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sansaorgana · 2 months

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— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍

WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.

That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.

Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.

But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.

While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.

You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.

The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.

He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.

“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”

“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.

“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”

“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.

“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.

This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.

“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.

But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.

“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.

“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.

“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.

It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.

If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.

“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.

“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.

Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.

Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.

“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like?

“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”

“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.

He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.

Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.

“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.

You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.

“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”

“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.

“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.

“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.

“Let me go!” You protested.

“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.

“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.

“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.

Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.

“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.

“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.

You were a war prize.

You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.

The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.

You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.

He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.

You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.

“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him.

“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.

You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.

He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.

Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.

“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.

The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.

“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.

“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.

“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.

“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.

Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.

“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.

“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.

In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.

“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.

“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”

The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.

And every power came with a sacrifice.

Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.

“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.

Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.

“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.

“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.

“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.

You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.

You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.

Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.

The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.

“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.

“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.

The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.

“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”

You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.

Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.

Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.

You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.

You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.

“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.

“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.

“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”

“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.

“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”

“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.

“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”

“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.

“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.

Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.

The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.

“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.

Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.

You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.

The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.

When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.

You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.

Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.

He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.

“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.

“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.

You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.

Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.

Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.

In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.

Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.

He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.

“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.

“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.

“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.

He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.

“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.

“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.

“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.

“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.

“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely.

“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.

“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.

“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.

“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.

You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.

“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”

“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”

“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.

He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.

“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.

Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.

“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.

“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.

For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.

You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.

“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.

“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.

“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.

You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.

“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.

You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.

When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.

“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.

Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.

“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”

When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.

You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.

Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.

But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.

The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.

“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.

“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.

Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.

“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”

“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.

The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.

“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”

“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.

Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”

Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.

You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.

Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.

No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.

Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.

It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.

Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.

Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.

“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.

“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.

“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.

“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.

Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.

“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.

“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.

“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.

“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.

“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”

“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.

“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”

You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.

Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.

“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.

“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.

He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.

“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.

“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.

He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.

“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.

“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”

“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.

“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.

Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.

Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.

“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.

Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.

Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.

Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.

The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.

With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.

“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.

You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.

“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.

Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.

When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.

“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.

“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.

Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.

Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.

His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.

The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.

You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.

“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”

Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.

Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.

“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.

“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.

“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.

That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.

“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.

Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.

“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.

You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.

Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.

You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.

But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.

And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.

You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.

You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.

Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.

“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.

“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.

“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.

“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”

“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.

You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.

One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.

And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.

You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.

“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.

“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”

You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.

“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.

“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”

“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.

You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.

Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.

“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.

“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”

“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.

“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.

“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.

“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”

“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.

“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.

“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.

You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.

The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.

“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”

“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.

“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.

“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.

“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.

“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”

“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”

“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.

You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.

“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”

“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.

“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”

“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.

“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

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bunnylovesani · 6 months

Text

An Arrangement

Summary: You’re a princess taken from your home planet and forced to marry Darth Vader. Turns out life on the Death Star isn’t as bad as everyone makes out. Based on the prompt shared with @luminoustarlight !

Content warnings: p in v sex, degradation, sub dynamics, begging, some violence, slow burn smut

WC: 9.3k

You stare out the grand palatial window in the coronation room, passively observing the flames swallowing the city of your home planet Onderon. Unintelligible screams flood the background, soon mercilessly silenced by the thuds and cracks of brusquely operated laser guns.

So this is how you were to meet your end: powerless at the mercy of the imperial army. You’d been trained for such a scenario before and you always carried a vial of poison in the event of capture; you’d rather die than be made to serve the Empire’s twisted interests.

“Princess, you need to take cover, follow my men into the vault below!” Your faithful attendant, Silas called out in panic.

“No, Silas. I will not cower in the basement waiting for them to breach our walls. I will remain here and eagerly await them.”

“But Your Grace-!”

“Enough.” You bark back. “It’s over. You have been discharged from duty, run while you still can. Thank you for all your years of service, I pray that our paths might cross again in another life.” You turn from him, tears flowing down your stiffeningly cold cheeks.

“May the Maker keep and protect you, Princess. You are our only hope.” He replies solemnly, before fleeing through the stony back passage of the palace.

You chuckle mirthlessly at the futility of his words and reach into your bosom where the corset of your gown has a sewn-in compartment. You extract the compact glass ampule of viper venom, so toxic that one drop is enough to send you into an eternal sleep, and fiddle with the intricate bottle for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, you tuck it under your sleeve; you decided you wanted to gaze into the eyes of your captors before you bid farewell to life.

With a resounding crash, the barricaded gate before you falls and the imperial army- donning armour plastered in dust and foreign blood- swarm into the great hall of the palace. You force the knot in your throat down with a gulp and turn on your heel to face the brutes responsible for the massacre of your people.

“Ah Princess, excellent. We thought you’d be grovelling underground with your father but you’ve just made our job a whole lot easier.” A masked figure that you presume is the Commander of the battalion addresses you. “Grab her. But keep her alive, she’s got a special purpose to fulfil.”

Hearing the ominous plans they have in store for you, you rush to reach for the poison in your sleeve but are hindered by the stampede of soldiers hurtling at you, slapping the vial out of your hand and shattering it all over the nitid marble floor.

‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it.” The unnaturally deep voice of the commander booms. “You’ve been specially requested at the behest of the Emperor.” Dread consumes you as you’re roughly cuffed and dragged out of the safety of your childhood home. The soldiers marching comes to a sudden halt and you’re made to turn around and stare at the palace, a deadly silence hanging in the air.

“Burn it.”

Triggered by the commander’s words, a roaring blaze fulminates, the building being crushed in an instant by the force of the explosion. All you can see is the reflection of smouldering flickers through the thick veil of tears filling your eyes.

