Private Of Silk & Syndicates

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:
//: Attire //:

The Vagrent's Pride
Location: Over Nar Shaddaa Space

It wasn't often she borrowed more personal items from her parents. But with the current assignment of trying to remain inconspicuous as she traveled the stars. Her journey to enlighten herself among the people she would one day govern was important. It also shed the naiveté she had been plagued with from her sheltered upbringing.

It was a thrilling adventure, and for the first time, she hadn't felt alone.

Still, Quinn knew she couldn't trust everyone she came across. Some wanted to undermine her, control her, and use her. Luckily for the Eshan Princess, she had avoided many of those types. Standing in the center of the room, hidden within the Pride, Quinn circled the forward lounge.

Often, her mother had used it to channel battle meditation. Quinn let her fingers drag along the armrest of the large chair, wondering what battles they had faced together - how it felt to know someone was always beside you.

Thoughts and dreams she grew up longing for.

A message was sent, and Quinn found herself pondering. The visit to Nar Shaddaa had been enjoyable. It had sparked enough interest in the Princess that she wanted to be more involved with the Syndicate.

Gently, she let her fingers tap against her crimson-stained lips, a signature she had made all her own.

Was it the potential profits from the gallery that intrigued her? The cover it could provide? Or was it the curator herself?

She didn't have the answer. Not yet.

Lowering herself into the obsidian throne at the lounge's center, Quinn crossed one leg over the other, propping her head up with an elbow on the armrest. Hazel eyes gazed out at the stars beyond the viewport.

Hopefully, she wouldn't be kept waiting long. Escorts had already been sent to ensure her guest of honor found her way to The Vagrant's Pride without difficulty.

Exhaling softly, she leaned back and folded her hands into her lap—already preparing for one of her favorite recent games.

Mauve.

The Zeltron had proven herself interesting, charming, and sharp. It was beneficial, certainly. But Quinn couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the wit and the mystery.

Something deeper? Something dangerous?

Or something worth keeping?

 

[Mauve du Vain]

The door at the far end of the lounge whooshed open and in came Mauve, sandaled feet whispering across the deck, a slitted dress of rich scarlet silk dripping from her form. She paused at the threshold, a violet stare perusing the room, lingering on anything and everything - except the other woman sitting at the center of the room.

Let her wait.

Finally, Mauve's eyes settled on the Princess of Eshan, black clad and regal on what looked to be an obsidian throne, the contrast so sharp with her ivory skin that it gave her an ethereal quality.

One eyebrow rose and Mauve walked forward, slitted fabric swishing around bare thigh. Once again, Mauve was reminded of the cost of looks. She seldom went aboard starships and forgot the chill of space. Next time, she would bring a fur coat, she assured herself even as she approached.

"I didn't know princesses got thrones," Mauve said, plum-stained lips curving. She kept walking forward. Others might have prostrated. Groveled before one of Quinn's station. Mauve had done enough groveling in the gutters of Nar Shaddaa. She didn't feel inclined to get on her knees for this princess.

The Zeltron stopped just in front of Quinn, reaching out daintily she tapped a fingernail on the arm of the throne, just near Quinn's wrist.

"Obsidian?"

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:
//: Attire //:

Of course, Mauve would take her time, making Quinn wait.

How rude.

Quinn watched the Zeltron enter from the corner of her eye, careful not to give her the satisfaction of open attention. She would never admit to admiring the way the woman's stride made the silk of her dress flow like liquid. So few could work silks like Mauve.

The Princess smirked as the woman dared to step up onto the short dais without a hint of respect. It shouldn't surprise her. Mauve had ignored boundaries from the moment they met at her gallery.

Quinn didn't respond at first, letting the silence stretch. Only when Mauve came close enough did she finally turn her head to meet her eyes. Her fingers lifted to caress the bold hand reaching for the throne.

"Not by choice," she said, smiling about the obsidian choice. "My parents had odd taste in decor. But what do you expect from Ashin and Spencer Varanin?"

She shifted in the throne, taking in Mauve's appearance. The dress left little to the imagination, and it was clear she wasn't accustomed to the chill of space. That made Quinn smile all the more. Folding her hands in her lap, she tilted her head.

"If you're cold, I can offer one of my cloaks."

Her gaze drifted—slowly—tracing the line of fabric from Mauve's throat, down her frame, to the daring slit in the dress. When her eyes finally returned to Mauve's face, they dipped once more, knowingly.

"I assume you have something for me? I have something for you too—I think it'll interest you." She leaned back into the throne, one brow raised.

"Shall we take a walk to warm you up? Or are you enjoying hovering over me like this?"

A pause. Then, with deliberate ease: "I don't mind the view either way."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Brazen. Incorrigibly so.

And yet, Mauve felt a heat in her cheeks at the touch, at those wandering eyes. Her chest rose and fell, heartbeat quickening despite all intention to remain aloof and unreachable. She hated that Quinn could no doubt sense that with those thrice damned Force powers. Hated the way she could feel the crimson of desire radiating from the pale girl. Except she didn't. Not at all. A want, a need, shivered through her, colder than the chill of the ship.

Her eyes narrowed at Quinn's words. A walk. Hm. A walk, is that what she wanted? After that.

So many games. And oh, Mauve enjoyed the games. But...

Her palm pressed flat on the arm of the chair, feeling the coolness of the obsidian beneath her palm, the warmth of Quinn's fingers brushing against her own. Mauve leaned in a little closer, as conspiratorial as an advisor to her royal.

