#adin'ala | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atekkalegacy · 3 years

Text

the betrayal of the wrath

pairing: adin’ala (f!sith warrior)/malavai quinn words: 3900 ish warnings: character death, typical sith violence

Malavai Quinn severely underestimates the lethality of his lover and the hostility of her sister.

“My lord,” Quinn bowed to Ju’arna, nodding to Adin’ala, “My love. I would be honoured to travel planetside with you, if you'll have me.”

“We’re still hours away, Malavai,” Adin’ala hummed, but stood when there was a crash and the unmistakable noise of a Talz. “I’ll handle the little beast,” she sighed, leaving the room.

Ju’arna stared at Quinn. Her sister had asked her not to climb inside her crew’s minds, and Ju’arna would oblige, but just her gaze was making Quinn shift uncomfortably.

There was an air about him she didn't like. Something important to him, which he kept secret. Something he wouldn't dare utter… how delicious. She wished she could pry it out of him, leave him crying and pleading, a shell of a man, but Adin’ala enjoyed his company. What a shame.

“You can't hide from me, Quinn,” she said lightly, smiling as the man gave a small nod, “You’d be wise to remember that.”

Another crash, followed by a shout, rang through the ship, and in mere moments, Adin’ala returned. She sat back down beside her sister, one hand fixing her hair back into place.

“I don't like that beast,” she sighed, “I thought he would be fun, with his bloodthirst and all, but he really seems a mockery of it.”

“Don’t forget his smell,” Ju’arna scoffed, “I should order that housekeep droid of yours to deep clean the ship, but I fear the smell will never come out.”

“What do you think, dear?” Adin’ala turned her attention to Quinn, who clearly wanted to be anywhere but in that room. “Would a deep clean help?”

“Undoubtedly,” he nodded, “And I can see if I can’t arrange for the Talz to bathe. I’m sure there's a way to stop him from stinking up the ship, my lord.”

“Good,” Adin’ala sighed, leaning back in her chair, “You're a good man, Malavai. I’ll take you planetside, I promise.”

“Thank you, my lord,” he bowed and excused himself. Quinn wondered if anyone else could feel the heaviness in the air, more dangerous than it usually felt. Something about Ju’arna, about her warning, was making him uneasy.

There's no way she could have known. Quinn was careful and meticulous, and surely Darth Baras would’ve sensed if Quinn was in danger. Maybe she was simply worried for her sister— she was distrustful of everyone, but the man who held her sister's fancy? That was cause for suspicion, surely.

Malavai tried to convince himself that’s all it was, Ju’arna’s worry for her twin, but the sinking feeling in his stomach and the electric crackle in the air remained.

“Wait here,” Adin'ala hummed, taking her lightsabers and flicking them on. Quinn wouldn't disobey, but he was surprised when Ju’arna remained with him. One would expect she would seek out bloodshed the same way Adin’ala did. Once Adin’ala disappeared into the building, blasterfire sounding, Quinn swallowed hard. Ju’arna was making no effort to hide the raw power that seeped into every pore when she was beside someone.

“You're scared of me,” Ju’arna smiled, “Good. I can feel the fear dripping off of you.”

“I have nothing but respect for you, my lord,” Quinn said, straightening his back and looking at the door Adin’ala had closed behind her. “I’d simply prefer if Lord Adin’ala didn't lock herself in dangerous places without one of us with her.”

“One of us?” Ju’arna repeated, “You think you could do anything to protect her that she could not do herself? Don't lie to me, Quinn. I’m getting sick of your lies. I really do wonder what the walls would look like painted with your insides.”

The door slid open. Adin’ala stepped out, smiling. There was a streak of green blood across the sith’s face, and she was breathing heavily, but the smile on her face remained. She wasn't wounded, at least. Behind her, Quinn caught a glimpse of the bodies that littered the floor, marks in the metal walls from lightsabers still glowing.

“I hope I didn't miss anything,” Ju’arna looked her sister over. Adin'ala shook her head, putting her lightsabers on her belt once more.

