Faultlines: Signal Fire, Chapter One
Jun. 16th, 2020 07:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianSo yeah, the sequel to Faultlines is in business!
Trigger warning for discussions of kidnapping, child abuse (primarily emotional), partner rape, torture, obsession with a person, etc.
Zar was a child in Clawdite years when Ben was brought to him.
He was vaguely aware of his parents arguing with their friends — Clawdites meant to imitate his counterpart’s parents. Zar wondered how he was supposed to fit in to the image of a child that he had never met — about things that little Zar was too naive, too sheltered to understand.
The human child was shivering, shaking like a leaf. The way he looked — Zar couldn’t help but want to reach out, to comfort him. To make sure that he was all right. He was so tiny. Odd-looking too; did human children really look that odd and sad?
“Ben!” he chirped. “Ben, hi!"
Ben looked up at him. Even the look in his eyes, of anger and confusion and misery...Zar wanted to wipe it away. And even then there was something in him that he would have recognized as a desire to possess.
“It’s not that scary here!” Zar said. “You’ll like it here. The castle’s beautiful...”
“Where’s home?” Ben finally said. “This isn’t home.”
“You are home, Ben.”
And even then, Zar couldn’t help but feel a deep pit in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to tell lies. Was it really telling a lie if it was going along with something a grown-up was saying?
***
It was the adult Zar who woke up, finding himself not in a place like one of the palace’s spare bedrooms, but in a cold white medbay. He had a feeling, really, that he was off to a bad start; he knew that being in the Resistance’s hands would inevitably mean torture. Snoke had told him campfire stories about it, how the Resistance was willing to torture their prisoners if it meant punishing them. “They see us as nothing more than savages. Barely worthy of respect. Like all terrorists, they think they’re right and we’re wrong...”
There was a woman sitting over him — a woman who looked to be older, but not particularly gray-haired. Zar knew that the Resistance had women in their ranks as pilots, bombers, medics...of course they’d be foolish enough to do it, Zar thought. His father, and the culture of the parallel world he lived in — women were considered lesser than men by default. “The only thing about them that isn’t inferior is their ass and their tits, and how good they are in the sheets.” That was what Arkos had once said. “Otherwise, they’re just castrating, shrewish creatures who’ll act like they love you and then dismantle you.”
In that sense, following his father’s logic, Ben was very much like a woman.
“So you’re awake,” the medic said. Her voice sounded crisp, calm, and Zar could feel that she hated him. Being on base, surrounded by people who thought he was a monster... “You know, it is a miracle that Ben actually didn’t have you killed, but I guess Jedi can be miraculous that way.”
So he had embraced his true heritage as well. Not as a prince, but a Jedi.
The medic got to work. To her credit (and Zar’s surprise), she didn’t torture him. Even if treating the blaster wound where that swine Han Solo had shot him was painful, along with the (unintentional) lightsaber wounds that Ben had given him. “You’re thinking that I’d torture you, no doubt. Propaganda Snoke put in your head. I won’t do that. You should be grateful we’re showing you mercy, considering you’re a torturer and an abuser with just a side of rapist.”
“That’s a lie,” Zar finally managed to hiss. Him, a rapist? He hadn’t told Ben the truth (even though he’d wanted to) but...a rapist? The thought was impossible. He hadn’t brutalized Ben. He hadn’t forced himself inside, or made Ben force himself inside. "I would never...”
“Oh, so I presume you psychologically abusing and lying to the man you claim to love doesn’t count, in your eyes.” Then, “You raped him. Did you know that I’ve treated torture survivors who were raped by less than savory First Order officers? It nearly destroys them. Makes them feel like they’re the ones at fault, like they invited the attack. And yet they manage to get up and make it through another day. That’s what your prisoner does. Even after you robbed him of a beautiful, sacred experience thanks to your own selfishness, he pushed through. He was still kind. Now that I’m laying it out to you, who's truly the coward?”
You, the unspoken answer was.