The commander smugly trudges over to you, sharply inhaling. “Ah, there’s nothing better than the smell of a coward’s smouldering corpse.” He hisses, words dripping with venom. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Your heart burned at the injustice, at the innocent civilians decimated- but you couldn’t fool yourself into pretending that scorn extended to your dearly departed father.

Refusing to reply to his provocation with anything other than an expectorated glob of spit aimed at his helmet, he takes the barrel of his gun and pummels it with brute force against your temple. You’re instantly rendered unconscious and your limp body is packed into the nearest starfighter, chained up and ready to make the journey from Onderon to the Death Star.

The first thing you do as you’re rudely awoken is cradle your aching head- a wave of nausea overtaking you and the electric pain behind your eyes knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Rise ’n shine, Onderon whore.” One of the soldiers grabbing you by the elbow spat and you stumbled to your feet like a newborn foal. After being dragged through a fortified steel tunnel, you were harshly thrown to the floor in a cold control room before two cloaked men, one of whom wore black combat boots- no doubt robust and heavy enough to crack open a skull. The light in the battle station glowed painfully bright and you lifted your head as best you could to observe the squabbling figures through squinted eyes.

“Here she is, my young Lord. I think she’ll do nicely, yes?” The ominously raspy voice croaked and you knew at once it was none other than Emperor Sheev Palpatine.

“She’s shivering.” The monotonous voice of the other cloaked figure stated callously and only then did you notice how your body was trembling- whether it was from the cold or the fear, you weren’t sure.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to warm her up on your wedding night.” He cackles wickedly but is met with silence from the man opposite him. The last thing you remember before it all went black was the light reflecting off of the quiet man’s helmet, and wondering what might be lurking underneath.

“Tskk poor thing, look at this cut on your head.” You flutter your eyes open to see a woman in a billowed white cloak tutting and fussing over you. “Good morning, princess.”

“Who are you?” You scowl, trying to get up and immediately being knocked back down by the overwhelming pain.

“Whoa, easy now! Nice ’n slow.” The woman puts her arm around your waist and helps you to sit up. “I’m Sabe, a royal handmaiden. Your handmaiden, to be exact.”

“Where am I?” You croak, uncertain you wanted to know.

“You’re on the Death Star, ma’am.”

Bile rises in your throat at the realisation that none of it was a dream- your recollection of the last 24 hours starts flooding in and your chest seizes in panic. The fire, the cloaked men, the people in the vault.

“You’re all right, just breathe. No harm is going to come to you. He’s made sure of that.” Sabe spouts and your head snaps at her.

“He?”

“Oh yes, Lord Vader gave orders for your protection. Under penalty of death. If you ask me, he just needs a woman’s touch to soften him up and he’d finally succeed in shaking that leech of an emperor off. Suppose that’s where you come in!”

“Me?” You screech, wondering when you’d say something not in the form of a question.

“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t know…the Emperor is arranging a wedding between his young protegee and a princess from a seized planet. The princess being you, if that’s not clear.” She continued chattering incessantly.

“Yes, I got that.” You snap. “And when is this supposed union meant to be taking place?”

“Tonight.”

You choose to remain quiet, rather than parroting back her last word in the form of yet another question.

After your handmaiden assists in bathing and dressing you in clean robes, you still can’t seem to escape the dull throbbing of the headache that permeates every cell of your body, leaving you in persistent agony. You beg Sabe to find something to help, knowing that you yourself weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the east wing. Stepping out onto the enclosed observatory space by your chambers, you stare out into the stars surrounding the vessel. You wished you could break beyond the thick glass enclave and just glide away, joining the stars and freeing yourself from the pain.

“Who hurt you?” A raspy voice questions and you turn around to the sight of Lord Vader, enveloped in his armour and mask.

“Uh, whoever the commander of the battalion was.” You reply, startled.

“He will be dealt with. Now come here.” He reaches his gloved hand out, signalling for you to grab it. With a great deal of uncertainty, you approached him, timidly giving him your hand. He takes it into his palm and holds it firmly to his chest. As if some force had siphoned the contusions and swelling out of you, you felt your agony slowly subside- until there was nothing at all in its wake.

“H-how did you do that?” You took a step back from him, holding your fingers up to your temple in disbelief. You’d heard of force healing before but assumed it was either a myth or a nearly lost practice only wielded by the most masterly of Jedi.

“Go back to your chambers and rest. You have a long ordeal ahead of you.” He leaves your question unanswered and marches out of the observatory as quickly as he entered it.

You’re compelled to follow his commands so you retreat to your chambers, forcing yourself to drink the healing tea Sabe concocted after having decided it was easier than explaining the bizarre experience you’d had. That was the dark Sith Lord that struck terror into the hearts of everyone who faced him? Ruthless, soulless, devoid of all human compassion- and channelling force healing to ease your headache? You spent all afternoon writhing in confusion, all the way up until a neatly packaged box was left on the doorstep of your assigned room. Upon closer inspection, the box contained an intricate white lace dress, paired with a beaded, scallop hemmed headpiece. A wedding outfit.

Standing at the forefront of the cold metallic arena, you twiddled with the sleeves on your dress- the material itching terribly and making your skin crawl. In a way, you were glad to have something occupy your mind beyond the impending prospect of marrying a Sith brute. You wondered why he wore that clunky helmet- is he so hideously deformed he has to hide behind it lest people faint at the sight?

A frightened-looking man you can only assume is the officiator of this sham of a wedding is escorted through the heavily guarded gates and takes his place before you, not daring to make eye contact. Your body fills with dread at the familiar sound of heavy boots dragging along the steel plates of the floor. He doesn’t spare you a passing glance for even a moment, despite your stubborn resolution to face him for the entirety of the ceremony- you wanted to look deep into the supposedly merciless eyes of your new husband. There aren’t any vows, there’s no exchange of rings, no kiss to celebrate the union- just some legal jargon and a couple of witnesses. Although you can’t see him, you can feel Palpatine’s snake eyes burning into you, no doubt observing from another room to ensure his mysterious plan came to fruition.