“Nothing interesting, and it wasn't much fun,” she said, turning to Quinn. “I found this for you,” he took the datapad from her hands, mumbling a thanks that drifted off as she kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, my lord,” he tried again, smiling a little. With his sleeve, he wiped the blood off of her face, and she stood patiently while he did so. Anyone else, and she would have destroyed them for attempting to touch her, but she trusted Malavai. He knew that.

“You had something to do, Ju’arna?” Adin’ala asked, her gaze still on Quinn until she could finally tear herself away from him. “Let’s do it quickly. I’m hungry and I saw the cutest little eatery near the spaceport.”

Malavai took a deep breath, closing his eyes as Adin’ala curled up beside him, wrapping an arm around him while she hid her face in his shirt. It was silent for a few moments, neither of them moving, no sounds besides their breathing.

“You’re tense,” Adin’ala whispered, not moving from her comfortable position, “What’s wrong, my little man?”

No time like the present. Quinn sighed, running his hand lazily up and down the sith lord’s arm. In their time together, he found that his touch could pacify her in ways nothing else could. She would calm if he was beside her, and without Ju’arna looking over her shoulder, she could be malleable.

“I don’t say this to offend, my lord,” Malavai started, but Adin’ala chuckled, shaking her head and nuzzling against his chest.

“It’s just me, Malavai,” she said softly, “What was that name you called me before? I liked that.”

Quinn nodded, a small smile spreading over his face. “Nala,” he whispered, and the woman pressed up against him sighed in some sort of bliss. What a strange person she was; bloodthirsty and mindlessly violent, a being of raw power who was deadlier than any other sith he has ever met, who liked nicknames and couldn’t sleep without hearing someone’s breathing.

“I don’t say this to offend, Nala,” he started again, “But I have my doubts about your sister.”

“My sister?” Adin’ala sat up, one hand on Quinn’s chest, a warning to watch his words in her eyes, “What are you talking about?”

“She keeps… threatening me. I fear she doesn't much care for me,” Malavai said, putting his hand over Adin’ala’s to hold it. Between that and his other hand on her arm, she appeared to be listening.

“She doesn't care for most people,” Adin’ala shrugged, leaning on her elbow. “What is she threatening you about?”

Malavai squeezed his lover’s hand. “Everything. She thinks I’m lying, Nala, and I’m led to believe… she doesn't support you the way you may think. I’m led to believe she doesn't support our relationship.”

Adin'ala took a deep breath, putting her head back against Malavai’s chest. How troublesome. Ju’arna was bound to have her own motives, her own goals, her own desires for power. Adin’ala wasn't at all surprised at the idea of Ju’arna disliking her relationship with Malavai, Ju’arna nearly told her as much when her flirting with the man became serious. But the seed of suspicion, the worry that Ju’arna’s plans didn't align with Adin’ala’s, had been planted in her mind.

“I hope she wouldn't be a threat to what we’re trying to accomplish,” Malavai continued, “After you kill Darth Baras, there is only one seat open on the Dark Council. It is rightfully yours, Nala, and I hope she wouldn't try to take it from you.”

“I’m not worried,” Adin’ala hummed, nuzzling against Malavai’s chest in her attempt to get comfortable again, “It’s a problem for another day, dear.”

“Malavai worries you don't like him,” Adin’ala pulled her lightsaber out of a body, letting it drop as she turned to face her sister.

Ju’arna scoffed, “Of course I don’t like him,” she snapped an incoming gang member's neck without having to touch them, and then gave her sister her full attention.

“You knew I didn't like him when you started toying with him,” she hummed, putting her lightsaber back on her belt, “And he's right to worry. I have a feeling about him, sister.”

“Oh?” Adin’ala put her weapons away, wiping blood off of her armour absently, “What sort of a feeling?”

“His loyalties lie elsewhere, I believe. I know for a fact that he lies to us,” Ju’arna started for the exit, her sister in tow.

“He says you threatened him,” Adin’ala mused, mulling over the facts in her head. Quinn had been threatened. Ju’arna had a bad feeling. Quinn was lying. Ju’arna could be out for herself. “Is that, perhaps, the reason for his lies?”