"So... it's not a comfortable chair?" Mauve hummed, half-whispered, low and smoky, "I brought your artwork. It's in the hold. Shame about the chair though. I'd half a mind to paint you in it."

She dwelled on the verdant depths of Quinn's eyes for a moment, trying not to lose herself in those wilds. That would be dangerous. She found it exceptionally difficult.

"A walk," she murmured, this time outloud, shaking her head in disbelief, a slow smile creeping onto her face. As if the princess couldn't suggest something else to warm them up. As if she wouldn't.

"What is it," Mauve said around a suddenly tight throat, words constricted, husky, "that you have for me. I'd say i've been good but..." Her lips twisted to a pout, "We'd know that's a lie."

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

It wouldn't be the first time that the Zeltron had mentioned painting her. Each time it surfaced, it intrigued the Princess more than she'd admit.

Quinn bit her lip lightly as she didn't break the shared gaze as they promptly started the game again. Mauve was good, rarely backed down, and always had a way to push the Echani to the edge. It was fun, and Quinn looked forward to it.

Still, as they remained close enough to catch the delicate scent of each other's perfumes, Quinn remembered the fear. It made Mauve uncomfortable to see that. A side of the Echani that she wanted to keep locked away. It was ugly, monstrous, and only proved to others that she was born evil.

The hand resting alone squeezed the throne in a foolish attempt to ground her from her guilt. Her composure remained, while her gaze fell briefly, allowing the woman to take in Mauve once more.

A single finger traced delicate lines up and down the Zeltron's fingers and hand as she spoke.

"It's a miserable seat, but if it means you're imagining how to pin me to your canvas," Quinn's gaze returned to Mauve's, almost daring as she smirked, knowing what her words truly meant.

"I can endure a little discomfort." This was their game.

Quinn leaned back, letting her slender fingers find the gaps between the other woman's. She waited, listened to everything that the Curator had to say. A gentle and playful laugh escaped the Echani's painted lips.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less of you, my darling Mauve."

Quinn moved, leaning forward as she pushed herself to stand, letting her company come close enough that their bodies would brush against each other. The delicate scent of her perfume, floral, roses with a hint of sweetness, lingered in the air between them.

She moved away from the throne, her hand grasping at the woman's leading her down the short dais.

"Yes, I have a few things for you," Quinn began, and on cue, a hidden door opened behind the throne. Her fingers lingered loosely in the Zeltron's till she finally pulled away.

"Gifts, favors, and business." Quinn didn't look back as the door behind the pair closed, leaving them alone in the long hallway.

"I'm sure all three are things that can bring a smile to your face," Quinn placed her hand on the side panel, and another door began to open.

"Perhaps even garner forgiveness…" The pride and regality in her voice faded, her tone soft as she waited till the door finished opening and the pair would be allowed to step through.

"Wait here." Quinn motioned as she moved towards some of the significant locked cases.

Each one opened offering almost full wardrobes of silks and even finer fabrics. Dresses and other fashionable outfits are handcrafted by some of the best designers in the galaxy. Everything was one of a kind.

Quinn didn't say anything and continued to open cases now filled with rare stones, reflecting the overhead lighting like stars.

Leaning against one of the long, waist-high cases. "You can have anything, or everything in this room. As my thanks and as an offering." She crossed her arms loosely in front of her as she hesitated.

"I'd like to buy the gallery, along with keeping you as its Curator. I'm looking to develop a footing in the Black Sun, business if you will."

She looked to Mauve, trying to read the Zeltron's reactions.

"I've also come into possession of a mercenary force, and I'd like to offer their services by contract. The latter can be discussed further now or later, but the business of what happened…and the art gallery, I'd like to settle first."

As much as Quinn did her best to hide it, her worry bled through her body.

Fingers pressed into her arms, and her body was stiff. She would never admit it, but the feelings she experienced through the Force, through her own empathy, haunted her.

"I—" Quinn paused and sighed softly. "I only ever wanted to protect you."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

All those emotions bundled up in the Echani's slender frame, locked down beneath her grace and poise, radiated from her to Mauve's eyes like bursts of color - worry and guilt in hues of blue. As if, despite standing amidst all these gifts of splendor and high promises, the princess thought that she would remain unforgiven.

"Protect me?"

Mauve cast her gaze from the dresses, to the jewels, then back to the black-clad royal who stood so stiffly now, like she might crack all to pieces if she came uncoiled. The Zeltron let her stand there a moment, letting go of the woman's hand to trace fingertips across silks and gemstones, circling around the cases. She paused in front of a sheer dress in sable and starlight and held it up, admiring, then set it back down. The motion caused one strap of her dress to slip down across one bare shoulder. She did not fix it, instead moving on to the gemstones. She picked up a string of silver with a ruby and prodded it.

"Mercenaries... buying my gallery, giving me dresses and diamonds. If this is how you apologize for your, hm, behavior - well, I suppose you could misbehave more."

She knew why Quinn held herself wound so tightly, still beating herself up over Wielu. And shouldn't she? After what happened? Part of Mauve desired to draw on that anxiety, to turn it upon Quinn, make of her a tool - to be used and discarded. Perhaps it was what she should do... And yet, how strange, this woman who she had witnessed exhibit such strength could also be so fragile. Hard as steel. Smooth as glass.

Mauve ran her tongue across the back of her teeth and, rounding the edge of the cases, came back to stand in front of Quinn, holding the necklace in her hands. She unfastened the clasp and held it out, eyebrow raised, and motioned for the woman to turn around.