“Follow me.” A stormtrooper orders you and begins to head back in the direction of your chambers. Confused, you allow him to escort you out of the hall as you see a cloaked figure approach Lord Vader out of the corner of your eye. You just about hear the Emperor’s gravelly voice hiss out the word “consummate” before the doors shut behind you and you’re carried away to the bedroom. For some reason, the thought of sex hadn’t crossed your mind- you assumed villains like him had interests that surpassed such blunt mortal affairs - but now standing in front of your 4-poster bed, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps again, reality sunk in. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat and lay on the bed, removing the first layer of your dress and remaining in a white negligee. “Just lie back and think of Onderon.” You thought.

Your whole body tensed as you observed him enter your joint chambers, completely walking past you and going to the connecting bathroom, door left ajar.

“I’m ready, Lord Vader.” You stiffly announce, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.

Hearing your words, he peers out of the doorway and although you can’t see his face, his body language seems perplexed.

“What are you doing?” He remarks accusingly.

“I-I’m…waiting for you to consummate our marriage. Like Palpatine wishes.” He scoffs at your comment- laughs even- and goes back into the bathroom.

“I will do nothing of the sort.” You hear him say.

Sitting up on the bed and dragging the covers over your exposed body, you’re bewildered.

“Oh, c-can Sith Lords not…?” You stutter, searching for an explanation.

“I assure you I’m perfectly capable.” He snaps back. “I just have no desire for the task.”

Although relief floods your body, you feel slightly offended at the presumption that lovemaking with you should be a task.

Just then, you hear a steamy hissing sound, followed by a loud thud. The figure emerges, back facing you without his layers of armour- donning a simple black shirt and black trousers. He wanders over to the window at the far end of the room, staring out into space.

“I’m sorry about your father.” He grunts after a while and you finally hear his voice- free from robotic static, with no menacing growl - just him, and it sounds beautiful.

“Don’t be.” You say sincerely, fixated on the back of his head. You notice he has dark blonde curls, gathering in tufts at the nape of his neck. “Come on, turn around.” You think, bracing yourself for what you might find.

“Alright, if you insist.” He remarks and you scowl in confusion- you didn’t say that out loud, did you?

He pivots round to face you and you feel as though someone has knocked the air from your lungs: he glares at you with mesmerising cobalt-blue eyes, embellished by abundantly thick lashes and even thicker eyebrows sitting atop his handsomely chiselled face. His cheekbones stand at attention, enhanced by his sculpted jawline, which works in perfect harmony with the rest of his body- even his collarbones are perfect. He’s full of sprightly vigour, he’s young even. You are floored and contemplate how anyone could hide such a face away in that clunky helmet.

“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He speaks, sensing the utter shock his appearance has inflicted on you.

“You…you’re-” You stutter.

“Not hideously deformed?”

“-beautiful.”

He raises his bushy eyebrows disapprovingly and you scold yourself for being so forthright. He may be devilishly handsome, but that doesn’t mean you can swoon over him. He’s a monster, remember? Sure, he has the most seductive pair of lips you’d ever seen on a man - all plump and the perfect shade of pink- and sure, he’s sparked a desire within you that you don’t think you’d ever felt before but…where were you going with this?

“I’m going to sleep in the adjoining room, you can take my chambers.” You’re snapped out of your dreamy haze by his velvety voice as he begins to walk away.

“Wait! Y-you don’t have to, I’m sure the bed is uncomfortable over there.”

“No, it’s perfectly fine.” He continues marching away.

“Wait! The bed here is more than big enough for the both of us, we wouldn’t even touch.” You stumble over your words, melting under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Do you want me to sleep with you, Princess?” His movement comes to a halt and you’re rendered speechless. “Because that really would be something. Captured and brutalised after all that you hold dear is set alight, forced to marry a servant of evil- and then you request his company in your bed? That would be deranged. You’re not deranged now, are you Princess?”

Your mouth goes dry at the snarky way in which he’s talking to you- you admit it sounds mad out loud but the situation is more complicated than he thinks.

“N-no.” You mutter, barely above a whisper.

“Good, I wouldn’t want to find out I’ve married damaged goods.” He remarks impertinently. “I’m retiring for the evening- and I am not to be disturbed.” With that, he slams the door between you shut and you slide down your headboard, consumed by embarrassment, shame, desire. His dastardly good looks have really thrown a spanner into the works.

You barely managed to get any sleep that night, much like every night the week following the wedding. Your dreams were plagued by visions- of your father, of your captors, of your husband. Before your seizure, you already knew your future would hold a forced marriage; although an even less desirable one. Your father had plans to marry you off to your cousin, a brainless specimen by the name of Fester who was too dim-witted to even realise he was being used as a pawn in the family’s bloodline feud.

Despite your many attempts to plead and beg your way out of this union, your father dismissed you entirely- even going so far as to sanction you to the confines of your stuffy quarters, striking you remorselessly when you defied his orders.

You’d spent a lifetime dreamily peering out of your windows, waiting to be liberated by a saviour that never came- at least not in the way you thought.

Lord Vader was never present, aside from a very brief juncture in the evenings, when he would pass through your chambers on the way to his bedroom. You tried to make conversation but he either stared at you with dead, unamused eyes or flat-out ignored you. Asking him what he did during his working hours was not one of the things you tried to speak about- much preferring to stay in ignorant bliss- and he was more than happy to not be at the receiving end of your questions for once.

Growing increasingly tired of questioning your purpose on this wretched behemoth of a ship, you took the liberty of posting yourself outside his bedroom that night, waiting to block his exit until he at least acknowledged your existence. You’re ashamed to admit that you selected your nightwear especially for him- tonight choosing to wear the thinnest of slip dresses in the pathetic hopes that he might be drawn in by your pert chest.