Was he? The thought was unbearable.
“I wanted to tell him," Zar said. That was the only, feeble defense that he could think of in regards to what he’d done — and what he’d not done.
“And you didn’t,” said the medic. “I can imagine this conversation would have gone so much differently if you hadn’t been a coward. If you’d told him the truth. If you had been willing to let him go.” A beat. “Was he a possession to you? A trophy?”
That was actually a good question, Zar thought. He could remember, when they were both children, and Zar had had that feeling of fascination and wanting to possess. He’d tried to be friendly towards Ben, offering him gifts and being confused when those gifts didn’t make Ben happy. Now that he thought about it, the ball hadn’t been where he’d fallen for Ben. Anyone could say something flattering. It was the idea of being unimportant to someone you’d loved so much that was, in the end, painful.
It hadn’t been the idea of winning Ben, though winning the prince would have been another accomplishment to add to Zar’s long list. It was the brown eyes of a child, brown eyes that Zar couldn’t see any happiness in. It was the desire to see him smile, even a little. It was little bits of sweets from the kitchen and a feeling like Ben was more important than just winning the admirers. The crude oafs that were supposed to replace Black Squadron in this parallel world, the swooning women...it was like they were unimportant next to his obsession with Ben.
“I loved him. I still do. More than any trophy I could acquire.”
The woman scoffed. “And I’m Queen Amidala.”
She continued to treat him, but Zar could feel her contempt for him. Like he was a mistake better off dead. Zar tried to think about if he could have possibly raped Ben. It didn’t make sense; you couldn’t rape someone you loved.
You couldn’t do what barbarians did to captive women, to a man whose attention you were practically ravenous for. You simply couldn’t. Zar himself — he couldn’t be a rapist.
This woman — somehow, she thought Ben was a victim, when he had everything, when he grew up with a roof over his head and rich quarters and everything. When he grew up a prince. When he was occasionally discussed in hushed tones as being worthy of Snoke...and Zar was nothing.
Zar had tried to make him happy, tried to defend him from ravening wolves...and Ben still hadn’t found him worthy. It would have been easy to think he missed the praise and attention, though he certainly wasn’t used to people thinking of him as a monster.
It was Ben that felt like a stab, or someone sinking their teeth into Zar. Ben, who kept rejecting him, again and again, who in his dreams kept walking away.
It was the fact that in the end, he’d allowed this one man to have power over him.
***
It was Kalonia who spoke to Leia, later, in the Command Center.
“Well,” Leia said. “How is he?” She couldn’t help but hope, even though it was very much against the Resistance wishing torture on their prisoners, that Zar was in the worst pain imaginable.
Stang, was that what it was like to be a mother? Having that darker side of you?
“Recovering,” Kalonia said. “He’s under the delusion that somehow, he’s in love with your son. That he can’t have raped Ben, because he’s in love with him.”
There was outrage, of course. But also horror. “No,” Leia said. “This isn’t love. You don’t do these...things to those you love.” Laughing at their mistreatment. Lying to them and gaslighting them. Tricking them into sex.
“Exactly,” Kalonia said grimly. “I thought Zar couldn’t disgust me more. I was wrong.”
Leia sighed. “Harter, I was a fool. If I had killed Snoke myself, this wouldn’t have happened. They abused my little angel, and it’s my fault.”
“Snoke would have found a way. Or his underlings. Leia...you did your best. You couldn’t see the future.”
“Still,” Leia said. “The fact that Poe, the actual Poe, is helping him is a miracle. I can at least thank the Force for that miracle...as well as having him back.”
She didn’t cry. Even if she wanted to, it was rare that Leia actually broke down. She’d wanted to, after Alderaan, after Bespin, but she never did. Her voice trembled though, like it was on the edge of a vibroblade.
“Leia,” Kalonia said. “Get some rest. And please, forgive yourself. You don’t have to forgive that monster, of course. But forgive yourself. That’s the only person you have to forgive, after everything.”
