Luke Skywalker (firstofthenew) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-05-26 10:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | anakin skywalker, clark kent, exar kun, han solo, jacen solo, jaina solo, leia organa, luke skywalker, peter petrelli (future) |
who; Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, & Exar Kun [Open to rescue party.]
when; Just after this.
where; The Witching Hour, and just outside.
summary; I just.. have no words. Hopefully, though, the siblings will be rescued.
rating; R. Do not read this if mentions of child abuse and nasty stuff involving knives and broken bones offends you. It's really not that bad, but I'd rather not take chances.
status; In progress.
While Luke hadn't exactly been talkative with Exar Kun out of the room, he had, at least, been somewhat responsive. At least, to the extent that he seemed to understand when Leia was talking to him, and even (from time to time) gave her a wide, terrifyingly innocent smile. As if he no longer understood their situation at all. --His breathing had become steadily more laboured, gurgling in his chest, and occasionally blood filled his throat and mouth, but otherwise, he seemed in decent spirits.
His sister, after all, meant the world to him. That she was there with him, while terrible for her, meant that he was strangely happy. It was okay. He could deal with anything with Leia there whispering to him and giving him hugs when it all hurt too much.
Her ankle was looking a little like his fingers, though, and that distressed him a bit. After all, he knew that at the time they'd been twisted funny like they were now, it had hurt. Granted, they didn't hurt much anymore (possibly because other things hurt worse), but he didn't want Leia to hurt. It wasn't fair. The Bad Man wasn't supposed to hurt her.
He was touching it, now, broken fingers delicate against the swelling ankle and prodding gently around the shackle still around it.
"Leia," he managed, and coughed wetly, glancing to her in bewilderment. ".. Hurts?"
Leia tried not to tense whe he prodded her ankle, delicate as his touch was. She knew it was broken. It had likely broken when she had lunged after her brother, more interested in getting him back than keeping her foot on her ankle. It had only truly begun hurting recently, once the adrenaline had winded down.
"It's okay," she said. "It hurts a little, yeah. But I'll be fine."
She didn't want to lie to him. She was hurt, yes, but this was nothing compared to what she would be getting in a few minutes. Their hour was almost up, and no one had come yet. Yet. The word wouldn't leave her mind. Someone would come. It wasn't faint hope, but cold, hard fact. They would be rescued from this. It was only a matter of time.
"Just wait 'til we get on the Falcon, Luke. You're going to love that piece of space junk." Maybe even as much as she did.
Offering another of those bright smiles, Luke shuffled back over to sit next to his sister, coughing again and scrubbing at the blood running down his chin. To be honest, Luke couldn't really think that far ahead. Being rescued was a distant, foreign thing to him. It was as if he'd belonged to the Sith Lord for.. forever. He couldn't remember what his parents looked like, or even if he had parents. He didn't know where he'd lived before this. Did he have friends? Had he been loved?
The only thing that existed for him was that.. tiny room, his sister, and.. the Bad Man. The one who did those things to him that made him pretend he wasn't there, that made him make those noises the Bad Man liked so much.
He didn't like to think about what the Bad Man did.
"Leia." He reached up, patting her face, and was dismayed when he left a bright red streak behind. "Leia." He wanted to tell her that she felt.. sad inside, but he couldn't find the words anymore. "Not hurt. Ah-- B-Bad Man. N-nnnot let." He wouldn't let the Bad Man hurt her. No way. After all, he was a boy, and he was supposed to protect his sister. Right?
She wasn't worried about the blood on her cheek. Leia turned her head a bit, pressing into his hand. She was no fool; Leia knew what the rasping, choked voice meant. Her brother was dying. It was a slow death, but he was dying, bleeding into his lungs. Without medical aid, he would drown or bleed out.
They were racing against time. And the more the minutes ticked away, the less likely it seemed Luke would survive.
Leia wasn't sure her backup plan would work anymore. If Luke was healthier, even a little, she would feel better about it. But now, she could only feel sure that by offering herself to Kun, she had ensured Luke would have some reprieve from his torture. If he'd been stronger, she might have hoped his response to her pain would be something to hurt Kun in return.
Leia understood what he was trying to say. She still didn't want to lie to him. "I know, Luke. You'll take care of me, right?" She wiped the blood from his chin, giving him a gentle smile.
