Private Of Lust & Power

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mercy //:
//: Attire //:

Throneworld, a place where Mercy had parked herself to rule with her eldritch fist. The thought made Quinn roll her eyes as lately everything the Knave did irritated her to no end. Every little thing, down to taking a breath, made Quinn's stomach twist in ways she wished it didn't. The feelings were too similar, too close to how she felt before leaving for the academy.

As the Echani shuttle settled into port, Quinn gathered up the dark robes. If the visit had any other meaning or had another purpose, she wouldn't look so official. Remembering the comment about her attire back at the club made the girl's pale ears redden, flush from the predatory gaze. The attention, she wanted all of it and hated having to share it.

Quinn moved quietly as she was guided towards where Mercy would be waiting. As she walked, her eyes would look towards the large windows, showing space and the planet below. It seemed Mercy was too good to rule just the essential core world; she needed to loom over it like a god.

"Typical," she murmured to herself, remembering the conversations they had shared and the teasing she received. Quinn had always wanted to rule, to be someone to lead a people. Mercy, on the other hand, seemed to have no interest, often poking fun at the younger Echani. And yet, even after asking for the woman's help, she had become Empress, and Quinn was left wanting.

The thought alone infuriated her.

Arriving at where she assumed Mercy would be waiting, the graspborn… or guards would part, leaving her to walk through the opening doors. It was silent for the most part, in such a way Quinn wasn't used to when around Mercy. Perhaps they had grown differently, Mercy finally finding herself useful as a leader or warlord… as she often preferred to be called.

As she walked, Quinn remembered fondly (which also annoyed her) the quiet moments they had shared, even the last time she had seen Mercy before leaving for the academy.

Mercy knew everything about her; if she remembered it was another story.

The mountain of a woman had been a figure in her life for as long as Quinn could remember, a forever-lasting symbol of her mother's frustration and quiet longing for a semblance of attention.

Quinn hated it, but she also reveled in it.

"Surprised, I was actually able to find you alone." Quinn frowned, scolding herself as she didn't want to sound as annoyed as she felt. Even if she tried to hide it. Mercy could read body language to the smallest twitch of a muscle. She was as much of an Echani as Quinn was.

"I'm mad at you, I hope you know that. You're acting just like Ashin, you —"

Remembering her manners, a lesson the Knave had reminded her of. In proper reverence, the Echani bowed her head, cursing under her breath and fighting back whatever tears clung to the ends of her lashes.

They didn't fall; they would linger, but never fall.

"Congratulations on your conquering of the Core…"

 

[Mercy]

Quinn Varanin

Mercy was lounging on the huge Throne that dominated the centerfold of the chambers.

Legs swung over one arm, resting on the other, while smoking from her pipe and watching the rings escaping her mouth float upwards to the ceiling one by one.

She was becoming quite good at it.

And her body was slowly acclimatizing to the mixture of herbs that deadened the connection to the Force. People might have thought it foolish, when she first started smoking those herbs, but Mercy knew her own body best. She had had full confidence that with enough time... practice... she'd be able to grow resistant to those effects.

And now the heavy fog that dampened the Force was becoming more of a whisper.

"Surprised, I was actually able to find you alone." "I'm mad at you, I hope you know that. You're acting just like Ashin, you —"

Those eyes flicked towards Quinn at that name in the end.

Hungry eyes, that consumed everything in sight, and now they looked so pleased at the mere comparison.

"Thank you." She drawled lazily, even as the Sith Lord watched Quinn bow for her. That pleased her also. "But why are you mad, darling... shouldn't you be happy for me?"

She slowly shifted, feet coming back down, leaning her elbows against her knees and watching her with interest.

"Congratulations on your conquering of the Core…"

"Rise, Queen of Eshan, I do not care to see scrapping and bowing from my childhood friends." Mercy stretched there, languid, lazy like a panther or a dragon.

"How was your date... I hope you showed her a good time."

Oh, there was that shit-eating grin.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mercy //:

"I am happy for you..."

But...

It took a moment, but Quinn eventually raised her head. Her nose, red along with her ears, burned with her frustration. Not only did her insult not land properly, but Mercy also seemed to revel in it. To be compared to someone like Ashin was obviously a high, a drug to an addict. Quinn didn't understand it and realized she never would.

Perhaps she remembered the woman differently than Mercy did, but Mercy had also spent more time with her. The thought only added to the Echani's annoyances.

"I'm mad because…" Quinn caught herself. What was she going to do? Express how hurt her feelings were. How did Mercy's attention fluttering to someone else bother her? How did she feel no longer important to the woman?

How all of this just reminded her of their youth, the constant rejection and chasing?

For that moment, Quinn felt small; she felt like a child again. She was reaching and desiring the attention of someone who looked away.

The pipe smoke lingered in the air. It churned the Echani's stomach as she stood slightly closer now. Only a few things ever made her feel this way, and they all tied together under the same band.