As is routine, you hear the doors to your chambers swing open and are greeted with the welcome sight of the young Lord, who strides over to you intimidatingly. Removing his helmet and towering before you, you gulp at not just the height difference- but the sheer broadness of his shoulders compared to your slender ones.

“Move.” He states, glaring at you unaffectedly.

“No. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You stubbornly huff and you think you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“You don’t give the orders around here, Princess.” He asserts as he lifts you up by the waist with ease and drops you out of his way like you were a meagre traffic obstruction. You’re filled with disbelief as he enters his room, shutting the door in your face. “At least he didn’t slam it tonight.” You ponder.

Slouching down the door defeatedly, you pout as you hear him undress, desperately in need of an explanation.

“Please.” You plead pitiably, not expecting him to hear you.

You almost fall to the floor as your backrest swings open, and you lift your head to see him, sighing above you.

“What is it?”

“I-I just wanna know some things.” You mutter, cradling your knees on the floor.

“Then talk.” He taps his foot impatiently.

“Well uh- for starters, why am I here?” You rise from the floor to face him. “Why did Palpatine want you to marry me?”

“He wants me to sire a son- to ensure his plans can be carried out should I be otherwise indisposed.” He looks away coldly.

“I don’t understa-“

“Palpatine will live into his 200s. I am only human. If I am killed, he wants another apprentice to bend to his will, one just as strong with the force.”

“So why haven’t you attempted to do any siring yet?” He looks at you with a look of intense shock, disgust even. Of all the things he’s said, you take issue with his lack of action in the bedroom.

“I refuse to participate in this charade. He’ll see that you’re barren after a while- and we’ll dispose of you accordingly.”

“But I’m not barren.” You interject, dismissing the latter part of his sentence.

“It would be in your best interests to pretend you are.” You’re beguiled by his smooth voice and find yourself yearning to hear it all night. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company, hopefully with them in attendance you’ll be less inclined to seek my attention.”

“Another handmaiden? Ah, spare me- the current one is more than irritating enough on her own.” You shudder at the thought of 2 Sabes, prattling in your ear all day.

“No, I’ve ordered for the capture of your former attendant. I believe you were quite fond of him- Silas, is it?”

Your heart seizes, he’s alive? More importantly, he’s being brought to you? You stare at the scowling face of your husband, who looks afraid you might try to do something overly affectionate.

“A purely self-indulgent measure. To prevent any future ambushes like the one tonight.” He backtracks, attempting to impose some distance but you disregard it entirely. “If that’s not enough to keep you occupied, you can also have access to my private library - Silas will be waiting for you there tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” You whisper, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping your arms against his waist, face snugly pressed into his firm chest. You feel him tense up at the intrusion, but he relaxes ever so slightly with an exhale, hovering his arms above your own- careful not to let them touch lest he give you the impression he’s embracing you back.

“Call me Anakin.” He mumbles softly.

You wake up the next day, your chest feeling lighter than it has in years. Bounding out of bed, you instil deep confusion in Sabe, who enters your room with fresh clothes.

“Having a good morning?” She asks.

“I think actually, yes. Yes, I am.” You reply resolutely, allowing her to dress you without your usual complaints as she tightens your corset.

“Might this have anything to do with Lord Vader?” She raises an eyebrow, consumed with curiosity.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I see that my new life might not be so bad after all. I believe I have someone waiting for me, you’re dismissed for now, Sabe.” You waltz out of your chambers to the library that Anakin mentioned you were granted entrance to.

You enter the room and stare in wonder at the rows upon rows of polished shelves, furnished with all kinds of large, leather-bound books. Among the volumes of publications is a tall, spindly man- standing with his back turned.

“Silas!” You cry out and dart towards him, colliding against him in a tight embrace.

“Princess! Let me look at you, are you hurt?” He grabs your face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises.

“No, no I’m perfectly fine!” You smile.

“How could you possibly be fine? I heard about the wedding- it’s a scandal, it’s a disgrace! The intergalactic senate will hear about this- I promise I will get you out!“

“Silas, it’s okay, I’m being treated well here.” Your reply sends him into a stunned silence.

“You’ve been married to a Sith Lord. A princess of the purest blood made to intermingle with the lap dog of the Emperor. I don’t even want to think about what you’ve been forced to do here to survive.” He shudders.

“I haven’t been made to do anything. And Anakin really isn’t that bad once you get to know him a little.”

“Anakin?” Silas almost breaks out in hives at what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, that’s his real name. And oh, Silas, he’s so handsome!” You clamber on, reading the titles off a nearby bookshelf and digging for something that might take your fancy.

“I don’t believe this. One week under captivity and you’ve been brainwashed already.” He takes his head into his hands.

“I haven’t been brainwashed.” You chuckle. “Anakin is the one who brought you here. Just for me. And he lets me have the nicest quarters on the ship- and I’m allowed private access to the whole library!” You gush.

“So he’s built you a very pleasant cage. Fantastic. Just because your prison has a nice interior doesn’t make it your home.”

“Well, it’s no less of a prison than Onderon was. At least in this one, my marriage isn’t incestuous.” Silas’s eyes widen beyond measure at the boldness of your statement and he takes a seat before he collapses.

“He used the force to heal me when I was in pain.”

“And what caused you to be hurt in the first place?” He snaps back accusingly.

“Silas, listen to me.” You kneel beside him, taking his hand into your own. “I’ve spent too many years worrying about the fate of my future, cursing the Maker for how little control I had over my own destiny. No more. I can only take life as it comes in small waves- I have relinquished control. This is my new home now.”

With a heavy sigh, Silas nods- looking away as if unable to process your revelation.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You say, mischievous twinkle in your eye.

