Note 1: Takes place right before the fight with Vaylin in Chapter 8 of KOTET.
Note 2: A part of “one-word prompts” project.
The crack of Vette’s neck being broken was one of the worst sounds Theron ever heard in his life. He glanced at Nayel, and the fury on the Sith face was unmistakable.
The Dark Lord slowly rose to his feet, and drew his lightsaber, glaring at Vaylin. Theron stood by his side, his own blaster pointed at her chest. He knew he didn’t have to say anything; this was sufficient to let Nayel know he had his back and support.
Being with Nayel had been a wild ride. Sometimes incredibly frustrating, sometimes infuriating, but most of the time gratifying. He grew to appreciate the Sith’ ‘channelling emotions’ for feeding their power in the Force, if not for that power to be used to hurt. He always tried to gently steer Nayel’s attention to help rather than harm, but in moments like this one he was not going to stop his love from doing mortal harm to the Eternal Empress. Removing her from the galaxy’s face was a good thing, a necessary evil to protect everyone she was capable of harming.
His implants tingled slightly. Quiet sizzling he could hear confirmed what he knew: finger’s of Nayel’s hand – the one that wasn’t squeezing his lightsaber’s hilt – were enveloped by tiny purple electrical discharges.
His last girlfriend, Lammya, would probably go all over Vaylin for what she’d just done. Verbally. It’s hard to speech someone to death, even if the Jedi – and that particular trooper – tried hard to make it a thing. Nayel was more “hands-on and eliminate”. A man of action, while words were used to mock and drown the opponent in sarcasm before their demise. Sometimes Theron wondered how it reflected on him to be attracted to the Sith and find appreciation in what he had been raised to believe was absolutely abhorrent and should be wiped out from the galaxy. It was hard to resist someone who was ready to take matters in his own hands, and do what was necessary to be done without moral preaching. Theron felt drawn to this powerful man, to his confidence, somewhat even to the darkness that dwelt within him. And – let’s be honest – the elegant aesthetics of Nayel’s powers were hard to ignore. The lightening was deadly and dangerous, if you were on the receiving end, and Theron did all in his power to limit collateral damage and tame Nayel’s appetite for fear in others and their blood; but at the same time the Dark Lord looked gloriously wonderful while dealing it…
And Theron liked how it made his implants tingle.
Once his pleasure had to be too obviously painted on his face, because Nayel hadn’t stopped badgering him about it until he’d revealed the reason. Since then, tingling and gentle lightening play had become a regular part of their intimate moments.
The sound of Attira’s lightsabers being activated brought Theron back to the present. Vaylin has minutes of life left. Hopefully she wouldn’t kill anyone before she expired.
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