Force Dampening, Anti-Force, anything of the sort that hindered the Force also made the girl sick.

She paused now, paying attention to the smoke as it dissipated.

Quinn remained where she stood, watching Mercy. She wanted to move closer, but she didn't with that pipe lit with whatever was inside of it.

Either way, Quinn remembered after careful reminding that Mercy was denser than a brick of Beskar.

"I'm mad at you because you hurt my feelings." The moment it spilled from her lips, she felt even more childish.

"You called me that night, I heard the softness in your voice — when I realized it wasn't for me, like it had been before. I was jealous…"

Yes, she had Reina with her, but Mercy held something special for Quinn; there was a history that no one else could claim between them. The gift worn around her neck was cherished above anything else she owned. But, in that moment, she felt Mercy had forgotten, she forgot that she was…

"You're my Knave, you're my Herunín, when did all of that stop being important to you?"

She hated this; it reminded her of that last moment, before they stopped talking — when she ran away to the academy.

"When did I stop being important?"

 

[Mercy]

Quinn Varanin

The way Mercy's eyebrows went up was the telltale sign to Quinn.

She had no idea.

In truth Mercy was often blindsided when people were angry with her. From Arris Windrun to Vestra Tane to now with Quinn Varanin . Part of it was her lack of feeling. The heart beat, but there was nothing inside of it except for passion, hunger and desire. And perhaps to some degree other people didn't truly exist for Mercy.

Not once they left her eyes and were elsewhere.

Object permeance.

It meant that every time they returned, Mercy could greet them like they had only seen each other a moment ago, but it also meant that she didn't quite register that they had their own things going on.

"I was jealous…"

And now Mercy's head tilted, along with the eyebrows, before she finally rested her chin on her palm and watched Quinn curiously.

"You're my Knave, you're my Herunín, when did all of that stop being important to you?"

"When did I stop being important?"

Finally Quinn was done and once again Mercy was struck by how different the prodigal daughter was to them. Sensitive, gentle, more like a flower even though the power within her could make worlds tremble.

"Jealous..." Mercy murmured, tasting the word on her tongue and finding the shape of it displeasing. "Should I be jealous too?" She hummed at that thought, because it never occurred to her that jealousy was a feeling worthy of taking possession of. After a moment of consideration, Mercy shook her head. "No, I don't think I will. But it makes me curious why you believe you have a right to that emotion when it comes to me."

Mercy rose up, the weight of her causing the floor to groan just by sheer placement.

The Mountain took a step towards the Princess.

"Do you believe you own me, pretty Quinn?" Eyebrows up again as she drew from her pipe, savoring the pain in her lungs. "Do you believe there are chains on my wrists that lets you decide who I pay attention to and when?"

Another step, the floor trembled, amber bleeding into her eyes.

"You question how important you are to me... but when you are elsewhere... should I question how important I am to you?"

There was danger in those words. Mercy didn't operate like normal people, who could have many thoughts at once. Up until now Mercy had believed that they had a great dynamic. A friendship that was rooted in a shared past. A shared desire for one another on top of that. And no assumptions that they belonged to each other, because their eyes reached far and their hunger transcended such things.

But now these questions began to pop into the storm in her mind. Foreign, qualities that Mercy never considered before.

If she began to internalize them, it would change everything and perhaps not for the better.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mercy //:

The questions she was presented reminded Quinn that Mercy wasn't like her other paramours. The woman didn't bend to Quinn's will; she never did, and she never will. A reminder that, despite how much Quinn cared, how much Quinn's heart may have loved Mercy, none of it would be returned. Not in the way that Quinn was used to or wanted.

Mercy was like Ashin more and more… And Quinn had fallen into the same cycle of wanting attention.

Her chest hurt; her heart pounded with anticipation. She could feel the shift in the Force, the way it warped around them. Mercy consumed everything around her; Quinn wondered if that was what drew her to the woman.

"No." She started, finding a bit of her own strength to withstand the maelstrom that was Mercy.

"I don't think I possess you, Mercy. No one can do that. While I can be foolish, I'm not that foolish." Quinn shook her head and stepped towards the descending woman. A thought crossed her mind, the thought of possession. Quinn was oddly aware of the weight of the choker around her neck as a hand danced against its warm metal.

"There are no chains. I've never demanded anything of you, Mercy. Even now, I don't demand anything. I just—" She caught herself, at times she did want to demand the woman's attention, she wanted it always to be on her. But was it just for carnal desires?

"I want you to see me… as more than just 'Pretty Quinn'..." Her fists balled at her side, her own frustrations manifesting, breaking the quietness of her suppression. The strength of her lineage bled into the Force; she felt the desire to be seen as an equal, to be noticed and considered strong enough to be at her side.

"I want to fight with you. I want you to call me when you want someone at your side. That's what I mean by importance. I just want my face, my strength, to be something that you remember."