Breath unsteady, Mauve's fingers slipped the slender links of silver around Quinn's neck, fastened the clasp. As she did, Mauve's mask faltered, her face near those curling locks of white-blonde hair. She caught the scent of rose and honey.

"You said," Mauve began slowly. "I can have anything in the room."

Lacquered nails slid away from the fastened necklace, to whisper down across the Echani's arms. Leaning forward, Mauve's breath came hot in Quinn's ear.

"Buy my gallery, buy me an army, buy me a planet. I'll take it all. You're worried I think you a monster. But you're my monster." She bent her head lower, her lips brushing feather-light across Quinn's neck, murmuring into pale flesh, "And I know what I want."

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

Quinn's eyes followed the Zeltron as she perused the gifts that she was being offered. Small twitches and shifts in her body language began to paint the picture that Quinn was looking for. There was admiration in the items, and even without fully expressing it Mauve knew. Quinn figured that the Zeltrons were known for their empathic skills. A small kinship she felt with the species that she was allergic to. A part of her wished she hadn't gone to Weilu—maybe then none of it would have happened.

Remembering it only made the images feel even more real. A hand gently fell from her arm and hovered over the tender spot on her side. The memory of the pain and what she had done that day lingered until Mauve moved closer to her.

She wanted to laugh at the remark, but the guilt weighed heavily.

Everything fell apart because she couldn't think straight. Another thought haunted her: why had she felt such a primal, urgent need to protect the Zeltron? There were too many questions, but she did her best.

Quinn laughed, smiling through it. As Mauve looked away, the Echani winced from the pain of the healing wound. She couldn't hide it as well as before, not after being so tense.

"I often misbehave, so it might be better if you let me know what you like the most." Quinn sighed softly, letting the throbbing pain begin to fade.

She noted the necklace that the Zeltron grabbed. It was something Quinn had personally picked out; she favored it as well, and a small smile softened her face. For a brief moment, the Princess looked up slightly at the Zeltron as she drew closer.

She was surprised Mauve had approached so soon. Quinn figured the shopping would continue. Mauve continued to amaze her.

Turning, she looked at the back of the room, her hands leaning on the waist-high case, waiting to see what Mauve had planned. Quinn listened, holding her breath. She could hear it, feel it, everything bubbling to the surface. Mauve didn't try to hide the desire that hitched at the back of her throat. Quinn held onto the glass case, waiting. The weight of the necklace at her neck, the way Mauve's fingers caressed her heated skin, all of it made the Echani's blush spread from her cheeks to her ears.

This was their game, or so she thought.

The words were gentle, tantalizing as she reiterated taking whatever Quinn offered. But it was what she said next that nearly unraveled the Echani entirely.

Quinn gripped the edge of the case harder, trying to ground herself long enough to let her mind settle into what was being said. Her greatest fear is people seeing the monster that clawed at its cage within her chest. The beast she became when her life was threatened.

The thing that pushed people away led to her isolation and kept her there. Kirie loved her despite the darkness that made her a monster. Mauve accepted it, she welcomed it, she claimed it.

"Your monster?" Quinn murmured, trying to fight the small smile. The thought of someone accepting the dark, evil thing in her was intoxicating.

"Careful, Mauve." There was danger in her voice. She knew the extent of what she was, but she doubted Mauve had any clue.

"You only saw a glimpse of what I am," The Princess mused as she turned to face the woman who sought to claim the beast within. Quinn smirked as a finger dragged, caressing the curve of the Zeltron's jaw, drawing her gaze. "Are you sure you can accept all of it?"

Her hand gentle, she still held firm the woman's jaw as she leaned in, leaving her lips close, but only to tempt. Quinn lowered her voice as she let her gaze dance along Mauve's features.

"You may claim it, but you'll never own it."

Releasing the woman's jaw, she let her thumb drag gently along her chin, pulling at Mauve's lower lip. Quinn stepped away from the counter and passed the Zeltron.

"On the other hand, you may own anything else here, as a price for the art gallery, and perhaps your loyalty? With that, you'll gain mine. Which in time will prove to be worth your while"

 

[Mauve du Vain]

The fingers at her jaw, the thumb brushing over her lips set her trembling, a tingle running down her spine and an ache deep within her. Mauve wanted to sigh into that hand, to fall in a tangle of pink and ivory limbs into a gigantic bed, or maybe to float as the Duros did, spinning about as they discovered every inch of the other.

Then Quinn moved past, talking business again, and Mauve felt a sting of rejection flash through her, hot as a slap.

Why.

How many would have melted before Mauve's words, her touch, her lips - their defenses evaporated like mist beneath a morning sun. Yet Quinn still held herself guarded. Mauve could feel it there, a tangle of interwoven threads. The red bloom of desire, of course, but blurred by a darker, deeper carmine fading almost to black. Some dark emotion lurked there, so hideous that Quinn kept it locked away tight. But hadn't Mauve already seen it unfurled in all its grim splendor? She knew now what Quinn was - more of a Sith than Mauve had ever known when first they met. Beyond the desire and the dark power, Mauve could feel the unraveling of these defenses, and tinged at the edges the blue flashes of pain.

The way Quinn had clutched at her side earlier - she was still hurt.

Mauve swallowed, throat bobbing, her own guilt rising up. She let out a breath she did not know she had been holding and once more moved to circle the chests.

"Your loyalty," Mauve let out a hum of laughter, "Did I not have that already, or would you take a bullet for any beautiful stranger?"

With movements of a graceful lackadaise, fabric whispered across thighs as Mauve once more perused the items.