Even as Kalonia left, Leia wished that she could forgive herself.
Trigger warning for discussions of kidnapping, child abuse (primarily emotional), partner rape, torture, obsession with a person, etc.
Zar was a child in Clawdite years when Ben was brought to him.
He was vaguely aware of his parents arguing with their friends — Clawdites meant to imitate his counterpart’s parents. Zar wondered how he was supposed to fit in to the image of a child that he had never met — about things that little Zar was too naive, too sheltered to understand.
The human child was shivering, shaking like a leaf. The way he looked — Zar couldn’t help but want to reach out, to comfort him. To make sure that he was all right. He was so tiny. Odd-looking too; did human children really look that odd and sad?
“Ben!” he chirped. “Ben, hi!"
Ben looked up at him. Even the look in his eyes, of anger and confusion and misery...Zar wanted to wipe it away. And even then there was something in him that he would have recognized as a desire to possess.
“It’s not that scary here!” Zar said. “You’ll like it here. The castle’s beautiful...”
“Where’s home?” Ben finally said. “This isn’t home.”
“You are home, Ben.”
And even then, Zar couldn’t help but feel a deep pit in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to tell lies. Was it really telling a lie if it was going along with something a grown-up was saying?
***
It was the adult Zar who woke up, finding himself not in a place like one of the palace’s spare bedrooms, but in a cold white medbay. He had a feeling, really, that he was off to a bad start; he knew that being in the Resistance’s hands would inevitably mean torture. Snoke had told him campfire stories about it, how the Resistance was willing to torture their prisoners if it meant punishing them. “They see us as nothing more than savages. Barely worthy of respect. Like all terrorists, they think they’re right and we’re wrong...”
There was a woman sitting over him — a woman who looked to be older, but not particularly gray-haired. Zar knew that the Resistance had women in their ranks as pilots, bombers, medics...of course they’d be foolish enough to do it, Zar thought. His father, and the culture of the parallel world he lived in — women were considered lesser than men by default. “The only thing about them that isn’t inferior is their ass and their tits, and how good they are in the sheets.” That was what Arkos had once said. “Otherwise, they’re just castrating, shrewish creatures who’ll act like they love you and then dismantle you.”
In that sense, following his father’s logic, Ben was very much like a woman.
“So you’re awake,” the medic said. Her voice sounded crisp, calm, and Zar could feel that she hated him. Being on base, surrounded by people who thought he was a monster... “You know, it is a miracle that Ben actually didn’t have you killed, but I guess Jedi can be miraculous that way.”
So he had embraced his true heritage as well. Not as a prince, but a Jedi.
The medic got to work. To her credit (and Zar’s surprise), she didn’t torture him. Even if treating the blaster wound where that swine Han Solo had shot him was painful, along with the (unintentional) lightsaber wounds that Ben had given him. “You’re thinking that I’d torture you, no doubt. Propaganda Snoke put in your head. I won’t do that. You should be grateful we’re showing you mercy, considering you’re a torturer and an abuser with just a side of rapist.”
“That’s a lie,” Zar finally managed to hiss. Him, a rapist? He hadn’t told Ben the truth (even though he’d wanted to) but...a rapist? The thought was impossible. He hadn’t brutalized Ben. He hadn’t forced himself inside, or made Ben force himself inside. "I would never...”
“Oh, so I presume you psychologically abusing and lying to the man you claim to love doesn’t count, in your eyes.” Then, “You raped him. Did you know that I’ve treated torture survivors who were raped by less than savory First Order officers? It nearly destroys them. Makes them feel like they’re the ones at fault, like they invited the attack. And yet they manage to get up and make it through another day. That’s what your prisoner does. Even after you robbed him of a beautiful, sacred experience thanks to your own selfishness, he pushed through. He was still kind. Now that I’m laying it out to you, who's truly the coward?”
You, the unspoken answer was.
Was he? The thought was unbearable.
“I wanted to tell him," Zar said. That was the only, feeble defense that he could think of in regards to what he’d done — and what he’d not done.
