No song thanks, just brain bleach- or maybe a cold shower.

Caer ‘stared’ blankly at the window, not really seeing what was out there. She was still trying to absorb what the day had thrown her plus the dream that had topped it all off.  The dream that left her wide awake and shivering in a cold sweat. She had done her best not to wake up Tom and was relieved to find that he’d already gotten up for the morning and was out doing whatever it was he did in the mornings before meeting up with her.

She held a cup of rapidly cooling caf in her hands , not even really sipping it.  Caer didn’t seem to really see what was in front of her or pay much attention to her surroundings.  She placed her hand on the table, shivering a bit as she tried to shake off the dream that had plagued her in the night.

At least it wasn’t her usual set of nightmares that most times recycled a host of people she cared about being offed in grotesque and horrific ways, usually starring somebody from her past who she’d either killed or the worst ones were where she was the one doing the killing of the loved ones.  Those were always the ones where she woke up with her teeth grinding hard enough to cause her jaw and neck to ache, biting back bile and the hearty urge to scream. Most times it worked, there were a few times she had screamed loud enough for Raiyden and Neirov to come running.

This dream had been different. This dream had been far scarier than anything her mind could have conjured and she knew that the force had interfered.

But why?

Why dream that, and worse of all why dream of him?

She could hear her second Masters voice in her head and sighed. “The force works in mysterious ways, Caer. Just as the force brought your brother and you to me, it also gives us messages and hidden meanings int he forms of dreams that can sometimes come as visions.” The Nautolans huge black eyes stared at her patiently a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Caer had just wrinkled her nose and rolled her shoulders.  Raiyden had nodded and hung onto his every word.

Shaking her head, Caer set the mug of caf down and drew her knees to her chest. She was wearing an actual outfit today, though she had to fight the urge to slap on the armor after that particular dream. Even now her cheeks threatened to burn with blush and she quickly picked up her cup of caf and drank it, burning her tongue and throat as she downed it without really bothering to realize it was still hot.

Why dream of him? Why dream that? Especially that with him?

What had the Pureblood done during their brief meeting in which they both admitting having to escape watchful eyes to even have a conversation?  Caer had slipped out under the guise of another mission and had spoken with the Pureblood on Alderaan;  their conversation had been somewhat intense, but in the sense that the subject matter had been very serious.

The dream had been strange, sexually charged and it was one that brought shame to flood through her face, neck and shoulders. She poured herself another cup of caf- she really didn’t like caf- and started to drink it down.

The dream had started out with confusion, inside a chamber that held opulence that only a Sith could pull off. A room of rich wall tapestries, low lighting and the Dark side written all over it. She had tried to move and of course she’d found herself tied down. If she’d possessed the ability, she’d have rolled her eyes, instead she thumped her head on the table she found herself tied to.

It’s just a dream, she told herself; a very weird and  force laden dream. She could see the force both light and dark permeating through the fabric of the dream.

The Pureblood  had come into the room and he had only worn whatever gods he worshipped had graced him with at birth. Or did Purebloods hatch? Caer couldn’t remember.  Not that it really mattered because well there was a nearly naked Pureblood Sith staring at her and she was tied to a table.

Well, she thought, this dreams going South fast.

However, Caer had assumed torture. The typical horrible type that usually involved force lightning, punching and mental torment.  This dream couldn’t have been farther from that.  No, it’d gone much further than even her limited imagination could come up with.

The Pureblood had teased her, both verbally and physically, his hand trailing up her side. He’d told her she’d looked …what was the word he’d used? Delicious. It had made her shudder. As to whether or not that’d been a good thing or not she still couldn’t figure that out.

Of course she’d protested. Hadn’t she? She remembered protesting as things had progressed in a direction that she’d been helpless to stop, she had adamantly stated she had someone- her words going ignored. Intimacy of the level beyond her experience, the feel of his skin against her own had left her feeling dizzied.

She had asked if this was his dream or hers. Neither one of them could figure it out.

After… what had happened, happened (Caer found herself drinking more caf- really the stuff was awful) the Pureblood had spoken to her.  She remembered the conversation, how it turned out and even as she faded from the dream, she heard their conversation. She had told the pureblood flat out that she loved someone else and nothing would ever change that.

“I dont’ feel love right now, my dear.”

“Of course not. You’re a Sith. … Sith don’t feel such compassions. Only lust…” She had paused. . “I’d never love you anyways.”

“Why is that? Let me guess, because I’m Sith.” He had teased her, grinning at her expression. “You’re wrong, dear. I do feel love. I loved once.”

“Well nobody ever said you’re stupid.” Her tone had meant to come out caustic but really it just sounded flat.

A long silence had ensued, until she’d finally asked, “Why..?”

The Pureblood had held her close and she’d done nothing to stop it. “I think that would be quite obvious, Caer.  A Master like you can’t feel?”

“Is this your strange way of telling me you want something?” It was the only thing that came to mind as she tried to pull away from his touch.

“Indeed, I enjoy your company…a lot.” The slender Pureblood seemed a bit discomfited by the way the woman pressed him, as if wanting to say what was on his mind.

“I told you I’m with someone.” She frowned.

“With someone?” He had stared at her intently. “Are you saying it could never be then?  I thought I felt something….”

“No. Kruven.” She had clenched her jaw, this dream was so odd and some part of her hated it. “You’re a Sith, I’m… a seeker of light.. you think we could have anything?”

The waking world called to her and she only dimly heard his words, see him as he hung his head, whispering, “It…could have something…”

Caer shook herself out of her thoughts and sighed heavily, rubbing her face and rolling her shoulders as she tried to ease the tension that was slowly building up in her shoulders.  She had thought about it, long and with great care.

Was he asking her for help? In his own weird Sith like way? Caer knew that sometimes Sith could do odd things, deliver strange messages. She had seen him just no more than twenty four hours previous.

Something about the way he’d acted, the way he’d spoken to her. It didn’t sit right with the typical divide and conquer type Sith. Not the way Kyic was; that guy made her skin crawl. Kruven had always been a civil and polite Pureblood- (then again Caer had noticed the difference between Zabraks and other species. Zabraks had all the manners of rancors.) Purebloods were generally two types, boorish brain mashers or civilized polite beings who actually could string together more than a few words and have make sense.

That had to be it; it was the only way for this dream to have transpired. He was asking her for some way to help him. He was as much of a political prisoner if not worse off than she was. Dromund Kaas and the Sith in general did not take failure lightly.

Now she felt obligated to help him. Well, no that wasn’t fair at all. She felt the need and desire to help him. The way he’d hung his head, how he had thought… shaking the feeling off she chewed on her lip thoughtfully. She’d help him, however she could if that was what he really wanted.

Sighing heavily, she pushed herself away from the table to face the day. She would have to face her brother, who she knew would likely question her if he felt the ripples of the emotions through the bond they shared. Chances were Tom would feel it too and she fairly dreaded even talking to either of them about it.

Well she’d either help the man, or bash him over the head until he couldn’t do more than twitch and drink his food through a straw for the rest of his life.


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