Revered and Reviled

"Lord Malak has returned, my Lord."
Revan nodded to the guard, and waved him away in dismissal.
The guard knelt respectfully, then left the bridge. He walked back to the duty room, grinning.
"What?" asked another guard.
"We'll have to find a new way to get rid of people we don’t like. Malak's back, so sending them to annoy Revan won't work anymore."
The guards laughed. "Remember the look on Verrdyk's face when we told him go tell Revan that we'd lost contact with Malak's ship?"
"He screamed for hours!"
"Oh, don't exaggerate. It was only a few minutes."
"Very long, loud, minutes, yes."
"I take it the Sith Lord has been in a bad temper lately," said Malak quietly.
The guards whirled around, and Malak could practically taste their terror. "Lord Malak! We… er… we meant no disrespect!"
"They say familiarity breeds contempt," Malak mused. "Perhaps I should arrange for you to become more familiar with some of the Sith Lord's amusements?"
The guards somehow became paler than they had been, which was particularly odd to see on the Twi'lek guard. "Please, my Lord… we are loyal servants of the Sith!"
"You are slaves, not servants. Do not presume to think otherwise." Malak turned away and walked to the bridge.
The main bridge of the Misericordia was a small command center filled with viewscreens and databanks, unlike the large, heavily populated rooms of most cruisers in this class. Revan preferred to be alone, surrounded with information, and spent most of her time planning battles rather than managing the crew. The one thing Revan wished she could do was make the bridge of her flagship soundproof, but that had proved impossible. It unfortunately limited her in certain situations, like this one. They were alone, but there was a very high probability of being overheard, or worse, interrupted. Revan, standing in front of the viewport, heard the door open, and knew that he was there, but didn't turn.
Malak knelt behind her. "The mission was a success, Master. All has turned out as you commanded. I hope that you are pleased."
She held out her hand, still without speaking, and he handed her the datapads with his reports. "You have been gone a long time, my student."
"The Jedi were very troublesome, Master," Malak snarled. "Your teachings have been invaluable to me. I brought some back as new recruits, and one, as a present."
Revan turned to him, glanced over the datapads. "You found nothing else of interest in your travels, my student?"
Malak tried not to smile. "I discarded some useless baggage from the past, Master, but nothing of importance happened. I do apologize for shutting you out, Master. The situation was… not of my choosing."
"And you do not intend to share this memory with me?"
"I would prefer not to, Master, but if you insist, then of course I will." Malak was calm and quiet. If she really wanted to know what had happened, she would find out. It all depended on whether her astonishingly potent sense of jealousy would overcome her trust of him.
Revan took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and fight down the rush of insane possessiveness that always overtook her when it came to Malak's past infidelities. Why should she care about some tawdry slave that had once caught his eye? He was here, now, kneeling patiently and submissively before her, hungering for her touch, praying for her approval. The very fact that he was here was proof that she was still important to him.
"May I ask a boon, Master?"
"If you wish," said Revan. "I do not promise to grant it."
Malak nodded. "Please remove the mask, Master. I have waited for days to see your face again."
Revan shuddered. Suddenly, she did not want to be a Sith Lord anymore. She wanted to be a woman, alone with her lover. Perhaps at a ball, where she would remove the mask, and he could kiss away the traces of her tears, assuage her fury with apologies and promises, and ease her passion with a night of wild lovemaking.
But she was not a woman. She was the Dark Lord of the Sith, and Malak was her apprentice.
"Not yet, my student," she said softly. Try as she might, she could not keep a slight edge out of her voice, a slight trembling. "You will come to me tonight, when we dock at Behant." Revan turned away again, began reading the datapads more thoroughly. "Try not to anger me before then. You may go."
Malak did not move for a moment. "If not the mask, Master, may I at least kiss your feet before I go?"
Revan smiled beneath the mask, turned back, extended her foot to him. "Someone is abusing my weaknesses," she said sweetly, and leaned against the desk for support.
He slipped off one of her shoes, amused that she was wearing heels on the bridge instead of the sensible boots that she normally wore. "I assure you, Master, I have no idea what you are talking about." He pulled off the silk stocking covering her tiny foot. "But I admit that it is quite a stroke of fortune that you are not wearing heavy boots."