"Is that what I get to claim? Your loyalty and your gifts and your..." Fingers found the straps of her dress, nudged them from bare shoulders. They slid off, soft and silken - so too did the dress, slipping from lavender limbs until they pooled into a scarlet puddle at Mauve's sandaled feet. "Misbehavior?"

Mauve understood those who shied away from the natural state, who felt exposed. But why should she? Why would she let the hypocritical moralizers win out? The body was a work of art, why not put it on a pedestal to be admired?

To be admired by green eyes.

Her own violet irises studiously avoided meeting Quinn's, feigning fixation with another bit of jewelry - an enormous aurodium collar necklace, impossibly expensive and - were those corusca gems? She picked up the collar, heavy in her hands, and arched her arms up, exposing more swathes of lavender skin pulled in new and interesting ways before the princess' gaze as Mauve brought the cold metal to her neck so that she could fasten it, fingers twining behind her neck. The weight settled down upon her chest, heavy and cold and very gold.

Placing one hand on the collar, Mauve at last looked back at the Echani, one eyebrow arched in silent question.

Still calm and poised, princess?

Or would her own hunger unravel her defenses.

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

Quinn let her eyes wander as she spoke. Business was safer terrain — a familiar language that allowed her to settle her nerves.

A small sheepish smile broke across her face as she nodded. Mauve wasn't wrong; Quinn's loyalty had been put on display during the conference. She wouldn't have gotten into the fight if there hadn't been something there. What exactly, Quinn couldn't put her finger on it.

Was it loyalty… or just the afterglow of her pheromones?

She needed more time to sort those feelings, but Mauve seemed to want to know the confirmation, even if she was teasing. Quinn brushed back strands of hair as she sighed and nodded.

"You do have my loyalty…" Quinn sighed gently again, as much as she didn't want to admit to it and keep it as a bargaining chip, Mauve saw through the bluff.

It made the Echani chuckle gently as she brushed back her blonde hair. Her eyes fell from Mauve as she began to sort through some of the jewelry she stood beside. The chests were filled with crafted items from all over the galaxy, but her favorites were the Eshan silver. It was almost comical the connection she felt to the planet — despite never properly living there.

Mauve continued, mentioning what she could claim. Hearing it back, Quinn tried to understand what the issue was. More often, those were the things people wanted from her. No one truly wanted Quinn for just Quinn. They only saw the crown, riches, and a pretty face. For others, a weapon.

What happened next took the Echani by surprise.

Quinn's eyes widened, her breath catching as her lips parted in quiet disbelief. Never in her life would she have expected this course of action from the other woman. Whatever jewelry Quinn held fell from her hands as she watched and listened to everything unfold.

Mauve didn't look at her as she fastened the collar around her neck. Quinn, unable to stop from look, let her eyes dance from the curve of the Zeltron's face to her collar, her navel, her hips, and back to her face. She took every ounce of what was on display and appreciated the beauty of it all.

It was difficult to hide the effect of the Zeltron's actions; Quinn could feel her heart racing, her blush deepening, traveling to color her neck and chest. It was hard to breathe, and the room felt hot. In most cases, she could predict and prepare for things to escalate, but she was no longer in control of the scene. It had shifted dramatically in Mauve's favor.

Though the moment emerald met amethyst, Quinn found her voice. "Aurodium looks good on you." Her smile softened, her gaze moving from the woman's eyes and drifting down deliberately. Mauve wanted to be seen, so Quinn saw her.

Stepping forward and closing the small gap between them, Quinn continued to examine and study the woman. Her actions screamed desire and effort to gain what she wanted from the Princess, but in full, what was it? Just attention? Carnal desires? Or was there more? Quinn felt her head spinning and her heart thundering through her chest, but she remained as collected as she could.

It was unfortunate that her body betrayed her mind.

Closeness was the only cure for persistent loneliness. Her fingers found the edge of the collar, slipping just beneath its curve.

"It would be criminal to deny how beautiful you are." Her eyes fell on the collar, focusing on it as she felt the metal now warm from the woman's skin.

In any other circumstance, the Princess would have allowed her desire to control her, allow her hands to reach out and pull Mauve into an embrace that threatened to never let go. But her heart was elsewhere, and she wouldn't betray that.

Instead, she only gave what she could as she fought her own selfishness. The hand that held the collar gave it a gentle tug before her fingers caressed, trailing down the center of the Zeltron's beautiful and desirable figure.

Her hand only pulled away as she teased the top of what fabric was left adorning the woman's frame.

"I thought you sought to claim," Quinn murmured between them, her eyes once more looking towards the deep pools of violet. With every ounce of her will, she smiled and fought to be drawn in. She didn't reject Mauve — but only let her wade in the shallows of what Quinn Varanin truly was.

Leaning forward, she allowed their bodies to touch as Quinn let her hand caress the metal of the collar again. Her fingers wrapped around its curve and gave it a firmer tug.

"But I feel you seek to be claimed, you want to belong to someone, I will buy your art gallery, I will provide you with an army, I will gift you planets and power — I will claim you, all I require is your loyalty, and we will remain equals."

She paused, letting it sink in, letting their closeness radiate with the Zeltron.

"I will protect you. You can claim my monster, that darkness that makes me who I am under the surface, but the rest? Requires more."

Pulling back, Quinn gently released the collar, her eyes never leaving the Zelron.

"What do you say?"

 

[Mauve du Vain]

"I say the rumor is true," hissed Mauve, stepping forward where Quinn pulled back, following the warmth of that touch, "I am a greedy witch. And I want... what I want."