The remainder of the day is spent flicking through various books, amassing a pile of them in your bedroom so high that you could barely see Sabe’s head poking through when she entered.

“Um, m’lady? If you won’t be requiring anything else for the night, can I retire? Silas and I were thinking of wandering down to the observatory by my quarters…”

“Of course, Sabe, enjoy.” You chuckle as she meekly smiles and exits your room. You knew they’d hit it off, one perennial chatterbox with another. Flicking through the last page of the first edition volume of The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise, you hummed discontentedly. “What a terrible ending.” You thought as you inspected the piles on your floor for the second volume. You suspect you must’ve left it in the library when you were packing your books onto the trolley so you wrap a thin robe around yourself and march down the hall. You notice the lights already burning as you enter the library cautiously, peering your head through to see Anakin, sitting on an armchair and reading something out of a thick, metal-encased manual.

“What’s your book about?” You query as you approach him slowly.

“It’s a story about a very naughty princess who loves to go looking for trouble.” He sneers, lip curling up into the shadow of a smile.

“No, it’s not!” You titter as you pry over the bind, seeing various starfighter diagrams and mechanical cross-sections.

“What do you want now?” He shuts the book promptly.

“I just came to collect something I left behind.” You reply innocently.

“I trust you’re enjoying my collection, then.” He looks up at you for the first time and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his dreamy eyes.

“Oh yes, it’s very impressive. I didn’t think Sith Lords read so much.”

“They don’t.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to a nearby shelf and picking out a specific book. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.” He throws the book in your direction and you catch it; observing the cover, you speculate it’s some kind of historical tale about a lost civilisation.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to read it.” You tuck it under your arm. “Are you retiring for the night yet?”

“Yes, I’ll leave the library to you.” He gets up to leave but you stand in front of him.

“I was only here to get something, escort me back?” You ask and he looks you up and down before making a low grunting sound, something you can only assume is a sign of acceptance. He heads out the door and you follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

“I never got to thank you.” You say as you enter your chambers, seizing the short moment you have to converse before he disappears into his bedroom.

“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” He rolls his eyes.

“For rescuing me.” You reach out to touch him by the arm but back down, courage failing you.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“No, really. My circumstances back home were…less than ideal.” You stare down at your feet.

“I admit I find it peculiar that you don’t seem to be in mourning.” He notes, more intrigue in his tone than you’re used to.

“Would you be in mourning over a man who oppressed and rebuked you at every turn?”

“I see. I suppose that explains your…unorthodox behaviour.” For the very first time, he takes a seat on the chaise lounge by your bed- does he actually want to have this conversation with you?

“I guess you could say that. After he locked me up in the palace and forced me to accept my cousin’s betrothal, I abandoned all hope for the future and resigned myself to perpetual misery. And then you came along.” He squints his eyes, looking almost frustrated with your positivity.

“Are you sure you understand the situation you’ve found yourself in? You’re aware you’ve been abducted- forced to spend every day locked up here, never to see your planet or familiars again? Forced to play wife to me?” He gawks incredulously.

“You’re not as bad as you make out.” You smile at him. “And you’re certainly very easy on the eyes.” You look for changes in his demeanour but it remains unaffected. “Would you have preferred it if I was terrified and unwilling to go near you?”

“Terrified? Of course not, the thought of it sickened me. Unwilling to go near me? I’m not sure I’d mind.” He states and you wonder if that was his way of making a joke. “I regret that you’ve been ensnared into this. I wish it could’ve been different.”

“I don’t.” You pluck up the courage to sit beside him, placing your hand on his leg. “I can see there’s goodness within you. It’s almost tangible in the way you treat me.”

“Clearly I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He mutters gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. “And you can stop wearing those little dresses around me. All you’re going to succeed in doing is get frostbite.” He pushes your hand off him.

“Do you find me that repulsive?” You question sharply, tired of being made to feel undesirable. “I’ve been told my looks rival that of some of the fairest Princesses in the galaxy. Is a man like yourself so completely cold to the affections of women?”

“I fail to see how that is relevant.” He dismisses.

“It’s relevant because I’m tired of my bed being cold. You chose to marry me, now act like a husband!”

“What choice? I had no choice!” He shouts back and your blood runs cold when he stands towering over you.

“That makes two of us. But I fail to see what good can come from sulking about it.” You lower your tone.

“You’re that desperate, huh?” He sneers condescendingly.

“So what if I am?” You throw caution to the wind, fully aware of the way you’re debasing yourself right now; after the breadcrumbs of affection he’d been giving you, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine.” He says, making his way over to the bed, ripping off his shirt.

“W-what are you doing?” You murmur as he undresses and positions himself in the middle of your stately bed.

“I’m ready, Princess.” He mocks, parroting what you’d said to him on your wedding night. “You wanted to fuck me, right? Well here I am. At your royal disposal.”

“N-not like this.” You mutter, trying not to stare at his firm pecs or chiselled abdomen.

“What’s the matter? You’ve been prancing around in those little dresses all week, practically begging me to give you a scrap of my attention and now I’m in our marital bed, you’re too scared?”

“I’m not scared, I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on you.” You mutter quietly, drained of all confidence.

“You’re worried about all the wrong things. Palpatine told me to brutalise you to within an inch of your life, you know that? To take all my anger out on you and make you pay for the sins of your family. And you’re worried about whether you’re taking advantage of me. I fear I have been too soft. You seem to forget who you’re speaking to.”

“But you didn’t.” You sniffle.

“What?”

“But you didn’t do those things. You’re a good man, Anakin.” Your voice softens and you climb up the bed to join him, allowing your gaze to linger on the small line of blonde curling hair starting from his belly button, travelling down to what lay underneath his underwear.

“No. I haven’t quite lost all my humanity.” He breathes heavily, seemingly noticing your staring.

