty...

A sharp tug from Vader pulled her back to sit on the bed, as in a growling, amused tone he said, "I will not tolerate insults to my wife."

Kianna looked up at him, surprised to have her own words thrown back at her, and Vader claimed her mouth again almost violently. Kianna gasped against his lips, and reached up to grasp his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. Vader himself seemed immovable, a rock she had crashed against, any thoughts or reason smashed out of her skull by the feeling of his lips on hers, his tongue invading her mouth. His hands traced needy, demanding patterns across her bare skin, working his way up across her stomach to her breasts. Kianna tried to mimic him, to return his caresses, but she was far too distracted.

His hands found her breasts and it was like flames licked at her body. She was burning up from inside. His mouth left hers and a small, needing moan escaped her lips to become a gasp as he kissed his way down her throat. The soft touch of his lips alternated with flicks of his tongue and tiny, sharp nips of his teeth. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing the nipples into tight, aching peaks. His mouth moved lower, replacing his thumb on her left breast, tongue swirling around the nipple until she clutched at him, her nails digging into his shoulders in reaction. The need in her was sharp, painful, terrifying. She was losing herself, losing all control, and what was worse was she didn't care, couldn't stop herself. She wouldn't stop him even if she could.

Vader pulled away from her breast, releasing her, and a soft heartbroken cry escaped Kianna's lips. Vader smiled at her, a look of wicked possession as he lifted her up to lay her out on the bed.

"There will be some pain," he warned as he removed his pants and codpiece.

His legs were cybernetic from just above the knee, the matte black prosthetics contrasting shockingly with his white skin. But that wasn't what made Kianna stare. He was... very male, very erect, and she couldn't prevent herself from blushing again.

Then his body was covering hers, imprisoning her beneath his greater weight. His knee parted her legs, and a small protesting noise escaped Kianna's throat. Vader's mouth closed on her breast again, and she gasped as rational thought fled. Her hands clenched the cool silk of the coverlet as he pressed urgently against her. Each pull of his mouth sent a rush of liquid fire through her veins, allowing him to press a little deeper into her, until her body offered innocent resistance.

Vader raised his head, his eyes burning into hers as Kianna gasped for breath. Without warning he thrust into her, a long, hard stroke that sent a surge of white-hot pain and pleasure through her. A wild cry escaped her lips, then Vader's mouth was on hers, devouring the sound of her pleasure, her pain. One hand tangled in her hair holding her there, trapping her, as his hips pulled slowly back and thrust in again. Her body trembled, clenched around him, then relaxed as the long, slow strokes continued. Her body started to move with his, her back arching as she strained shamelessly for something she could feel just out of reach. Her soft, hungry cries were smothered by his lips as the pace quickened. She clung to him, her hands fitfully caressing his neck and back, making no distinction between whole skin and scarred. She felt as though she was on the edge of a cliff, and he was her only rock, her only safety.

Then something inside her shattered and colors, sable and crimson, exploded behind her eyes. Pleasure burned through her, consumed her, until there was nothing left but a wild cry against his lips and a shuddering convulsion that roared on and on through every limb. She felt him stiffen, then erupt inside her, a molten heat that mingled with her own. He collapsed on top of her, limbs entwined. Small twitches and shudders ran through them both, each one sending a tiny aftershock of pleasure through Kianna. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a tired, blissful smile crossing her expression.

She felt Vader stir, lifting himself up from her. Kianna opened her eyes, the lazy, sated smile still on her lips. For a moment, just for a moment, there was an expression on his face that she could not name. Tender, yet fiercely possessive, it lacked his early desperate hunger, but Kianna could still feel it devouring her. She wanted it to devour her, to lose herself in what, for those few seconds, she saw there. Then he was pushing himself up out of the bed, standing and putting on his armor.

"Vader?" Her tone was hesitant, questioning.

But he made no reply, no sound, did not even look her way. Kianna pulled the bedsheets about herself, and watched him dress. The pleasure was fading, leaving her feeling lost, hollow, empty.

"My lord husband?"

He didn't answer. In less time than she would have expected, he was back in his armor and leaving the room. He never even looked her direction.

Kianna turned her face to the wall and felt hot tears on her cheeks. There was a tight feeling in her chest as she wondered for the first time since her parents died, if maybe duty alone was not enough.

Part 2

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