Title: The Master's Daughter

Author: Sythe aka Dawn

Rating: NC17

Characters: M/F

Category: Smut, Het

Feedback: Yes please! TELOXI@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I don't own em, I just borrow em for my fics. I received no money in its creation.

Summary: The Queen and Jedi have escaped from Tatooine and make their way back to the planet of Naboo. Having been ordered to go and wait for them there, Darth Maul finds something he did not expect to find on the home world of his master.

Part VII

The Sith Lord growls aloud with irritation and growing impatience. The Viceroy Nute Gunray gives his progress report, his fear causing his voice to quaver, his words to stumble out, pauses of hesitation between words or sentences. But things are going as to his Master's wishes and soon the child Queen shall return to Naboo and when she does, he will stand over her as he forces her to sign the treaty between Naboo and the Trade Federation.

"Soon, the Jedi shall lie dead under my heel and I will place their lightsabers at the feet of my Master in triumph." The Sith thinks inwardly, greatly anticipating the battle he feels soon to take place.

"The droid armies have entered the underwater cities, but have found no traces of life. It was found abandoned. We are searching the swamps for any trace of the creatures and their possible hide outs." The Viceroy continues, standing before the Sith Lord who has taken the throne for himself, his eyes full of darkness and hate, his face hard and fierce, giving no hint of emotion except for the snarl that is beginning to appear with his annoyance.

"Enough!" The Sith growls in contempt and annoyance, rising to his feet from the throne to his full height, eyes flashing darkly upon the cringing Neimoidians. He turns his eyes from one reptilian-like being to the other, glaring hard and dangerously. “Continue your search, Viceroy.”

And with that, the Sith Lord moves passed the two cowering Neimoidians in a brilliant display of his black robes, leaving the throne room to the Viceroy and his lackey.

Growling low and deep within his black throat, the Sith paces about his quarters, his thoughts of the woman troubling him. He must keep his mind on his task! He must keep his thoughts in check!

The Darkside swirls about the room with his growing anger, swirling about him like wafts of smoke as he moves, the edges of his black robe dancing about him wildly, gracefully.

He comes to a quick and final decision…

**********

My body aches more than usual, having been touched unlike I have ever felt before…but how? I have been touched, yet I remain pure. The Dark Man…he filled my senses with his presence, my mind with his, my body with his own…and filled my womb with his dark seed. And as I lie upon my bed, naked and unable to sleep, I can feel a strange…connection…rapor…along with the Dark Man’s energy coursing through my veins like black fire from the place where he laid his claim upon me…within.

With a deep sigh, I slowly rise from my bed, wrapping the black fire-silk sheet about my frame. And coming to stand before the window of my room, I slowly part the drapes and cautiously peer out into the darkness that envelopes Theed like a thick black blanket.

The sky is clear, the moon is full and the stars shine so brightly this night. But I can just make out the reflection of the light glinting off the circular hulls of the Trade Federation’s droid control ship in high orbit about Naboo.

I gasp aloud with a start as one of the Federation’s STAP speeders suddenly flashes passed my window in a blur of movement and shadow, causing me to take a quick step back away from the window.

“Nerves! My nerves are on end!” I think in distress, unable to silence my mind, calm my thoughts – even despite utilizing the techniques that my teacher, Sidious, had taught me.

“The Dark Man! It is His doing!” I exclaim aloud, returning to the window once more where my eyes falls upon the balcony at which I had leapt from the night previous…the room where I felt that…cold…emptiness where I should have felt something – anything! The room where I felt like I was loosing my senses…

I close my eyes, letting my mind and senses drift along the Force…feeling, sensing… The darkness. It surrounds everything. Nothing is left untouched by its allure, its seduction. And I sense there is something…or someone behind all that is happening. But the Dark Man…he lingers along the fringes of my mind…yet I can feel him under my skin, sense him in my mind…and he is part of almost every thought that I have.

“Please! I beg you! Let me go!! Please…” Tears slip from my eyes, feeling His grip upon me tighten ever so painfully. And grasping to the drapes before me, I fall to my knees, having lost the ability to stand as my despair begins to overwhelm me unlike I have ever allowed it to before.

But once more His words fill my mind…my body…my soul… “You are mine.”

