A mixture of 100 word drabbles capturing moments in time. Many are series of drabbles with a common story thread. Others are stand alone. Mainly Luke/Vader or a Dark Luke, but also Mara, Han, Leia, Beru, Owen, Palpatine, Obi-Wan, Wedge, et al
Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Luke S., Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan K. - Chapters: 113 - Words: 41,731 - Reviews: 467 - Favs: 77 - Follows: 84 - Updated: 8/12 - Published: 1/31/2009 - id: 4830188
These drabbles (and the the ones to follow) were written as part of a challenge on SSB. Some have a theme that follow through them, some don't. As I post the ones that form part of a larger "story" I'll give you the heads up. The challenge is to write a drabble based on three words. Each week for ten weeks the words change so we should end up with 30 drabbles. Each drabble is to be 100 words.
These drabbles were for week 1. Enemies is based on an unwritten scene from my Penumbra series. Friends was written while my kids ate and played in a McDonalds and Lovers is a spoiler for Dark Times.
Disclaimer: Everything Star Wars belongs to Mr Lucas. I only borrow the characters to play with and I always give back, unbroken (or nearly always unbroken... okay maybe a little bruised). The only profit I gain is my own enjoyment of writing.
He hung loosely, arms strapped tight to the durasteel bar. He no longer fought to keep his toes on the ground, no longer cared. His eyes were closed against the glare of the bank of lights that were directly before him, against the heat that scorched his skin and stole the breath from him. He could feel blood trickle down his throat, could taste its coppery tang, could feel more mingle with sweat to slick his naked, broken body.
The lights dimmed. The heat waned. The voice returned, demanding an answer.
"Who are you?"
He swallowed with difficulty. "Y.. your son."
He was exhausted. His body trembled, his legs ached. No longer caring how dirty his uniform had become he flopped down into the mud. His chest heaved from his exertion, his run through the jungle, the acrobatics his teacher demanded, the lightsaber practise that followed. A Jedi needed to be prepared to fight no matter how tired they were.
"So weary already are you?" His master cackled. "More to come there is."
He groaned. Taking hold of the top of Artoo Detoo's legs he pulled himself up. The little droid twittered his support.
Luke patted the droid's dome. "Thanks, buddy."
The chill of the evening air caressed his skin and he shivered, drawing her closer to him. Luke was surprise at what had just happened. At the suddenness of their union, the passion and intensity that had driven them both. Clothes frantically pushed aside, tossed away as they sought solace with their bodies.
He was free because of her. She nearly died because of him.
He trailed his fingers along the scar on her belly even bacta would not heal. The result of Vader's saber.
She took his hand. Placed it on her breast. "Shhh, don't say it."
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