“No,” Ju’arna laughed. “He can't lie about being scared. He lies when he says things to you, to me, about his devotion to you.”

As the twin Sith Lords walked, their strides synchronized, their steps aligned, shoulder to shoulder, waking as one. They fought as one, walked as one, breathed as one, but for the first time in years, they weren't thinking as one.

“You believe he's not devoted to me?” Adin’ala asked, flicking her head to knock her dark hair away from her face. “He’s proven it ten times over. He's dreadfully in love with me, Arnie.”

“I think he has someone to devote himself to that’s not you, sister,” Ju’arna said carefully. She looked at Adin’ala, who rolled her eyes.

“Well, I think you're jealous of the attention I’m giving him,” she scoffed, “For the first time in our lives, I have someone that's not you, and you don't like that.”

“Trust me, Adin’ala, there is nothing he gets from you that I could want,” Ju’arna used her sister’s name coldly, and could see it had its desired effect on Adin’ala. The woman shook her head and started walking a little faster. She didn’t need Ju’arna manipulating her or her lover, it was useless anyway— Adin’ala knew her sister too well to be manipulated, which was perhaps why she still took her words with a grain of salt.

“Will your sister be a problem, Nala?” Quinn asked, setting a cup of caf down in front of Adin’ala. He had been awake for hours, and she had only just rolled out of bed. Jaesa was off causing trouble with Broonmark, Pierce and Vette were sent to run errands, and Ju’arna was planetside dealing with whatever business she didn’t need her sister for. They were alone.

“I don’t believe so,” Adin’ala took the cup, nursing it and staring into it, “But we aren’t thinking the same way anymore. I fear confronting her may have set her on her own path sooner than she intended. Perhaps I didn’t. I don’t have intuition like she does.”

“Well,” Quinn sighed, sitting beside the sith and rubbing her back, “Try not to dwell on it. When I find myself worrying, I try to pour myself into my work.”

“You’re right, dear, you so often are,” Adin’ala turned and planted a kiss on the man’s lips, smiling when she pulled away, “I’ll feel much better after I kill someone.”

While that wasn’t what Quinn had in mind, he nodded and kissed Adin’ala’s head, leaving her in the room to drink her caf and wake up on her own. They would be on Corellia in a matter of days, once they’d finished on Nar Shaddaa. If the sisters weren’t in sync, there was a chance their attacks would be less effective. Regardless of what Ju’arna would tell her sister, Quinn only needed Adin’ala’s trust until they approached Corellia.

He had realised long ago that targeting Adin’ala alone would be a bad idea. While it might be easier to defeat her, her death would only send Ju’arna on a rampage, knowing he was the cause of her demise. It was a better idea to keep them together, take them out in one shot. Quinn couldn’t think about it for too long. The idea of Adin’ala, wounded, bloody, motionless on the ground made him anxious, regret already running through his veins at just the thought of it. Besides that, Ju’arna would return to the ship soon, and Quinn was unsure if she could truly read minds or not. He couldn’t risk it. She wouldn’t hesitate to strike him down.

“Are you and your sister still travelling together, despite your disagreement?” Quinn asked his lover, who was checking something in the cockpit. She looked at him, and then back to her task.

“Yes, of course,” she said, calm and collected. She was so rarely calm. “Despite disagreements, we are still sisters, and we would not be the Wrath without the other. Why do you ask? Are you worried for me?”

“I— no, not worried. I’m just curious. The way you function, I would hate for you to be separated,” Quinn said, sitting down at the helm. “I admire how the two of you fight as one. I can understand why the Hand selected you.”

“We are very impressive,” Adin’ala smiled, leaning over the back of the chair to kiss Quinn’s cheek, “Don’t worry, Malavai. I know you’d protect me should Ju’arna be unable.”

“Of course, my lord,” he nodded, giving her a smile, “My life is devoted to you.”

It had been a lie. There was no blockade, no transponder, Adin’ala had been fooled and trapped, like a rodent, like prey. She was seething, waves of anger emanating from her, though she remained composed. Ju’arna stood beside her, looking more annoyed than her usual smug. Quinn would’ve expected her to gloat, but she kept glancing at her sister, as if she was worried about the woman falling to pieces.