"Coincidence."
"The Force works in mysterious ways." He bent his head down, kissed the arch of her perfectly shaped foot, kissed his way down to her toes, each nail painted a different bright color. His hands, large and warm, cradled her foot as he caressed it with his lips and his tongue.
Revan shuddered, in pleasure this time, as Malak kissed the sole of her foot, then her ankle, and began working his way up her lower leg. She gasped when she felt his lips, warm and insistent, on the sensitive skin of her knee. "That's not my foot, Malak."
"Your pardon, Master," he said in mock surprise. "My hand must have slipped."
"Go." Her voice was pleased now, not tense and angry as she had been before.
Malak knew better than to leave Revan when she was angry, and always found a way to improve her mood, restore her balance before he left. He replaced her stocking after giving her toes one last kiss, and then put her shoe back on for her. "You do have the most adorable toes, Master."
"Go, I have work to do."
Malak rose with a low chuckle, and left Revan alone on the bridge. He wiped his face on his sleeve before stopping in the guardroom again. "How many did you sacrifice to Revan's wrath while I was gone?"
"Four, my lord."
And she says I lack control, Malak mused to himself. He went to his quarters to prepare. Malak laughed to himself. The rooms that he used as his quarters didn't even have a bed. He only used it to store weapons and armor, and occasionally to study in silence when he needed a rest from Revan.
Malak sighed. Lately, he had needed more of a rest from her than ever. But when the chance came for a permanent break, he had found that he couldn't do it. He wanted Revan, he craved her. She was as necessary to him as the air he breathed. Life without her would be worthless, a hollow shell of existence. His memory flashed back to their first kiss, the snowball fight, and he smiled. He loved Revan, and wished that he could prove it to her once and for all, that she didn't need to be jealous of anyone, that she was the only woman he loved.
The door chimed, announcing a servant.
Malak turned. "Yes?"
"From Lord Revan, my Lord." The servants carried in a trunk and set it down on the floor, then bowed and left the room.
Malak stared curiously at the trunk, then opened it. "Clothes?" He lifted out the unfamiliar garments, heavy with embroidery and studded with jewels. A long, tightly tailored jacket, made of some luxuriously soft material, with a high stiff collar and literally covered with gold and various gems, sewn on in a curving pattern with gold and silver thread. He touched the thread. It was actually made of the precious metals, spun to a thin, pliable filament. A white shirt of some incredibly soft and smooth fabric, a vest of golden brocade with diamond buttons. Pants covered in golden embroidery and encrusted with tiny blue stones sparkling along the sides. The boots were made of leather. Actual leather, from dead animals, and lined with fur. Behant was another ice planet, he suddenly remembered. At the bottom of the trunk was a heavy cloak, made of soft black fur, with a deep hood.
He smiled. Revan's taste was impeccable, but this was the first time she had ever used it on him. Malak shook his head in wonder, and let his personal servant dress him. Clearly, Revan had already sent instructions on how to wear the unfamiliar garb. When he was fully clothed, Malak stood before the mirror and grinned at his reflection. He looked magnificent, even to his own eyes. The suit was comfortable and fit perfectly, cleverly cut to reveal the breadth of his chest and the strength of his body. The cloak was heavy and warm, and made him wonder what she had in mind.
A servant appeared to see if he was ready. Malak nodded, and the servant led him down to Revan's private shuttle. Revan had the Star Forge under her complete control, and was the only one who could make it generate things that weren't battleships or combat droids, things like the excessive luxury of her private shuttle. Malak sank back into the thick cushions, and put his feet up on the fur-lined stool. A servant brought him a sparkling drink. He sipped it carefully. Some of Revan's wines were much too strong for him, but this one was light and a little sweet. Malak leaned back and sipped idly at his drink in sybaritic comfort.
The shuttle landed on the planet, and Malak stepped out to the icy wind, glad for the heavy cloak. He pulled up the hood to keep the wind out of his eyes, and looked around. A servant led him to a strange vehicle, an elegant box resting on elaborately shaped metal bars rather than wheels or hovering. While he watched, servants brought out three very large beasts, and harnessed them to the vehicle. He realized that the slightly raised part in the front must be for a driver. The harnesses that connected the animals to the vehicle were covered with tiny silver bells that rang sweetly with every movement. A thick cloth was laid over the backs of the animals, down to the snow.