Maybe all of this was just a foolish notion. Maybe she was just a broken, used tool like she always felt. It scared her to think that; it scared her to compare Mercy to Ashin.

"I don't want you to throw me away like Ashin does to all her useless tools. That's why my feelings were hurt. I felt useless to you, I don't like that… I hate it."

She shook her head and did her best to rein in the swirl of emotions. Already around Throneworld, the electrical currents were rising, static filling the air as the uncontrollable storm that Quinn began to brew.

"I do not own you, Mercy, but like I've told you before, I do want you to be in my life, in my orbit… You are my oldest friend, the one person that knows me perhaps as well as my mother…"

Mentally, Quinn was prepared for whatever they had to end; she didn't want it, and the thought of it crushed her. Quinn was never one to kneel, but for Mercy, she remembered how to.

"I am your Núro...always."

 

[Mercy]

Quinn Varanin

Mercy paused in front of her and listened quietly, intently.

Brows furrowed in confusion yet again.

That was more how Mercy assumed they were, but it didn't quite connect with what Quinn had said before. Yet again she was struck by how different Quinn was from them. Ruled by her emotions, it gave her great strength, but also made it difficult for someone as emotionally unavailable as Mercy to really make things click.

It required muscles she didn't have (ironically) and didn't care to train (amazingly).

"I don't see you as 'Pretty Quinn'." Mercy finally said, stepping in again and now wrapping her large arm around Quinn's shoulders. If allowed she'd draw her with her to the viewport that dominated the wall near her throne.

The one with the grand view of Coruscant proper.

"You are my friend, Quinn. Prettiness doesn't come into it. You could be the ugliest fether in the Galaxy and you'd still have my trust." She declared with ease as they settled in front of Coruscant and Mercy watched the world spin underneath them. Traffic in the millions, billions, trillions perhaps. Even now the world was a commercial hotzone of the Galaxy.

Many were afraid of the Covenant, but no matter how disturbed they were about their acts against the Tapani houses and now in the Core Worlds, you couldn't just ignore Coruscant.

"You were there on Coruscant, you were there on Desevro, Atrisia... every large battle, you were there with me. But this is no longer individual Sith against the Galaxy." A shrug there, but Mercy's arm stayed on Quinn's shoulder, keeping her close if allowed.

"You have Eshan to care about, I have the Covenant. These fucking animals would eat themselves alive if I wasn't there keeping them in check."

Each day it became more natural for Mercy to be the grown-up. Less infuriating, even if it still chaffed.

"Ironic, I know, since I am the largest animal of them all, but no less true."

She let that linger for a moment, brows furrowed there, annoyed and pushing it down again. No, she still hated being the adult in the room.

"Now, are your feelings soothed, darling? You are my friend, pretty or not. And you can always fight alongside the Covenant, my oldest friend is welcome to my battles. If there isn't anything else... there is this wine bottle that remains unopened I got from the Tapani Sector..."

Already turning around, thinking the matter closed.

This was the chance for Quinn to salvage the situation. There had been an abyss before, teetering there, as Mercy's storm of a mind turned with the incursion of new thoughts. They were gone now, satisfied that she had misunderstood, but they could always return. Swiftly, quickly, if she was displeased again.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mercy //:

Quinn listened and nodded. Mercy wasn’t wrong, this wasn’t like before. While in the Black Sun there was only what they needed to care about. Quinn was still trying to structure herself, Mercy was already in the thick of things. Now, both have so much more on the line. Quinn wondered if Mercy realized it, she was becoming what she disliked — a leader. But Quinn had always known the woman would be fantastic at it.

Out of this entire moment, she hated how much of a child she sounded like. Worried, doubtful — it was a moment of weakness and a crack in the facade she carefully crafted for herself. She was lucky that Mercy, while like Ashin, didn’t carry the same quality of throwing her away.

Before Quinn could answer, Mercy was already done with the conversation. Another reminder of Ashin.

Quinn knew not to revisit this topic again. The thought twisted in her chest, but it was for the best. Her eyes followed the woman as she brought up the wine she had. She remembered the night she had called for comfort, she had called for Mercy to soothe the pain, fill the hole left by the handmaiden.

She wished to return to that.

“I am unsure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that my beauty is something you don’t think of?” The playful tone she often had with the Mountain of a woman would return as she caught up with Mercy’s large strides.

This was how it was meant to be, while Mercy was a mountain in the storm, there were only certain things she could weather from the Echani. Quinn thought of apologizing, making sure that things were clear between them. Yet it seemed with the swell of Mercy’s presence calming — Quinn figured it was a done deal. There was no reason for her to reach back and pull the thoughts to the surface of the woman’s mind.

Quinn smiled softly as she sought to reach for the Warlord. The touch was something she often wanted, it brought a semblance of comfort, something that Mercy might not ever pick up.

But that was okay, that was what they were.

“I am curious, what are your thoughts on the Republic?”