“I must do this,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking.

“Darling, please,” Adin’ala said, disappointed, “I’ll have no fun hurting you.”

What hurt more than Quinn’s betrayal, his lies, his deception, was that Ju’arna was right all along. Ju’arna had warned Adin’ala, she knew this was going to happen, she told her that Quinn was a liar, and Adina’ala cast her aside and ignored her warning. She had been a fool, trusting a simple man more than her own blood.

“My lord, I do apologise, but this is necessary of me. Darth Baras asked—” Quinn was cut off.

“Baras!” Adin’ala snapped, the crackle of lightning in the air growing more intense and more oppressive, “You'll try to kill me for Baras? That traitorous coward is more important than me?”

He could tell she was unravelling. She was letting her anger build and build, her power growing every second, and when she attacked, the dam would burst. Quinn would be worried if he were not so confident in his droids.

“Fighting alongside you, I’ve been able to collect exhaustive data on your strengths and weaknesses,” he continued, holding his head high, “These droids are programmed to combat you perfectly. They have a zero percent chance of failure.”

“Oh, I did love your sense of humour,” Adin’ala laughed. She laughed, at him, at his stupid droids. He would need twelve more of them if he wanted to have a chance. She was going to kill that stupid little man.

“For what it’s worth,” Quinn clutched his datapad with white knuckles, the same with his gun in the other hand, “I do love you, my dear. And this hurts me.”

Adin’ala continued to laugh, harsh, rude, animalistic— she cackled, before taking a deep breath and sighing. “No, my love,” she smiled, her voice mocking, “I’ll hurt you.”

She jumped on him before he had a chance to signal his droids. Ju’arna was behind her, a silent observer until the time for bloodshed came. Malavai had seen the way Ju’arna would throw lightning at Adin’ala, how his lover would remain unaffected, and in some part of his mind, he assumed it wouldn't be painful. Adin’ala never showed any signs of pain. But as the lightning coursed through him, originating from Ju’arna’s fingertips, surging through Adin'ala, he was nearly crippled by it.

Adin’ala wrapped a hand around his neck as the unnatural lightning grew more intense, her power adding to her sister’s. As she lifted him off the ground, had he not been in blinding pain, he might’ve seen the tears in her eyes. But before he could form any plan to help himself, Adin’ala threw him against the wall, the lightning still rumbling through his body until she turned away.

By the time he recovered from being thrown aside like a broken toy, Adin’ala had smashed one droid into the ground, and was ripping its leg off with her bare hands. Ju’arna was cutting down the other, and it had merely been seconds. His droids, which shouldn't have failed, statistically, had been dismantled in less than a minute.

“No,” he whispered, voice weak, one hand on his throat as if that would lessen the pain, “No, that should have worked!”

“You've known us long enough that you should know we cannot be beat,” Adin’ala hummed, kicking Quinn onto the floor. She held him there with a foot on his back, and he could hear the hum of her lightsaber nearing his head. “You're foolish, darling.”

“He’s still useful,” Ju’arna knelt beside Quinn’s face, cocking her head to look at him. “Pitiful and traitorous and…” the woman took a deep breath, smiling wickedly, “Dripping with fear and embarrassment and defeat. But he has a purpose to serve.”

“No,” Adin’ala snarled, but removed her boot from Quinn’s back, kicking him in the side. “Stand up!” She barked, one lightsaber still in hand.

Despite how weak he was, how much pain he was in, Quinn got to his knees. He managed to get one leg under him, but before he could stand, he was being lifted by his neck once more. This time, however, Adin’ala’s hand wasn't on his throat, her hand instead curling and the room thrumming with the Force.

“I’m going to kill you, Quinn,” she spat, “Not for fooling me with your love, not for trying to kill me, not even for betraying me— I will end your life as painfully as I can for making me doubt my sister. Do you hear me, little man?”

Quinn, his legs dangling a foot off the ground, nodded meekly, unable to speak with the grip on his throat. Adin’ala squeezed tighter, smiling as he started to choke.

“Answer me!” She shouted. She dropped him and licked her lips hungrily as he crumpled onto the floor.