Malak heard a strange, rhythmic noise, and looked out into the snow. One of the animals, not as large as the ones in harness, was approaching. Perched on its back, wrapped in white furs, was a form that he knew to be Revan. He could barely make her out, until she pushed back her hood and smiled at him as she drew closer. She was flushed and warm from some exertion.
"You're here!" she said joyfully. She rode up to him, drew the beast to a standstill. She held out a hand, and he pulled her down into his arms. He could tell she was wearing a gown of some sort beneath her furs, but he couldn't see anything of it. Revan kissed his cheek, and then suddenly, wrapped her arms around him, kissing him wildly and passionately. Her eyes seemed to glitter with some unknown excitement. "I was just thinking of you," she said sweetly.
Servants led the animal she had been riding away, and brought out heavy rugs. Another servant brought out a new pair of boots for her, and took away the ones she had been wearing. Malak noted that they were black and soaking wet, but the new ones were white and matched the wrap she was wearing.
"Well, Malak, would you like to play a game?" Revan asked with a curious smile. Her eyes sparkled, as she watched him, drinking in the sight of her lover.
"A game, Master?"
She frowned slightly at that. "It's called, Alek and Anastasia have a nice dinner." She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, almost shyly. "Not Master. Not tonight."
Malak smiled. "I think I would like that, very much." He held out his hand to her, and she took it in hers, and smiled at him.
Revan laughed, a little nervously, then more joyously. "Come!" She ran to the vehicle, and jumped in, gracefully and quickly. Malak followed and sat beside her. Servants ran up, and covered them with the rugs, and the driver took his place. Revan nodded to the driver, and they took off.
Malak almost jumped in surprise at their speed. The driver cracked a whip to spur the beasts on, never actually hitting them. The noise of the whip and the harness bells were like parts of a song, and underneath it all, the sound of the snow beneath the runners. Their speed made the snow flit away from them, and the heavy rugs and their fur cloaks kept out the worst of the cold. He pulled Revan to him, and she snuggled happily into his arms. He looked down at her, wondering if it was too cold for a kiss. She looked up at the same time, smiling, and pulled him into a breathtaking kiss that drove away all thoughts of the cold.
And yet, under the fire, under her glitter, he could sense the darkness in her soul, curled up and waiting.
"What were you doing earlier?" he asked.
She smiled sweetly. "Riding! I should teach you, but you'll never become a really good rider. You're too big!" She said it as a compliment, hungrily, greedily, devouring him with her eyes. She reached up and kissed him again, fiery with barely hidden desire, bruising his lips with her passion. Revan pulled away, sighed happily, and rested her head against his chest.
Malak wrapped his arms around her, and held her close to him as they raced across the snow. They stopped outside a building, and servants helped them down from the vehicle. Malak looked it over. It appeared to be a sort of temple, and the Mandalorians that had been hiding on Behant had never been able to open the main doors, and had just camped outside for shelter. There was no trace of them now. The temple had been cleaned, restored, regilded. Revan took his hand, and led him inside, followed by patiently waiting servants.
He watched as Revan's furs were pulled away, to reveal her gown. The outer robe was made of some metallic material that sparkled like gold – he was certain that it was actually gold. The dress reached to the floor, almost completely concealing her tiny feet, the hem weighed down with a wide border of tiny pearls and precious gems, as were the sleeves. Beneath the outer robe, was an elegant white gown cut close to her body, that seemed to whisper softly with every movement, and perfectly showed off her shapely curves. It too was bedecked with gems, and heavily embroidered with gold and silver thread.
"You are beautiful," he whispered softly.
For some reason, she hadn't been expecting the words, and blushed suddenly. Revan laughed nervously, and held out her hands to him. "Come, let us eat."