"Mm!" An affirmative, Luke's bruised little face serious and determined--a bit of a hero, perhaps, even at that age. Not that it meant anything in the long run, really; the sound of boots could be heard echoing just outside and down the hall. ..Luke heard them, too, pale eyes widening slightly, fingers curling into the hem of his ruined shirt. The Bad Man was coming back, and he'd-- what would he do? Hurt Leia? It seemed likely. The Bad Man, after all, didn't like people if they weren't broken. And his sister wasn't broken yet. She was still clean and pretty and.. and Luke couldn't let him hurt her. But what could he do?
The door opened, and Exar Kun stepped into the room--- It was as if, immediately, the temperature dropped and the light dimmed. He was so fully a part of the Dark that it even affected the world around him. His smile, when he turned it on Leia and Luke, was smug. The cat who had, literally, got the canary.
"Did you enjoy the time spent with your brother, Princess?" he queried, tone polite and yet.. somehow mocking. "I imagine he's not much of a conversationalist anymore." With a casual gesture, he smacked the small boy aside, sending him sprawling across the room and into the side of the couch. He settled there, still and (most likely) unconscious or close to it.
A broad hand then lifted the young woman by the throat, leaving her dangling several inches off the floor as he unlocked her shackle with the Force. Another gesture summoned a long table from a hitherto unseen corner of the room, where it settled in the center beneath the lights. Covered in dried blood and with straps and chains meant for a much smaller body, it was fairly obvious what it had been used for previously. --A quick movement of his hand had it readjusting itself, however, and the Sith Lord was tying Leia down in seconds. With her arms above her head, her feet bound tightly together, and her waist and across her chest strapped down, it would be all but impossible for her to move more than a few inches in any direction.
"Much better," the dark-haired man breathed, and smoothed fingers appreciatively over Leia's face and down her throat. "You're very pretty like this, Princess."
Leia held her brother tight when she heard the boots on the hall. "I love you," were the last words that she whispered to him before the Bad Man returned. Before Luke was tossed from her arms.
There was no way to breathe when he lifted her, so Leia didn't waste time trying. When her fingers took up their natural reaction to the hold, reaching for the hand holding her, she used the reaction to dig her nails into his wrist. There was little time to inflict anything major, however, before she was strapped down to the table.
Her skin recoiled from his touch. No matter what she'd said, he wouldn't own her. Even when she'd been a slave in Jabba's palace on Tatooine, she hadn't been a possession. That villain had paid for the offense with his life. So would this one.
"You'll live long enough to regret this, Kun," she said. "Just long enough."
"Oh, I certainly hope your family will come," was the taunting response, and the Sith Lord produced a slender, gleaming blade from his sleeve. He ran the sliver-thin, nearly translucent edge over his tongue, splitting the surface neatly and spilling blood into his mouth. --Satisfied with its sharpness, he swallowed and nipped the buttons off her shirt neatly, pulling it open with a clinical gaze. "I want them to watch helplessly when I carve open your brother's throat and fuck his twitching corpse." He smiled abruptly, chillingly charming and friendly. ".. Is that what you want to hear?"
With a smooth, almost too quick to see motion, he stabbed her forearm, pinning it to the table. --It slid through her flesh like a dream.
The cry that wrestled itself from her throat was bright and sharp, but quick. Leia clenched her jaw, silencing herself. The man wanted screams? He'd have to work for them. His words had been more painful by far, each one a lash across her heart, but she'd had an hour now to steel herself for what was coming. Leia Organa was no stranger to pain. She had been tortured twice at the hands of Darth Vader; once aboard the Death Star, and again on the planet of Mimban when the Sith had cut into her again and again with his lightsaber. She wasn't sure how long she would last, but she was determined to make it long enough to frustrate him.
Her skin was bare after he cut her shirt away, but Leia blocked that out as well. She'd met with enough humiliation as Jabba's slave that her exposed flesh was no cause for distress. The clinical look in his eyes as he looked her over was a different story.
"You know," the Sith was saying, tone conversational as he ripped the blade back out, scraping thoughtfully at the top layer of skin over the small wound, "I've been thinking-- I'm really rather curious about your children. You've borne strong ones, you know. Which means, of course, that you inherited a great deal of strength, yourself, despite your apparent desire to let it go wasted." He moved the blade away, instead using one sharp thumbnail to torment the scraped skin and bleeding puncture wound. The blade itself was made useful by trailing gently down between her breasts to her belly. "I wonder if your womb would produce such children independently of you, or if the whole is required?"
Another lightning-quick movement, and he'd slashed a shallow gash open across her stomach, the flat of the blade resting innocently against it afterward.