“Let me show you my appreciation.” You bit your lip and bravely met his intense gaze. He doesn’t respond, the only noticeable reaction being his eyes wandering down to your breasts, thin material doing little to conceal your pert nipples.

“Do you wish to see me?” You ask, fingers toying with the straps as he huffs slightly, acting as though this were beneath him- but still remaining silent. You shrug the material off, revealing your round, perky breasts to him. You think you can see something twitching in his boxers but you can’t be sure.

“Can I?” You ask, gesturing to sit on his lap but he remains speechless. “Please, my Lord, I need to hear you-“

“Yes.”

A grin spreads across your face as you mount him, completely bare. Putting your hands on his chest, you move your hips a little to feel him. Not that you were expecting any less for a man of his stature, but you felt yourself getting soaked at his formidable size; he was surely 8 inches, and just as satisfyingly thick. Your eyes fall to his pretty face and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him all over. Reaching down to plant small kisses over his temple and cheeks, you feel him stiffen even more.

“What are you doing?” He grumbles.

“Shut up and kiss me.” You pant as you capture his lips in a soft kiss, brushing them against each other. You can feel him almost fighting the urge to hold you so you take the initiative and grab him by the jaw, kissing him deeply and passionately. You think you hear a moan slip out of his mouth but when you pull away, he’s still got the same cold expression on his beautiful face- brows slightly furrowed and lips pursed in disaffection.

“If you’re waiting for me to make a move, it’s not going to happen.” He sighs, looking fatigued. A quiet rage simmers within you. You’ve had suitors lining up at the palace gates since you were a teenager and now this glorified servant is behaving as though he is the prize. You craved the chance to teach him not to underestimate you, to make him see you were special. “On another occasion, perhaps.” You thought. Tonight, you just wanted to make him writhe beneath you.

“If you’re going to be making snarky comments all evening, I’m going to stuff my panties in your mouth to silence you.”

“What panties? You didn’t wear any.” He grins and your chest sets alight. However brief it was, it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile. His teeth were pearly and straight, and his smile broad enough to reach across his whole face in a bright, radiant flash. You felt like your day had gotten better just by being witness to it.

“Why do you always do that?” He breaks your trance.

“Huh, do what?”

“Disassociate. You stare right through me when you do it.”

“M’sorry. I can’t help it.” You feel a fierce shyness overcome you.

“You find me that handsome?”

“Yes.” You whisper. You have no idea why you’re admitting to it.

“Is that why you don’t mind being married to me?” He continues and you’re confused by the volume of questions coming your way- it’s more than he’s talked to you all week.

“Partly.” He smirks a little at the ego boost and places his hands on the back of his neck, arm muscles flexing as they’re extended. You trail a line from the centre of his chest down to his abdomen with the tip of your index finger, stopping as you reach the band of his boxers. You look up at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to go further. Toying with the band for a little while, you steel yourself and pull them down in one prompt motion. You have to hold in a wince as you take it in- in all its thick, veiny glory. With a shuddery breath, you savour the view before you: his strong, toned arms trailed down to his athletic torso, v-line achingly defined and sloping down to his large, pink-tipped member. “Even his dick is pretty.” You mentally cursed. His smirking, confident simper never faltered, not feeling a fragment of insecurity for even a moment.

Knowing you weren’t going to get any warming up from him, you lifted your hips and angled yourself up, tip kissing your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly sunk down on him, lowering yourself gradually until your bare skin brushed against the curls around the base of his cock. He shuts his eyes for a moment and exhales lightly, pretty lips forming into a small o shape. You try to subdue the overwhelming feeling of being filled so deeply, not wanting to stroke his ego even more than you already have. You begin to move, riding him very slowly and focusing on his chest as it rises and falls, eyes watering at the sensation of being stretched out. Worrying that he’s going to question why you’re going so slow, you begin to speed up even though it aches.

“Slow down.” He speaks softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“As if you care.” You huff.

“Don’t get on my bad side, Princess.” He shoots you a deadly glance and you slow back down, knowing better than to disobey him. It takes you a good while to accommodate to his size, oo’s and aa’s escaping your mouth every time you straighten up and sink down on his cock a little too deeply- but after the adjustment period, you start to ride him confidently. Your tits bounce with a hypnotising jiggle as you smack the flesh of your ass against his thighs, wetness drenching you both. Noticing how his arms lay by his side, you grab him by the wrist and lay them on your hips. He grips onto them slightly for a moment, but quickly releases and lets them fall back down to his sides. You whine a little, starved of affection. You were bouncing on his cock yet you still felt like you weren’t close.

“Please?” You moan.

“You wanted this, not me. I said I’m not participating, didn’t I?” His voice rings out, completely unaffected while you were a panting mess.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not- ah- enjoying it. F-feels good, doesn’t it?” You stutter, feeling his tip prodding that spongy spot within you that threatens to be your undoing.

“It’s fine.” He replies, still refusing to engage in any meaningful way.

“Oh come on, Anakin! Give me something.” You feel like you’re one snarky comment away from resorting to begging.

“I’ve given you my cock. What more do you want out of me?”

“I want you to talk to me, I want you to touch me. To be present!”

“And I want for my wife to not be such a whore.” Your mouth gapes open at his harsh words, but you continue bouncing, getting too close to stop now. “I mean seriously, you’re being held hostage and all you can think about is getting fucked? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours other than visions of me fucking you, is there? I’ve seen them.”

You moan at his degrading words- if you weren’t so cock drunk, you might be ashamed of the way you’re allowing him to speak to you.

“Oh my God, are you gonna cum from me talking down to you? Does me calling you a stupid whore get you off?” He rambles and you can’t stop yourself from turning into a whimpering mess, moans spilling out at every turn and unintelligible groans flooding the room as you bounce on his cock.

