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The forest was rich and lush with life, teeming with vivid verdancy and enchanted with magic so ancient it had no name. Beneath the heroic warrior, a winter-white stallion stood tall and proud, neck craned majestically as the two stared at the looming castle in the distance. Dark, thunderous clouds hissing and spitting with lightning circled the ominous towers like vultures.
There, the knight thought as he tightened his grip on his sword, steeling himself. There is where the evil king resides.
His prideful steed rearing, the two heroes bolted down the long and twisted path, certain of their bond and of their strength. They had trained months for this, years for this, they had lost and learned and lived and loved, all leading up to this moment. They would kill the evil king, and they would save the kingdom, or they would die trying, and neither of them had any intentions on dying that day-
The doors slammed open, quite the impressive feat considering they were automatic sliding doors. Piett raised an irate eyebrow at the sudden intruder, setting his holo-pad off to the side with a remorseful sigh.
“Love,” he greeted, taking note of the agitated way his lover’s fists clenched, the synth leather creaking with the strain, metal fingers groaning, their bond buzzing with a tormented, frustrated energy.
A bleat of static from the vocoder was all the response he got as his lover began pacing back and forth across the room.
Piett’s room.
Well, the room technically belonged to both of them, but his lover was quite adverse to actually using it, preferring to instead lurk just outside, occasionally entering just to brush his hands reverently over Piett’s possessions as if he were worshiping sacred artifacts.
Piett found it quite endearing, though he probably shouldn’t.
Now, though, his lover trod the well-kept floors with a bristling aggravation that even Piett could sense. His heavy, synthweave cape snapped at his lover’s heels as he paced, lashing with each turn like the tail of some great dark dragon.
“Love,” he began, his annoyance at being interrupted fading in place of growing concern for his lover’s unusual behavior. “What ever could have upset you so?”
His lover stopped his pacing, tilting his head to peer at Piett with his one good eye, the crimson lenses covering up the smoldering amber color Piett knew was hidden just beneath.
His lover let out another bleat of static - this one, Piett recognized as a sigh. Seeming to deflate, those broad black armored shoulders slumped slightly, and those strong durasteel hands unclenched, though an anxious and uncertain energy still hovered like a swarm of detritivorous insects. He truly was beautiful, Piett reflected, eyes softening as he gazed at the imposing dark beast of a man, whose strength and skill was unmatched but who curled in on himself self-consciously.
Piett could spend days on end staring at his lover, analyzing him, getting lost in the details of him, drinking it all up…
Dammit, Firmus, now was not the time. His lover was upset about something, and Piett was deathly curious as to what, though horrid scenarios ran through his mind simultaneously.
As the silent staring from his lover’s end continued, Piett let out a low hiss.
“If the Emperor did something to you…” Piett growled, unable to withstand the gruesome tirade running through his head, his fists clenching in rage.
“Calm,” his lover said, technically commanded, but with a tone that was soothing. Or, at least as soothing as his lover was capable of. “I have not spoken with the Emperor since the visit to Coruscant.”
Piett calmed, his metaphorical hackles falling.
“Then what bothers you?” He murmured, standing.
His lover was quiet for a moment, save for the mechanical breathing, and Piett feared he wouldn’t answer.
“It… hurts,” his lover said finally, letting Piett grasp his hands, intertwining their fingers.
Piett frowned up at him.
“What hurts, love?”
A long pause.
“It is… irrational. Impossible. And yet it is true. My jaw, my love - my jaw is gone and yet it agonizes me.”
“Oh,” was all Piett could manage.
A heavy silence reigned supreme. Helpless rage rioted in Piett’s chest, a smothering fury at the Emperor, at the blind masses, at the Galaxy as a whole. He hated them. He hated Him.
His lover jerked backwards, fear coiling around him, seeping from him like poison gas - fear of him, but also fear for him, buried beneath the ingrained terror his lover felt.
Piett froze, hands still slightly raised from where his lover’s hands had slipped from his.
Crossing his arms across his chest, a gesture Piett had become unfortunately familiar with, his lover backed up until his back was against the door.
The phantom sensation of lightning spidering over his skin sent plasmic waves of agony and scorching freeze-pain throughout his body, his entire abdomen clenching as he was assaulted by wave after wave of animal fear.
“No, no, love - I’m not- I’m not angry at you love, never at you-”
Tears pricked at his eyes, a sorrowful grief so confound it sent roiling waves of nausea through his soul. This injustice was one he felt keenly.
It was easy enough for him to open himself up in the Mindlink, projecting his earnest concern and overwhelming affection.
Slowly, he took a few steps forward, hands held up slightly as if he were approaching a spooked animal.
“I’m not angry at you,” he repeated, his voice nearing a whisper. “I’m angry for you. I can’t take your pain away, love, but I can hate the one who caused it.”
“I do not hate him,” his lover said, allowing Piett to approach, though he still radiated an uncharacteristic nervousness.
“That’s alright,” Piett murmured, placing his hands gently on his lover’s chest, careful not to near the delicate buttons and lights. Slowly, jerkingly, as if he were out of practice, his lover wrapped his arms around Piett in return.
“I have enough hate for him for the both of us - I will hate on your behalf.”