Her chest hitched as she tensed against the pain, locking any vocal displays in her throat. Leia kept her eyes focused on the ceiling, the lights overhead. Her mind was slowly being sent away, her private trick to avoid the sensations her body was being subjected to. Her thoughts were turning inward, drifting back to the previous night, when she'd been in Han's arms, safe aboard the Falcon.
She flinched at the knife assault, faintly. "Pity to try and be wrong," she said through clenched teeth. "All that potential wasted."
She wouldn't let that frighten her. At this point in her life, Leia wanted no children. She wouldn't argue against their obvious existence - clearly she'd changed her mind at some point - but that fact also meant that her womb had been intact enough to bear them. She refused to think that time could be so horribly tampered with as to negate their existences.
"Oh, I don't know," was the purring response, and the Sith bent to swipe his tongue slowly, catlike, over the wound on her belly, ".. I hear that cloning is popular, now." Amber eyes gleamed up at her, flashing madness and a total lack of fear. "I can always trap your soul inside something until I can obtain the proper facilities to recreate you." He chuckled, fingers trailing down over her thigh suggestively. "You didn't think that I planned to let your brother off that easily, did you? He'll endure me until I tire of killing him. So will you."
Behind him, Luke was stirring, small body shuddering as he tried once, twice to lift himself onto his hands and knees. The third time was the charm, and the boy's blank doll's face tilted up, staring at the Sith and his sister. Painstakingly, he began to climb to his feet.
"Pretty Leia. And your parents, to gain such.. impressive children as you and your brother. I would love nothing more than to take your father apart and see what makes him.. tick." A smile, and the blade was driven into her side, Force-skill avoiding organs and still somehow making it as painful as possible. "So to speak."
Again, her skin curled to avoid his touch, but the limited movement made her efforts futile. Revultion filled her instead, and anger and being so intimately handled by someone who wasn't Han. Her eyes narrowed into slits, hating the man as his fingers stroked her thigh. She had no response to the threats of trapping their souls - as much as she might doubt his ability to do so, the thought of it terrified her.
The stab into her side broke through her mental displacement, and Leia cried out. Pain flared in her mind, and she fought to get it under control.
The sound of his sister in pain was what did it. One moment, he'd been wavering on his feet, and the next-- Exar Kun was being thrown through the wall, brick and mortar cracking and dust filtering into the air. Luke stumbled to his sister, breath gurgling in panic as his twisted and clumsy fingers hastily removed straps. "Leia," he was saying, a mantra as he coughed and coughed and wheezed, nearly tipping over and trying so desperately not to think of what he'd just done and how he was going to pay for it. "Leia. H-haave to-- g-g-go."
The straps fell away, and he made a distressed noise as he touched hands tenderly to the wound in her side. "Can m-move?"
Sithspit, it had worked. Leia didn't want to think about what that had done to Luke. The knife in her side had wrenched through her when Kun went flying. She didn't want to think about what else it might have sliced on its way, either. Blood was flowing freely from her arm, belly, and the wound in her side, but as soon as she felt the straps fall away, Leia was turning onto her side.
"I can move," she hissed, willing the words to be true. She wasn't about to let a little blood loss prevent her from getting the hell out of here. Not when it could have cost so much.
She rolled off the table, not wanting to waste any time. Kun had sliced the button off her shirt, but she couldn't have cared less if she was back in the metal bikini Jabba had forced her to wear. Her right arm was quickly determined to be mostly useless, so Leia pulled her brother into her left, biting back the bolt of pain from her side and took a step.
And immediately fell back against the table, letting loose a shout as her ankle sharply reminded her that it was broken.
Tugging his sister's hand insistently, Luke was shaking his head, blood spilling down his chin again and running down his throat, making what words he could form barely discernible. "Leia-- h-huurts? Go n-now. N-now." He glanced back at the ruined wall, and where the Sith Lord had disappeared, and made a sound like a wounded animal as he tried to make himself a support for the woman.
He knew that Leia had to get out of there. For him--? Well. He didn't know anything else, but he couldn't let his sister be hurt by the Bad Man. Not like that. Not like that.
Leia gritted her teeth. She wasn't going to stay here. And she wasn't going to let Luke stay here, either. She pulled him back into her arm, tight against her chest. Gritting her teeth, she forced her leg forward, brought it down to the ground, and stepped, swinging her other foot quickly to relieve it.
The shock of pain brought tears to her eyes, but the relief that it wasn't impossible. Leia steadied her breathing, clenched her teeth tight, and started running, running, for the door. It was closed, but not locked, and Leia pushed it open, pulling Luke with her into a hallway. "Please," she said. "Please, someone help us." She kept running, calling out to anyone she saw for help, for medical aid.