I place my hand upon my belly, over the place where I have never been touched before by any man, feeling the dark energies the Dark Man left within me surge and move about like the currents of the Darkside itself…as if almost…alive.

“Why do you haunt me?”

Slowly, wiping the tears from my cheeks, I rise to my feet, knowing there is only one way to rid myself of the thoughts and feelings that seem to rule over me, control me.

Training – hard and rigorous training.

Once more I stand within the training room, my eyes gazing for an endless moment where I had found myself lying helpless and being ravaged so…possessively…so…exquisitely. And tearing my eyes away from the black mat covering the majority of the hard black marble floor, I call the long stalf from its holder upon the wall before me and it comes flying toward me to my waiting hand.

I look for a moment at my right hand, the hard wood-like long stalf held out horizontally before me, feeling the Force itself coursing from the object into my hand and up my arm. It is hard, cold and lifeless, yet the Darkside – the Force surrounds it, permeates it, infuses it and I call upon its energies to strengthen my own.

With a slow, methodical and ingrained movement of my body, the dance begins once more. Placing my right foot forward, I spin the long stalf over my head, striking forward with a downward cut before lowering into a low stance over my left leg. I raise my right leg before me off the mat and bringing it up as I rise once more to my full height. It is quickly followed by a back kick – high and powerful as the stalf is held out to my side, defending any openings if I were attacking someone, or being attacked.

I can hear the stalf fly passed my ear by mere inches to a defensive block as I move, entering the next part of my training, leaping into the air with my legs parted far to either side of me and I use the momentum to flip forward, but I land some distance away, utilizing the Force to aid in my movements.

Now, in my mind, I imagine the Dark Man standing before me. He is like a black shadow…a silhouette – a man dressed in flowing black robes, a deep hood upon his head, the shadows hiding his face from my sight.

He moves so silently, his steps like that of a great predator, sizing up his prey, measuring and preparing for the battle to come. His hand wields a weapon long and metallic in color, and cylinder shaped. A lightsaber. And from its hilt hums a brilliant beam of laser light the color of blood.

I can feel him watching my every movement, his eyes burning me wherever they may wander. I can feel the darkness about him, the strength of the Darkside flowing through his veins like fire.

“You cannot win,” I hear his silken voice exclaim almost in a whisper within my mind, but I do not listen. The anger and Darkness he emanates, I make it my own, strengthening me, my own body seeming to burn with an icy fire that could never be truly described.

In my hand I no longer hold the stalf, but a lightsaber of my own, its blade too burning in a crimson hugh like blood. I can feel it vibrate in my hands, smell the scent of the air itself burning – ozone. And I can feel the metallic sting of its metal casing against my burning skin.

He has an arrogance about him. Maybe it’s the way he moves, the way he holds his weapon, the way he holds his head…or maybe it’s the way he just stands there before me as if knowing already that he will win. His arrogance is something that could one day get him killed.

I use my anger that has been welling up in my stomach from him taking me, using it and turning it into power – power to defeat this man who haunts me and holds me in an unbreakable…and unbearable grasp.

“Let me go.” I hiss through my clenched teeth as my hands wring the shaft of the ignited lightsaber in my hands, moving it to glow before me, lighting up my soft complected face in an eerie red glow.

And then I charge, raising the blade of my weapon up over my head, but keeping my arms close to my body, prepared for any attack that he may attempt in the blink of an eye.

But as I send the lethal blood red blade flying toward the Dark Man who remains motionless, I gasp aloud as he suddenly vanishes and I feel something wrench my weapon from my hands, sending it flying across the dark training room as something takes hold of my wrists. In the beating of my heart, I can feel long strong fingers wrapped my wrists, feeling warm leather against my bare skin, and I can smell the scent of leather, incenses, musk…and that of something I recognize…something male.

Waking up from my mental vision, I find myself still being held. Long strong arms hold me to a hard muscled and tall frame from behind, and my arms are crossed over my chest, keeping me restrained and unable to fight back or break free.

“I do not understand! How?! Has my own imagination come real?” I think in confusion and disbelief, not quite registering everything my senses are telling me.

“No, I am as real as the heart beating in your own chest.”

~TBC~