It had been years since they had sat down together to dine, alone. Long years, filled with darkness and war. Revan had ordered all their favorite foods, and Malak smiled to see everything from the dishes that he had loved as a child on his homeworld to a snack from an intergalactic bazaar that they had shared once on a spectacular summer night. They ate, reminisced, laughed, while soft-footed servants came and went in silence, clearing away dishes and bringing new ones, filling their cups with sparkling wines and sweet liquors.
At last they rose from the table, and Revan led him to a large room, with comfortable recliners beneath a huge window that opened out to a hothouse garden beneath the stars. Malak grinned, and sat down on the first recliner, watching Revan as she refilled her glass.
"Would you like another drink?" she asked.
Malak shook his head and set down the glass that he was holding. "Come here, Anastasia. Come sit with me."
She looked down, a sudden flush creeping up her face. "In a moment," she sipped at her wine, nervous and uncertain. "I want to talk to you, and if I sit next to you, I'll forget everything that I wanted to ask."
"Would that really be so bad?" he smiled.
Revan sighed. "I… I want to.…" She almost turned in frustration and threw the glass at the wall, but forced herself to be still and quiet. "Alek, I am not used to sharing affection. I was treated as a goddess from the day I was born until I was handed over to the Jedi. And the Jedi are supposed to be above things like love and jealousy. But I'm not, Alek! I'm not! I can't – "
Malak surged to his feet and walked to the window, his shoulders stiff and anger showing in every line of his body. "You already knew about it, and you know it's over. Why are you bringing it up now?"
"You're mad at me for spying on you," she said, choking back a furious sob. "What was I supposed to do? Sit at home and wait patiently for your attentions?"
Malak laughed harshly to himself, then turned to face her. "I just don't understand why it matters to you at all. Do you seriously think I would care more for – well, anyone – do you really think that anyone in the universe is more important to me than you are?"
"Well, if they're not important, then why?" She choked back a sob. "Why, Alek, why? Is it me, am I –"
"No, Anastasia, it's not you," he sighed. "It was foolish, a mistake. I didn't think it would upset you so much. You must know that you're the only person that matters to me."
"It's hard to know something like that when you're watching your lover fuck some slave girl and listening to him say that he loves her." Her rage made her say the words, and she regretted them the instant they escaped.
Malak didn't say anything for a moment, but walked back to the couch and carefully sat down, trying to keep his fury under control. "As I said," his voice was tight with anger, "it was a mistake. I do not love her, and I shouldn't have said it. I didn't mean to, and now I'm in trouble again for saying things I didn't mean to say." He closed his eyes, trying to focus and pick his words carefully. "She was - I've known her for a long time."
Revan choked back another angry, jealous sob. "She's the one the Mandalorians would have tortured, if you hadn't been so noble and brave."
"Yes." Malak looked down at the floor, at Revan's tiny feet, encased in glittering silver shoes, barely visible beneath her dress as she paced quickly up and down the room. "Yes, she was. You knew that, and you still.... Why now, why did you bring it up tonight?" He gestured, taking in their clothes, the entire room. "Why, after all this?"
"Why?" her voice shook slightly. "Because this is all I have! I have wealth, I have power, and all of it means nothing, nothing! Because all of it is nothing without you!" She realized that she was screaming, tried to calm herself. Malak stood, rushed over to her, but she held out her hands to keep him away. "No! Let me finish!"
Malak ignored her protests, and pulled her into his arms, and she collapsed against him, sobbing furiously. "Anastasia," he said gently, treasuring the sound of her name. "You don't understand. When I said it, I was thinking of you. That's why I left her. That's why I came back, and that's why I'm staying. I love you, and I can't live without you. You are everything to me. Look at me," he urged. She looked up at him, her face wet with tears and amazingly beautiful in her wild grief. He whispered her name again, then kissed her again and again.
Finally she succeeded in pushing him away, but she still stood in his arms, cradled in his strength. A few crystal tears still rolled her cheek but the tempest was over. She laughed shakily. "Did you... did you say my name? If you were thinking of me...."
Malak groaned. "Almost."
"I should have kept watching," she laughed softly, through her tears. "I would have enjoyed seeing that. You deserved it!" She struck him playfully on the chest.
"I know," he said wryly. "I'm sorry, Anastasia. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said seriously. "I'm sorry."