He reaches up towards you and you think he might be pulling you in for a kiss but instead, he hooks his fingers into the corners of your mouth, stretching it out. You babble out disjointed syllables, too overwhelmed to establish a rhythm that isn’t completely sloppy.

“The fuck are you even saying right now?” He laughs and oh god, there’s that smile again- if his cock wasn’t enough, now his grin is making your legs feel like jelly.

“What are these dumb little sounds you’re spluttering out? You sound like an idiot.” The lewd squelching noises increase in intensity as you fall apart on top of him in a sudden climax- pleasure hitting you like a truck and nearly knocking you out. You pant on top of him, trying to catch your breath with your head resting on his chest. He clears his throat after a minute and you shuffle off him, laying your head on the nearby pillow instead.

“Wow. That was…did you not cum?” It occurs to you that you’d just used him for your own pleasure.

“Of course not.” He gruffly responds, legs still spread and cock exposed, glistening with your arousal. “I have self control.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask and he turns to face you.

“You’re like a bitch in heat. It’s not very princess-like of you.”

“Well, I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Sith Lord’s wife.” You counter.

“Wives don’t ride like that.” You know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but you chose to take it as one anyway.

“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You point at his exposed body while you clutch the crisp white sheets around yourself.

“Why should I?” He snaps back and you’re taken aback by his show of confidence. And you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, I bet you aren’t.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that! It’s unnatural.” You complain.

“I don’t ordinarily pay such close attention to these things but your mind is so dirty.”

“Oh yeah? What have I been thinking about in the last couple minutes then?”

“You’ve been wondering how I’m both a shower and a grower, how you’ve never been so wet before - oh, and how you want to fuck me again.” Your cheeks redden at his painfully accurate observations- and you feel his vulgarity plant a renewed desire within you.

“Really, you want another round? Fine. Hop on.” He sighs, tapping his thigh. You stare at him affectionately with a smile as if to say “really?” and you clamber over him again. You only have to press your dripping body against him once and he quickly hardens again, tip oozing with precum. You waste no time impaling yourself, pussy swallowing him greedily- slightly sore but still stretched out enough to take him with ease.

“Anakin, please.” You mumble, reaching for his hands- needing to feel them on your skin.

“What do you want?” He replies breathily.

“Please, touch me.” You slide up and down his shaft, body racked with delirious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease - please Anakin!” He scoffs smilingly at how you’ve been reduced to a needy mess before he’s even put an ounce of effort in. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees and beg- please, touch me just a little, please Ani-“

“Alright, alright, enough!” He stops you and you wince at his harsh tone, wishing that just for once, he’d be gentle with you.

“I’m sorry, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He reaches out and wraps his hands around your dainty waist, right arm gradually trailing up your body. His knuckles brush against your cheek tenderly before he wraps his strong hand around your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss. You squeak in shock at the unexpected affection as your breasts press against his chest, one hand squishing your soft flesh and the other wrapped up in your hair.

“Mmm, Ani.” You hum, your deepest craving finally quelled.

“No one’s called me that in a really long time.” He mumbles into the kiss, sliding both hands down to your ass cheeks and gripping them firmly.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks as he slides you on and off him, commanding your movements with his strong grasp.

“Oh God yes, fuck Ani- ah.” You gasped as he began lifting his hips and fucking his cock into you, fingernails digging into your hips. “‘m not gonna last much longer if you keep go -oh, just like th- aah.”

“You don’t need to.” He whines, finally allowing himself to utter his own sweet sounds.

“Nuh uh, I-I want you to cum with me.” You whimper in his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. Cradling you, he wraps one arm around your back and rests his other hand on the back of your head while drilling you with such vigour you almost black out.

“Shh, baby, shh- ’s okay.” He moans and your walls flutter at the heavenly sound. Try as you may, you can’t stop the drool that streams out of your mouth, fucked so dumb that you’re losing control over your senses.

“You’re close, can feel you gripping me.” He sputters, barely audible over the sound of your squeals. “You want the whole ship to hear you, huh?”

“I want them all to know who I belong to.” You manage to get out clearly, trying to get a handle on your faculties. Rising up from being tucked into his neck, you start bouncing on him with the excitement of a little bunny, so desperate to bring him to his release. You look down at him, eyes screwed shut, gnawing on his bottom lip and you feel how furiously his eager cock throbs inside you.

“Want you to fill me up.” You warble, dropping your hands to lay on either side of his face, soft locks brushing against your wrists. “I wanna be yours.” You stare into his eyes, which have just fluttered open, eyebrows knitted close together.

“You’re already mine.” He whispers, grabbing you by the waist and turning you over in one swift motion, your back hitting the plumpness of the bed. Before you can take a breath, he slams into you again and your back arches from the overstimulation.

Hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you deeper into him, he roughly pounds against you, cock gliding into your sensitive core. You try to focus yourself, gnawing on your lip and mentally repeating: “You can’t cum this quickly again.”

“Oh yes, you can.” He asserts mischievously, speeding up his sloppy strokes until your eyes roll to the back of your head. You grip the sheets around you, trying desperately to hold on for just a few seconds longer.

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, slapping against you roughly. Beads of sweat trickle down his defined pecs, down to the creamy mess where your bodies meet. With one final gloopy thrust, you scream out his name and collapse entirely, body convulsing with pleasure as he moans at the sight, burying his face into your thigh.

“Goddamn…” You hear him mutter as he continues using your body like a toy, dragging you onto him in a way that you don’t even notice in your cock drunk stupor. You hear a glorious groan escape his lips as he pulls out, painting your body with his creamy white cum.

“Why’d you pull out?” You whine, completely spent and feeling woefully empty now that your bodies weren’t connected anymore.