And what did she want? Not to be left alone in the void, cold and shivering. To feel the heat of those hands on her as they had been, exploring, reveling. To, for once in her fucking life, bask in and desire the lustful attentions of an equal like the light of a sun's rays on her skin. Except the one time she actually cared, that attention - the fullness of it - was withheld.

Out of what? She could feel the war within Quinn's chest, some part of the woman held back. And it set Mauve's teeth on edge. The way she talked to her too, teasing as if she might in fact claim her, lead her by that collar, only to retreat again. Fear warred with a ravenous ardor, Mauve could feel the woman's restraint strain, fraying, but not snapping.

Infuriating. Enough to drive her mad.

"You think I want to be claimed? To belong," she parroted back, the sultry laugh that followed short and tinged with peril, "So many pretty promises, Princess of Eshan, but you can barely look me in the eyes while I stand here, can barely touch me."

Those violet wells burned bright as giant, glistening stars, seeing far more than the pale girl might think.

"You think you're the only one with a dark side?" The smell of jasmine pervaded the air, growing thick and cloying, "If I wanted to be claimed, I would be. You offered anything in the room, and I chose. And that choice scares you. And maybe you should be scared, Quinn."

Mauve trailed her hand down her own body, scratching her nails across swathes of taut lavender flesh. The air was so cold against her skin, but she remembered the touch of the Echani's hand. The jasmine scent became oppressive, heady, arousing. Mauve saw Quinn's ravenous ardor, gnawing at her restraint, and fed the emotion as she would feed an open fire. The flames of desire were hungry, lapping up all they touched. All-consuming.

Not a want.

A need.

"I have had grown men drooling on their knees, promising anything - promising everything. You don't think that if I wanted to be claimed I could have you begging too? Kneeling? Kissing my feet?" The pheromonal wash lent her words an aura of not just implication, or suggestion, but a deep and sinister command, as Mauve arched her back so she stood and basked in unclothed glory, matching every bit the spectral dark of Quinn's own violent power.

The urge to fall to knees, to cling to and kiss those freshly-scarred, sandaled feet came on as a primal urge, relying on those deepest of genetic instincts. A collision of shame and lust that could lay the proud princess low with the basest of desires. To throw herself upon the Zeltron. To take and be taken.

"We're all monsters, Quinn," she rasped, her words losing the tone of command, the smell of jasmine fading, "But you. You want me, I can feel it. And that want terrifies you."

Her eyes shimmered, wide and welling.

"Why won't you take me if you want me so?"

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

Quinn should have expected this response, but she didn't. She had expected the woman to melt, to listen and accept the hand that the Princess had given. Most in Mauve's position would have. What Quinn offered was luxurious, and they were allowed enough of the Princess to feel special.

Too many had claimed to want her — all of her. But it always unraveled into the same truth. They wanted her beauty, her power, or the monster beneath. Never Quinn. Never the girl with dreams, fears, or longing. Always taking. Never giving.

Mauve had followed her; with each step the Princess took, the Zeltron took two. Quinn stopped at the previous case and found herself pressed against it. She could sense through her own empathy that there was more to this than just base carnal desires. Quinn sparked a depth of need for discovery.

Their eyes met, and Quinn could see the confusion, the anger that burned under everything. There was no more questioning what it was; that something had been more than basic desires and curiosity — it was 'want' in a way that Quinn had only felt a handful of times in her life. That want came with the ache for comfort, and Quinn wanted to reach out — hoping that her touch could soothe.

She started, her face softening and her hand slowly moving to touch, Mauve stepped in her features darkening behind the sharp words. Quinn paused as the sudden breeze of warmth and jasmine hit her senses. Her eyes widened slightly as her body accepted the gentle scent. Quinn wanted to fight it, but instinctively, she inhaled even deeper, taking in the thickening air.

Almost instantly, her eyes glossed over and her mind succumbed to the Zeltron's influence. Try as she may, there was nothing she could do. With each deep breath, she felt Mauve's hold on her tight like a silken scarf around her neck. Her eyes focused only on Mauve, following every word, every command — this was very different than before.

Back on Weilu, her words were soothing, warm, and inviting. It was easy for the Echani to fully accept and let the suggestions swirl in her mind. But now, each word was laced with authority, and Quinn could not disobey. A hand covered her face as she tried to gather her thoughts, find the will to push through the fog. Mauve continued, speaking of men on their knees making promises — were they promises like the ones she was making?

Quinn could feel her knees buckle, her inhibitions fading as she eyed every curve, length, and shape of the Zeltron's figure. Her mind betrayed her, imagining how it would feel to fall tangled with her, to taste, to touch anything and everything.

Every thought belonged to Mauve, and yet she continued to try to fight. Tears welled in her eyes from the struggle, but her gaze never left the other woman's. No tears fell as Mauve pulled back her pheromones. If they had continued, Quinn would have given in to the commands — losing the battle between them. Quinn gasped for fresh air, and in the same breath, the Princess reached for the Zeltron, pulling her tightly into an embrace.

Fingers pressed as nails pressed into Mauve's perfect lavender skin. Quinn held onto her tightly as if she would vanish the moment the Princess let go. She buried her face into the curve of her shoulder and remained silent as the heat of her breath danced against taut skin.

After a moment, letting Mauve's unanswered question linger — Quinn finally spoke.

"Yes," she began, "I do, I want, I desire, I crave. I'm greedy as well." The lingering scent of Jasmine clung to the woman's skin. It was different, but still the same as Quinn tightened her embrace. Fingers moved, threading through the length of the woman's hair.