“And you didn’t,” said the medic. “I can imagine this conversation would have gone so much differently if you hadn’t been a coward. If you’d told him the truth. If you had been willing to let him go.” A beat. “Was he a possession to you? A trophy?”
That was actually a good question, Zar thought. He could remember, when they were both children, and Zar had had that feeling of fascination and wanting to possess. He’d tried to be friendly towards Ben, offering him gifts and being confused when those gifts didn’t make Ben happy. Now that he thought about it, the ball hadn’t been where he’d fallen for Ben. Anyone could say something flattering. It was the idea of being unimportant to someone you’d loved so much that was, in the end, painful.
It hadn’t been the idea of winning Ben, though winning the prince would have been another accomplishment to add to Zar’s long list. It was the brown eyes of a child, brown eyes that Zar couldn’t see any happiness in. It was the desire to see him smile, even a little. It was little bits of sweets from the kitchen and a feeling like Ben was more important than just winning the admirers. The crude oafs that were supposed to replace Black Squadron in this parallel world, the swooning women...it was like they were unimportant next to his obsession with Ben.
“I loved him. I still do. More than any trophy I could acquire.”
The woman scoffed. “And I’m Queen Amidala.”
She continued to treat him, but Zar could feel her contempt for him. Like he was a mistake better off dead. Zar tried to think about if he could have possibly raped Ben. It didn’t make sense; you couldn’t rape someone you loved.
You couldn’t do what barbarians did to captive women, to a man whose attention you were practically ravenous for. You simply couldn’t. Zar himself — he couldn’t be a rapist.
This woman — somehow, she thought Ben was a victim, when he had everything, when he grew up with a roof over his head and rich quarters and everything. When he grew up a prince. When he was occasionally discussed in hushed tones as being worthy of Snoke...and Zar was nothing.
Zar had tried to make him happy, tried to defend him from ravening wolves...and Ben still hadn’t found him worthy. It would have been easy to think he missed the praise and attention, though he certainly wasn’t used to people thinking of him as a monster.
It was Ben that felt like a stab, or someone sinking their teeth into Zar. Ben, who kept rejecting him, again and again, who in his dreams kept walking away.
It was the fact that in the end, he’d allowed this one man to have power over him.
***
It was Kalonia who spoke to Leia, later, in the Command Center.
“Well,” Leia said. “How is he?” She couldn’t help but hope, even though it was very much against the Resistance wishing torture on their prisoners, that Zar was in the worst pain imaginable.
Stang, was that what it was like to be a mother? Having that darker side of you?
“Recovering,” Kalonia said. “He’s under the delusion that somehow, he’s in love with your son. That he can’t have raped Ben, because he’s in love with him.”
There was outrage, of course. But also horror. “No,” Leia said. “This isn’t love. You don’t do these...things to those you love.” Laughing at their mistreatment. Lying to them and gaslighting them. Tricking them into sex.
“Exactly,” Kalonia said grimly. “I thought Zar couldn’t disgust me more. I was wrong.”
Leia sighed. “Harter, I was a fool. If I had killed Snoke myself, this wouldn’t have happened. They abused my little angel, and it’s my fault.”
“Snoke would have found a way. Or his underlings. Leia...you did your best. You couldn’t see the future.”
“Still,” Leia said. “The fact that Poe, the actual Poe, is helping him is a miracle. I can at least thank the Force for that miracle...as well as having him back.”
She didn’t cry. Even if she wanted to, it was rare that Leia actually broke down. She’d wanted to, after Alderaan, after Bespin, but she never did. Her voice trembled though, like it was on the edge of a vibroblade.
“Leia,” Kalonia said. “Get some rest. And please, forgive yourself. You don’t have to forgive that monster, of course. But forgive yourself. That’s the only person you have to forgive, after everything.”
Even as Kalonia left, Leia wished that she could forgive herself.
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Date: 2020-06-17 03:09 am (UTC)