Revan looked up at him again, her tear-filled blue eyes wide and soft, nervous and yet thrilled by the passion in his voice. He had said the words, he had come back to her, and though she still wanted more, this was enough. She flung her arms around his neck, pulled him to her for a wild kiss, heard herself whispering the name she had given him, "My Alek, mine!"
He laughed, pleased at her possessiveness - it was easier to take than her fury. He lifted her in his arms, still kissing her, and walked to a small door that he had noticed a few moments earlier. As he suspected, it led to a bedroom. Revan always planned for all possibilities.
Malak lay down on the bed with her in his arms, ran his hands over her body, lost himself in the sensual feel of the woven gold, warm from her body, the slick silk of her gown under his hands. "Beautiful Anastasia," he murmured against her silken hair, and kissed her neck. Her hands dig into his clothes, and she kissed his cheek, his eyes, his brow, whispering his name again and again. The heavy golden overdress fell away and slid to the floor, as his hands moved over her body. His jacket followed, and she undid the jeweled buttons at his throat, exposing his bare chest to her warm, loving hands. She kissed the muscles there, making him growl with barely subdued passion.
"There is no one else in the galaxy that makes me feel like this, Alek. Only you!" Revan bent her head to his chest, kissed the warm pulse at his throat. "The thought of losing you… I would go mad without you. I don't know what I would do."
"It will never happen, Anastasia. I will never leave you," he vowed. He pulled her to him, pressed his lips against hers, "Never." Malak ran his hands along the back of her dress, found the fastenings there and undid them, one by one, so that the silken gown slid away. Revan sat up, and the dress fell away to reveal the final layer of underclothes, barely covering her body in frothy white and gold lace. Malak's eyes widened at the sight, and he sat up slightly to get a better look.
Revan laughed lightly. "I guess you approve." A seductive smile played around her lips, and she reached up, pulling out the diamond-studded pins keeping her hair in place, and her golden hair fell in soft waves down her back and over her shapely breasts.
Malak rose to a sitting position, and pulled her back to him. "You're so beautiful," he whispered hoarsely, his voice roughened with passion, and kissed her lips, her hair, then her breasts, marveling at the softness of her. Revan wrapped her arms around Malak, rejoicing in her power over him. He ran his tongue over her barely covered breasts, making her gasp, then pulled at the laces so that he could slide his hand beneath the tiny strip of cloth covering the center of her softness. He worked a finger inside her while he continued to kiss her breasts, her body, anywhere his lips could reach. She was wet and slick, and moaned hungrily at his touch.
She clutched at him, digging her nails into his shoulders as she worked herself on his hand. Malak pulled his hand out, and quickly licked his fingers clean. She laughed, then helped him pull off his jacket and shirt. Revan caught his head in her hands, and pulled him to her for another wild kiss, whispering his name in wild passion. "I want you, Alek! I missed you so much," she whispered as she kissed him.
Malak looked at her again, her eyes dark with hunger, her face flushed. He undid the laces and fastenings on her clothes, worked off his own clothes so that they were both naked together. "I do like the look," he murmured, "but I would rather touch your skin." He kissed her shoulders, and she opened herself to him as she kissed his face, caressed his arms. He would have entered her slowly, teasing, but she was having none of it and took him inside her swiftly, screaming her satisfaction against his skin.
He let his passion rule him then, thrusting into her powerfully as she dug her nails into him, wrapped her legs around his waist. She was hot and wet, more than a match for his driving passion.
Revan clung to him hungrily, begging Malak for more with every movement of her body. She wanted to drown in this mad passion, this utter belonging. But it was never enough, she always wanted more, and she couldn't tell if she was lacking, or he was. All she knew was that she wanted him, she wanted this, imperfect as it was. Someday, she promised herself, she would figure out what was missing. But for today, she had Malak, all of him, all for herself. She gasped, then screamed in ecstasy beneath him, holding him close before she sank back into the bed, dripping wet and spent from her passionate hunger.
Panting, Malak kissed her neck, then her breasts, then spread her legs so he could taste her. She moaned in pleasure as his tongue lapped over swollen wetness, gently caressing her. She shook, gasping softly, and her entire body quivered as he licked her clean, inside and out. With a soft, helpless shudder, Revan faded into unconsciousness.