"I want to claim you, possess you as mine — give you all the things I've promised, but I don't want to do it out of desire, I want to do it because I find value in you, you're smart, cunning — far more than just beauty."

Her voice softened, "But I cannot resist you… but I trust you…" Quinn knew if Mauve had held out longer, the Princess wouldn't have been able to fight it.

"With everything…"

They both had their darkness, and like Mauve, Quinn accepted this.

"I see you, I accept you…as you accept me." She paused and once more gently squeezed Mauve.

"I want to tell you, and I will in time, right now, it's not the time."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

The words burned, as if she'd picked up a handful of ice. A coldness seeped deep into her bones that had nothing to do with the frigid vacuum of space and the ship's stark interior, though that made her shiver too. The warm fingers curling into the bare skin of her back and the cheek resting on her shoulder made her pause, for only a moment, then she was pushing away from Quinn's embrace.

"It's cold," she said simply, spinning away to hide the tears tracking down her face. Seizing an ermine coat from the glass case, she hauled it out with a tug and stuffed her face into it, as if to smell the fur, masking how she wiped away the tear stains.

Then she slid her arms through the massive coat and shimmied her shoulders, clearing her throat. "Mm. Much better."

Gliding back the way they'd come, Mauve promptly ignored the woman's previous words, letting them ice over. She had no idea why Quinn was playing this game with her of all people, trying to spool her out just to cut the wire. It had been Quinn playing with those little touches, the gliding of fingertips against skin... all those messages and promises of what Quinn would do to her should they be alone... so many sweet nothings... pretty little lies.

But at least Mauve knew the rules of the game now, and two could play it. It was a game Mauve knew all too well. One she hadn't sought to play with the princess, to unravel her emotions and toy with them as she had to others. But the princess wanted to play. Silly girl. She would be begging by the end of it.

Mauve sauntered out the exit, back into the throne room, rubbing at slightly red eyes. She pulled oh so gently on Quinn's emotions, tugging on the curiosity and lust that were already pre-existing. Maybe Quinn could feel her doing it. Fine. Good. Let her.

Eyeing the throne, Mauve promptly stepped up and plopped herself down in it, the fur pooling around her figure as she lay upon it sidelong, one leg dangling off the arm, the other propped up atop it, knee raised.

"Hmm. It's not so bad as all that. You exaggerated," Mauve accused, violet eyes clear and shining but for the redness at the edges, "Shall I pass judgment upon you now?" She smiled wickedly, letting her arms fall back behind her to pillow her head, the folds of the coat pulling, dangerously loose.

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

Again, another whiplash. Quinn tried to reach, to keep the closeness of someone who had claimed they accepted the monster she was. The moment Mauve pulled away, it felt like a cold blade to her core. She should have expected this. Mauve wasn't different from the others despite how much the Princess wanted to believe.

"Buy my gallery, buy me an army, buy me a planet. I'll take it all. You're worried I think you a monster. But you're my monster."

Those words were just a lie. Perhaps a way for Quinn to lower her guard and let the Zeltron in further. As Mauve moved away, gathering the coat to warm her stripped form from the cold of space and the situation. Why were people complicated?

Quinn lifted her head and studied Mauve's face for a moment. Was she crying? Another heated dagger cut into her. She had thought her words would bring comfort — yet they only made things worse. Mauve continued leaving the room of treasures, and Quinn remained, letting her breath rattle as she exhaled.

It didn't take long for Quinn to find any ounce of composure after she had told nothing but the truth to the woman. What was this game? Was this back and forth only to unveil her insecurities?

A hand quickly swiped under her eyes, catching the rogue tears that threatened to stain her face. Another exhale, and Quinn found the regality that her station provided. She walked down the hallway a few paces behind the Zeltron, stopping only to watch the woman so brazenly take a seat upon the throne.

Quinn let her as she walked back into the room and stood at the base of the raised dais. It wasn't hard to glean that Mauve seemed to derive some pleasure from being on the throne while its sovereign stood a head below her.

"Judgement?" She repeated it, a curious response to everything that had happened. Quinn remained calm, despite the storm of emotions that tightened her chest. Grabbing the fabric of her dress, she picked up the front and stepped up the dais to the throne.

A hand moved the woman's legs to sit correctly on the throne. "If you're going to claim my throne, then do it properly." She murmured as she pushed the woman's shoulder back to the back of the obsidian throne.

She paused, seeing that Mauve was still wearing the collar. The gesture still confused her.

Carefully, Quinn ran her finger under the metal collar and let the silence stretch between them. She couldn't figure out the quick and sudden shift in emotions, and her curiosity was piqued. Her gaze moved from the collar back to Mauve's face, almost mirroring the Zeltron's arrival.

"Then tell me, my Queen — what is your judgement of me?"

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Violet wells stood wide as Quinn moved her just so, causing Mauve's breath to catch. When the woman loomed over her, toying with the necklace, Mauve let out a huff. She had been comfortable the other way. This way, sitting properly, the edge of the throne bit into the underside of her thighs, even through the long fur coat.

She felt confusion from Quinn. And... her eyes were a bit red. Mauve's slender brows drew ever so slightly together. Had she also been crying. They couldn't both be crying. The pair of them, ridiculous. And over what? Quinn claimed to want her, she could feel that need, but the woman said she couldn't. No further elaboration. All part of a ploy on Mauve's emotions, or...

A thought crossed her mind, like a stone skipping across the surface of a pond, leaving wide ripples of successive thoughts in a chain that wound around and around.