With a pained groan, Quinn got to his knees. He hung his head, and nodded, managing a small, “Yes, my lord.” The heaviness in the room began to dissipate. Adin’ala looked to Ju’arna, who nodded and started back toward the ship.

“You should thank my sister for trying to save your life,” the sith sighed performatively, “I could have mounted your head on my wall like a beast, because you're no better than an animal. And even that is too much respect for you and too little for my sister.”

“My love,” Quinn spoke carefully, his voice hoarse, “Nala, please.”

“Do not beg for your life, Malavai Quinn. If you wanted to live, you should have realized your loyalties lie with me and not Baras,” Adin’ala looked at him, calculated, cold, the way she looked at victims. She separated herself from them in her mind and once they meant nothing to her, they were disposable. Quinn swallowed, taking a shaky breath as he recalled the love that had been in her gaze when she last looked at him.

“My lord, may I make but one request,” he all but whispered. Adin’ala, her lightsabers off and on her belt, nodded. Quinn had no weapon. He was no threat. If he tried to move against her, Adin’ala was already imagining how lovely it would feel to use the Force to rip him limb from limb.

“Go on,” she urged, “I’m growing tired of you.”

“Kiss me,” he said. He tore his eyes off the ground to look at her, watching as she contemplated it, mulled over the idea in her head. She motioned for Malavai to stand and she walked to him, one hand on his waist. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch for a moment.

“I love you, Malavai,” Adin’ala spoke softly, more gently than she had ever been. The voice she used for pillow talk, when she was trying to convince Quinn to get some rest, the voice she used when she was alone with him.

Malavai bit his cheek, “I’m sorry,” he managed. “I’m sorry for everything, Nala. I thought, maybe—”

“I don't care what you think,” she breathed out, her free hand moving to hold the man’s face. She studied his features for a moment, and Quinn took note of how her gaze softened. “I might have forgiven you for this. For trying to kill me, for siding against me. Foolish, but forgivable. I cannot forgive you for turning me against my sister.”

“I understand, my lord,” Quinn put his hands on Adin’ala’s face and took a deep breath, “I love you. I always have.”

Adin’ala took her hand off his side in favor of grabbing her lightsaber as he kissed her. She kissed him back as she flicked on the weapon, which Quinn no doubt heard. She contemplated running him through mid-kiss, letting him die in such an intimate moment, watching the life leave his eyes while she could still taste him on her lips. He didn't deserve that, to be at ease before his death. Adin’ala promised she would kill him. She promised it would hurt. She was a woman of her word.

She pulled away from him and, with a flick of her hand, threw the man against the wall. He hissed in pain, from the pressure he was under, pressing him against the cold metal. Adin’ala spoke as she walked to him.

“In the very least, I can promise I won’t forget you,” she said, somewhat jovial. The coldness had returned to her eyes. She was good at what she did, and what she did was killing. “But I do hope you rot.”

The sith released Quinn from her hold, only to apathetically, casually swing her saber and take the man’s arm clean off his body. With the other, she focused her mind, her energy, the Force, and with a blood-curdling, pained scream, Quinn’s arm was pulled from his body without Adin’ala touching it.

His screams could be heard from the docking bay, where Ju’arna stood with Vette. Vette looked at the other half of the Wrath, still uncomfortable with how little Ju’arna reacted.

“So I guess… we have an open bunk,” she said. She was doing her best to joke, but the matter at hand was terrifying: her friend, a Sith Lord, was probably ripping her lover to shreds. It was unsettling, to say the least.

“It has been open since my sister invited that man into her bed,” Ju’arna looked at Vette, and the twi’lek got the feeling that that was as much of a joke as she could make. “You’re uneasy. You can go inside the ship, Vette. I’m only waiting for Adin’ala.”

Another scream tore through the air, making Vette turn away.

“Right,” Vette took a deep breath, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, “I’ll go make sure we’re ready for Corellia.”

#malavai quinn #swtor #star wars the old republic #sith warrior #sith warrior x malavai quinn #sith warrior/malavai quinn #adin'ala #my writing

11 notes · View notes