Malak rolled out of the bed, stood up. Looked down at Revan as she slept, her face peaceful and sweet. Shielding himself from the touch of her mind, he looked out at the stars, and wondered what would have happened if he had been a more selfish man. If he had been fool enough to take the few moments of love that the other woman had offered, instead of sacrificing himself again – staying with Revan, standing between her, her power, her ambition – between Revan and the entire universe. He had been telling the truth, in a way. Just enough to allay Revan's madness. He did love her, and he would never leave her.
Malak sank down to the floor, and sighed. Sometimes, the Force asked too much.
"What are you thinking of?" she asked suddenly.
Malak smiled. She woke quickly when she wanted to. He wondered how much of his emotions she had picked up beyond the barrier in his mind. "I was wondering what your alternate plan was. How you were going to kill me, if I failed you."
She sat up, and pulled herself over to the side of the bed so that she could see him. "If you had lied to me," she said softly, "I would have left you here to die. Otherwise, I would have let you fight for your life."
Malak laughed in genuine amusement, disarming her suspicion. "With what?"
She laughed as well, a slight edge of cruelty in her voice that she couldn't – or didn't – hide. She pointed to the heavy golden overdress, and it rose from the floor at her mental command. She pulled it open, to reveal two inner pockets, each holding a lightsaber. His, that he had left so confidently in his room before going to meet her, and one of hers.
"Just the main one? Your sense of fairness shames me," he grinned and kissed her cheek. "I don't think I would have done as much."
Revan laughed again, sweetly this time. "Are you done moping?"
"Mostly. Are you done being angry?"
She kissed him, and smiled hungrily at him. "Come back to bed." She held out her hand to him, and drew his body over hers with a pleased sigh.

Malak was gone again, another recruiting mission. Revan's guards were trying to avoid her wrath and ill-temper, but Revan was in no mood for their games.
"I requested a file an hour ago," said Revan tightly into the communicator. "Where is it?"
"Your pardon, Lord Revan. We are having, er, some trouble with the data. In the file."
"Bring it here," she said coldly. "Now."
"Yes, Lord Revan," said the guard sadly. In a few short moments, he brought the recording to her, and waited to be dismissed. Or killed, which was much more likely, when she became aware of the contents of the recording.
Revan rewound it, and watched the last few seconds. She gasped, a small cry, half pain and half rage. "You watched this."
The guard swallowed nervously. "Yes, My Lord."
"You were not going to give this to me," she said flatly.
"My Lord, we considered it, but we thought that it would be best for you to know the truth."
She made another small, pained sound. "Go, get out of here."
The guard fled before she could change her mind. Revan pulled off the mask, and rewound the recording to the beginning.
The girl, beautiful despite the marks on her face defining her as a slave – or perhaps because of them. Slim, soft, curved, more generous in shape than Revan, less muscled. Her eyes, wide, innocent, and humble. Pleading with him, kissing him.
Revan touched her lips in disgust, tried to rub away the taste on her lips.
"It's not too late, is it? Please, don't leave me, don't go to her! I can't follow you there, I won't!"
Revan's breast heaved, trembling with fury as she watched the girl.
"Please, Alek, before you leave me forever, please, one last time."
Revan screamed in pain and rage. "No! No, how could he?"
She listened to him explain, convincing her to go back and stay with her lover. Of course, he said this after he had taken her, there on the floor, in the cabin of his ship. The girl tried one more time to convince him to stay with her, offered herself up again, and he took her again, standing against the wall, and then refused and sent her away.
Revan sank to her knees, crushed by the pain. She put her hands to her head and screamed out her suffering.
He had lied to her, and she had… no, she hadn't believed him. If she had really believed him, she wouldn't have placed a new recording device on his ship before he left. But she still couldn't believe that he had left her and run right to his lover.
"Why?" Revan sobbed. "Why? What have I done?" She covered her face with her hands and gave in to her misery, sobbing wildly and screaming.
The cornerstone of her wretchedness? That she still loved him, that she still wanted him. The crippling knowledge that she always would love him, want him. But there was a limit to how much suffering she could endure.