"My judgment?" she grabbed the woman's hand that toyed with the heavy aurodium collar, "You would dare approach the throne," she teased, tone a playful pretend at austere As if there had been no ice between them, as if the two of them had not been moments away from collapsing into tears.

But Mauve remembered.

"My judgement is that you have been very bad. A sinner against the realm. And now I must decree your punishment," she paused, holding Quinn's own finger up to her painted lips and brushing it against them with a tap, tap, tap, as if in thought, "Isn't that what you nobles do, you decree?"

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

She had been crying or was going to. Quinn studied the woman's face and realized—perhaps they were both fools. A part of her wanted to offer reassurance, but she figured Mauve would shrug it off and make the Princess feel more foolish. Such was the mask of the Zeltron.

Quinn didn't flinch when her hand was grabbed. She allowed the control to shift to the Zeltron, which would allow her to learn more about the woman's habits. Touch told more than words, and the Echani began to remember her ways. Eyes studied, never leaving the curve of lavender skin. Every twitch to every rise and all of her breath. All of it, the Echani studied.

What had occurred earlier would not be forgotten, but a part of the Princess enjoyed returning to their previous game.

"I do, I dare to look into the eyes of my Queen as she passes judgement on my sinful soul," Quinn smirked, letting Mauve puppet her hand with theatrical grace.

It was almost comical, the way Mauve manipulated her hand — playful, and so very Mauve. A thought crossed the Echani's mind as she tilted her head. The urge to straighten one of her fingers as they pressed against the painted lips hung in the air. She fought it, not wanting to push the boundary too far.

They had only returned to the playfulness of their exchanges.

Sighing softly, Quinn leaned in, keeping her voice low, her gaze locked into the lavender pools of Mauve's eyes.

"My Queen, my apologies, but we are royalty — we are far better than the squabble of nobles."

It was the truth; whenever people associated nobility and royalty, it bothered Quinn. To her, nobles were filthy and pathetic. They sought to reach higher than their station to the point of posturing and sacrificing their own souls for gain.

Royalty, at times, was no better, but there was a purity to their ambition. They didn't reach for more; they focused on what they had at the top. But even then, Quinn disliked her station.

Too often, she was surrounded by pretenders and people who wanted to sink their claws as deep as they could. Her life was filled with ownership; she was to be owned, claimed, and puppeted.

Quinn wanted none of that and continued to fight it.

"Decree works. So does Declare. I've heard some planets — Varonat, I think prefer edicts," Quinn mused.

"But my Veluthiel, you are the highest authority here; you may use any word you choose."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

"Hm, any word" Mauve tried to smother the spark of delight she felt at that lilting Echani word. Highest authority. Hah. At only twenty-five, when had Mauve ever been anything but a fly on the wall to be swatted at, or perhaps a butterfly to be admired, but so easily smushed. Only recently had she had a taste of true power and extravagant wealth. She feared she was developing appetite for ostentation.

The Echani's delicate ivory finger had yet to move and she could feel the painted fingernail scraping against her lower lip.

"Veluthiel," she murmured past the finger "What's that."

Her eyes narrowed at the answer. A pet name. Was Mauve to be kept then, as a pet? Is that what she wanted, or did she rebel at the idea? Then again. How could she not pardon this creature of moonlight, far too beautiful and full of grace.

Mauve shifted in the chair, one leg crossing over the other, still holding the woman's hand, she pulled it away from her lips. She let her eyes wander upon the princess, as if in thought, admiring the smooth flawlessness of her pale, aristocratic skin. Delicate as porcelain, but beneath a woman who could be as hard and imposing as marble. Skin so pale that every blush, every flush of color, lay bare to the eyes of the watcher. Black lace wound around her shoulders and arms and a high collar, unconnected to the bodice. All in deepest black. All obstructing Mauve's view. Envy spiked within her core.

"Another sin, you're only worsening your punishment," Mauve tilted her chin up, defiant and proud, mimicking the posture of proud princelings she had seen in the holovids, "My edict is a hundred lashings," she pronounced, though as she did so, she pulled Quinn's hand back to her lips and with a flash of white teeth, parting full, pouting lips - dark as wine, to run a tongue along the pale princess' fingertip, even as her gaze locked with those green pools of longing. Making it quite clear exactly what kind of lashings Mauve meant. Her tongue flicked, in and out, and then she let a grin full of mischief curl up her face. "Unless you offer some penance for your sins?"

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

Quinn wanted to chuckle. The reaction to the nickname was interesting, but she would indulge the Zeltron's curiosity. The Princess leaned forward, a knee now resting atop the seat, slightly resting against Mauve's leg.

"Mm," she mused, tempted to offer a false meaning just to see that adorable little scowl twist Mauve's lips. Seeing the woman's nose wrinkle as she outwardly complained about things was entertaining to the Echani.

Tilting her head, the Princess gently bit her lower lip in thought, then finally spoke.

"It means Radiant One." Quinn smiled, "Deeper translation would be Sweet Radiant One."

She'd let the meaning sink in. It was more of a title than a pet name, but she wondered if the Zeltron would take it as such. She was a curious woman, and despite it all, Quinn found her intriguing. Though the Princess didn't know if this intrigue was because of the Pheromones lingering, or the longing she was feeling. Either way, Quinn wanted to know more.

Mauve continued to surprise, again.

Before Quinn could pull her hand back, Mauve had other plans. Warm and wet — Quinn's lips parted as Mauve punctuated her promise of punishment with deliberate touch. Her fingers flexed at first contact, but she didn't pull away.