“You know why.” He exhales as his head hits the pillow beside you. “I refuse to let a child come into this.” You huff a little but feel too exhausted to argue.

Shuffling over, you test his boundaries by leaning your head against his shoulder. When he noticeably stiffens and backs away a little, you sit up hastily to face him.

“Really, Anakin? You’re still not comfortable around me?”

“I’m as comfortable as I need to be.” He murmurs and you let out a fussy whine.

“I’ve just given myself to you entirely and you can’t even hold me after? Please, Ani, you’re making me feel really-“

“Fine! If it’ll get you to be quiet.” He pulls you in swiftly, his strong arm wrapped around you protectively and you let out a satisfied hum while he shakes his head- no doubt wondering how he got stuck with such a petulant child.

The days that followed were full of you waltzing around the ship, lost in your daydreams. Anakin had been dispatched to a different system for a mission and much to your displeasure, wouldn’t return for several days yet; you never knew exactly how long his journeys would last, you only knew they were doubtlessly too long. You missed him dearly - and if the way he hugged you back before he left was any indication- you were growing on him too.

After enthusiastically getting through the book Anakin recommended, he told you that he’d left a stack out by his desk in the library- a personally hand-picked selection that he believed you’d enjoy. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you felt yourself keenly gliding over to it. You reminisced fondly about the way his soft hair felt when it brushed through your hands, how his dreamy eyes made you weak at the knees- how he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You didn’t realise it was possible for someone to be so perfect- so what if he had an unsavoury pastime? It was a flaw you were willing to overlook if it meant you got to wake up next to that face.

Entering the library, you hum a chirpy song and float over to the desk where you find a neat pile of books in varying colours and sizes. Just as you were about to pick the first one out of the stack, Silas rushes in- scruffy and disorganised, looking over his shoulder.

“Princess! Princess, you must hurry. They’re here- they’re finally here.” He sputters, grabbing onto your wrist like a madman and leading you out.

“Slow down! What’s going on?” You question, wondering why you were running along with him.

“Oh but we must be quick, the stormtroopers can only be held off for so long! Sabe is leading the distraction-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Word finally reached them, they’re finally here!”

“Who? Who’s here?” You shout back, brain spinning in confusion.

“The Senate has sent an army - a rescue team for you!” Silas stares at you with crazed eyes, sweating with anxiety. “We can finally go home!”

“W-what?” You stutter, allowing him to lead you out to the docking bay where you can see a battleship undoubtedly belonging to the Galactic Republic- suspended midair awaiting boarding.

“Wait, wait, no.” You backtrack but the grip Silas has around your wrist is too strong to easily break from.

“You don’t mean to tell me you wish to stay here with that brute?” He glances back at you, face painted with disgust as he pushes on for the last few metres left until you reach the ship. “He doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” You shout, propellers buzzing over you with a furious intensity.

“Is that so? Then why isn’t he putting up a fight right now?” He gestures behind you and you turn around to where the observatory window is. There he is, standing behind the glass, looking at you calmly.

“Do you see? He doesn’t even care enough to stop you!” Silas digs his fingernails into your wrist as you reach the ship, doors unloading with a steamy hiss. “Get in!” He yells, pushing you forward with all his might.

He’s letting you go. He’s letting you leave.

“No!” You fight back, striking Silas across the face and sprinting out of his reach as soon as his grasp on you loosens.

“You idiot! Stay here and rot with those Sith devils!” He curses, clambering up the stairs and smacking the handle, signalling for them to shut. Tears course roughly down your face as you stand back and see the ship ascending before darting off into the distance in a beaming flash. Turning around, you run as fast as your feet will carry you, scrambling up to the observatory to the man you’d just abandoned life as you knew it for.

Throwing the doors open, you see him: mouth parted, eyebrows raised and a singular tear rolling down his cheekbone. You jump into his arms, colliding and entangling yourself with him.

“Why did you do that, huh?!” He grabs your face with both hands, kissing you desperately. “Why would you do something so stupid?” You break out into a sob as he mumbles against your lips. “I would’ve let you go, you could’ve left.”

“I know, that’s why I stayed.” You wrap your hands around his own, still in a firm grip around your face. “I love you, Ani.” You gaze up at him with such adoration he feels his cold heart bursting.

“I love you too.”

As soon as the words leave his beautiful lips, you leap to kiss them- trying desperately to memorise every detail and every sensation that belonged to this moment.

“I-I thought you would’ve surely left if you could.” He murmurs, struggling to break away from your lips. “Thought you were jus’ making the most out of a bad situation.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You say sincerely, hoping he could feel the love you have for him pouring out of you.

“I don’t believe my eyes.” A dreaded raspy voice resonates across the room. “The Princess has fallen in love with my apprentice. And he seems to love her back? Now this is just precious.” Anakin stands in front of you protectively, pushing you back.

“She will prove to be useful in the future.” The Emperor hisses, glaring at you with an empty hunger in his eyes. “Now that she has demonstrated her loyalty.”

“It’s the last show of loyalty you’ll ever see.” Anakin spits as he draws his lightsaber from the left belt hook on his robes and strikes Palpatine, beheading him in one swift motion before he can even register what’s struck him.

“He always taught me that even the most powerful of enemies can be defeated-“ He turns to face you, retracting his glowing lightsaber. “with the element of surprise.”

A twisted grin creeps up on your face as he swoops you up like a true bride- lifting you with a firm hold and carrying you out of the room while you wrap your arms around his neck, planting kisses all over.

“I think it’s high time me and my wife got some privacy, don’t you think?” He gestures at the incoming stormtroopers, who confusedly back away after spotting Palpatine’s decapitated body. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You giggle as he carries you to your chambers, throwing you onto the bed and peering out of the large doors one last time before shutting them with a loud clamber- ah, free from disturbance at last.

@erinkeifer @crazy4men @mortalheartache @arzua10

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