Quinn enjoyed the attention, but she kept her boundaries, only letting the Zeltron have what was allowed. It was only growing difficult, but she persisted. As Mauve finished, Quinn's face was flushed, and she inhaled deeply through her teeth.

"Only 100?" Quinn smirked, regaining a bit of her composure. "I expected something a bit more devastating."

Another chuckle as she rested her free hand on the armrest, a finger gently goading the woman's hand. The mention of penance was interesting. Quinn decided to take this as an opportunity to finish what she had started and moved closer, climbing onto the Zeltron's lap. True to her upbringing, the motion was fluid as she sat atop Mauve's lap, now at eye level.

"Penance, how kind of you, my Veluthiel." She used the nickname again as she forced their gaze to continue to hold.

"There's so much that could be penance for the sins I've committed."

Knowing that there were a few things the woman wanted, Quinn couldn't offer. But she was going to try to garner something else.

"My penance is to share a secret — one that I have to share honestly. I request, Veluthiel that I learn something about you in return."

A bold request, but Quinn needed that reassurance that they were at least honest with each other.

The hand that was held slipped from Mauve's grasp as fingertips caressed her cheek and jaw. Quinn studied and felt, gauging the woman's storm of emotions to this meeting.

 

[Mauve du Vain]

"A secret?" Mauve's throat bobbed, eyes very, very wide as Quinn sat astride her, conscious of the way their bodies pressed together amid the shifting of the fur coat and what did - or did not - lay beneath. The Echani's touch against her face sent another of those shivers down her spine. "You know I love secrets."

Her lips pulled down into a pout once more. This was all highly unfair. First she bought her all these wonderful things, told her she wanted her, then she made her cry, and now she was offering up secrets while sitting on her lap. Ugh. Mauve could not decide whether to be delighted, offended, cold, or some mix of all three.

But she did love secrets.

"Fine," she hissed, chewing on her lower lip, "I'll accept your penance."

It seemed the Radiant One was merciful. Mauve hated that she loved the sound of it. Especially from Quinn's lips. The Zeltron ran fingers up one of the Echani's thighs, over the fabric of the dress she wore.

"But only a true secret. I'll not have your white lies. Give me something real, something I can sink my teeth into, something I can..."

Mauve's wandering hand found the hem of Quin's dress and slid under the offending fabric, nails dragging lightly upon bare skin.

"Touch."

Quinn Varanin

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //:

It seemed her small plan was working. Quinn felt a measure of control, despite the sight of someone else in her throne. She wasn't fond of it, but she understood the curiosity.

For most, the throne was untouchable.

Perhaps Mauve simply sat there to get under her skin. The Zeltron did seem to enjoy that. Quinn would never know the truth, but for now, it was enough to ease the tension — or so she thought.

She wanted to answer I know the moment Mauve confessed her love for secrets, but instead only smiled and inclined her head. The woman liked to collect them, keep them close, reveal them only when it suited her. Quinn could never be sure how many she held, or whose they were.

That thought was both comforting and dangerous. If the secret wasn't valuable, it could be dismissed. If it were too valuable, Quinn might lose something precious.

"Thank you, your mercy knows no bounds, my Veluthiel," she murmured, keeping their game alive. She parted her lips to continue, but Mauve's words carried on, her fingertips following — lacquered nails tracing porcelain skin. Quinn remained composed, letting the touch linger just enough to anchor her.

Because what she was about to say could ruin everything. Still, her sudden blush betrayed her, the touch was light and tempting.

"There's someone," she began softly, her gaze locked to Mauve's as if searching for the slightest flicker of reaction. "She's vital to me. I protect her… and she loves me. As much as I might want to indulge myself, my heart belongs to her."

Her hand lingered against Mauve's cheek, thumb brushing beneath her lip before falling away.

"I love her. I care nothing for her station, and even less for mine. That's my secret."

It was the most profound truth she could give without endangering Kirie further.

Quinn's eyes didn't waver as she braced for Mauve's reply.

"Your turn."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Those questing fingers halted, frozen by the words.

There's someone.

Of course. Of course there was someone. Mauve's smile grew frigid.

Lacquered nails tilted the woman's chin so that they looked into each other's eyes. Mauve knew precisely what she was doing. She hoped the woman drowned in her gaze, because Mauve felt herself getting lost in those verdant pools despite the news. Perhaps because of it.

She had always wanted what she couldn't have. Quinn's revelation made it all make sense. The way the Echani said she wanted her, made such whispers and glances and touches, but could never quite cross the line. Now Mauve knew what was holding her back. This someone. That explained the guilt consuming the woman almost as much as the longing.

"Your secret," Mauve said, voice low, almost a whisper, "Is safe. If there's someone else, that's fine. You think they're your true love? Fine. But if you really love her as much as you say, why are you on top of me. Why is it my body you desire. My touch. My kiss."

She leaned closer, their noses touching. The fingers on Quinn's thigh became nails.

"Don't deny it, Quinn. I can't use the Force like you do, but that doesn't mean I can't feel your emotions. Those don't lie. I know you want the same thing that I want. I don't believe in owning someone else like that. You want my secret?"

Her breath quickened. What was she doing. This was not how this was supposed to go.

"I'll give you two. One, I'm a Zeltron. We're supposed to feel, deeply. I don't know if I can. I don't know if I ever have. Not that way. But two...."

She shouldn't say this.

"I think you might be my only real friend in the galaxy. But we both want more..." her throat constricted, the words coming out low and husky, their lips so close, "And I wouldn't tell a soul. Not ever."

Quinn Varanin