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[Iymril]

​

She had made her decision and that is the way it would be. Zira would sleep in their bed, with them at night. It was something they both wanted for two different reasons. Iymril hungered to feel like they once had. They wanted someone alongside them. Someone to support their dreams and goals. Someone to bask in their successes with them.

Zira on the other hand? She just wanted to feel secure. Safe from the Galaxy. She wanted to feel like she was something more to her owner than a toy. Iymril would give her that in exchange for a sliver of what they wanted as well. An illusion both could enjoy together as they rested. Another fantasy to cling to.

It was at Zira’s response before she left that gave Iymril pause. While they didn’t get up to chase her and apologize, because why would they? She was just a slave after all. It did make them reflect on what she’d said.

She never made a choice until just now.

She felt like she didn’t have a choice but to sleep with Melne. Iymril wondered if they’d really ever given her a choice. Had they forced her to do this? What would they have done if she didn’t? Were they any better than her former masters? Or were they far worse?

Why did any of this matter?

Iymril eventually finished their breakfast and without realizing it cleaned their own dishes. Once they were done they walked towards the dressing room and stood in the doorway. They’d watch Zira with her stoney expression as she picked clothes.

“Is that your impression of me?” They asked after a moment. “Because it is rather good.”

It was a joke. Maybe not a good one but one nonetheless. Iymril wouldn’t apologize for what they’d said to her or done to her. But they would at least try to clear the air between them.

“Show me what you’ve picked.” Iymril instructed. “And then show me what you’re going to wear as well.”

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

“My lord?” She asked in genuine confusion when they asked about doing an impression of them. In truth, she didn’t realize how stone faced she appeared. It was a symptom of her detaching herself from intrusive thoughts, but she made a point to be more aware of what her face portrayed.

When they asked about outfits, Prani rolled out a stunning, but classy dress that spoke to Iymril’s personality and fashion style, “I believe this would be a smart choice for you, my lord,” Prani said as she let them inspect the dress.

“And here is what I will wear,” Zira said as she laid out the dress for herself. Tasteful and classy enough to pass for their wife, and yet considerably less remarkable than Iymril’s dress to eliminate any possibility of upstaging them.

As she gazed at the dresses, she couldn’t help but think about the twisted reality of attending the funeral of someone you murdered. As much as she despised it, there was a sick satisfaction from imagining this scenario with past masters that tormented her relentlessly. If she had been able to orchestrate their death personally and then enjoy the funeral and feast afterwards…it was such a cathartic and exhilarating prospect that she surprised herself with her own dark thoughts.

Outwardly she gave Iymril a polite smile, “What do you think, my lord? Are you ready to get started on your hair and makeup?”

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril heard the confusion in Zira’s voice. It broke the near illusion of her being almost at least part Sephi. Iymril remained silent as she quickly adapted and rolled out the dress they had selected for them.

Emotionless ruby eyes surveyed her selection. It would likely catch Mr. Melne off guard with Iymril presenting more feminine than masculine. It would give the man a false sense of security and superiority. Hopefully it would be enough to lure him away and ensure their hooks were in him for as long as he lived.

They glanced at Zira’s dress. They were both acceptable selections. The Sephi turned their head to regard their servant and gave her a single slow nod of approval.

“These will do perfectly Zira. Excellent choices.” They replied. “Come help me with my hair and make up. We both must look the part of royalty in grieving.” Iymril told her calmly.

With that Iymril would pluck up the dress and begin slipping out of their robe. They didn’t care if Zira stood there or left. She could watch or leave. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen all of them already.

They would begin with their hair, allowing Zira to braid their hair precisely the way they enjoyed it while presenting more feminine. The long single braid would cascade down and over their shoulder. They’d wear a thin choker necklace with an onyx gemstone in it, this would cover their Adam’s apple. After their hair, Iymril would sit and allow Zira to do their make up while they painted their nails a charcoal grey. They wanted something more subtle, to accept their faux sorrow. Finally they would slip into their dress and allow Zira to zip up their back.

Once Zira was ready, Iymril would select silver and oynx jewelry for both of them and a black mini-purse each. Then they would hand her the same wedding set she’d worn to the gala. They would pause to regard an inscription written in the flowing script of Thustran on the inside of their father’s wedding band. Then they would slide it on and select a pair of black heels to wear.

“Are you ready Zira?” Iymril asked before opening the door to begin their journey to the spaceport.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira truly enjoyed styling and braiding Iymril’s hair. It was a relaxing activity for her along with applying makeup to their face. Their refined, immaculate features provided the perfect canvas and she was free to paint and create to her heart’s content. She perfected the eyeliner, the mascara, the eyeshadow that complemented their skin.

When it came time to zip them up, she had to stand on a stool to do so. At the end of it, Zira admired her work, looking at Iymril, “You look gorgeous,” She said, knowing it was unnecessary to state. They knew they were stunning, but she was complimenting her own work more than them. The transformation was brilliant and with it died her physical attraction to Iymril. Until they slipped back into their masculine presentation, of course.

“I’m ready,” Zira responded, feeling more at ease whenever Iymril adopted their feminine styles. She was largely silent for the journey there, watching as they arrived at a large ornate building that overlooked a stunning backdrop of a well maintained cemetery. There were rows upon rows of above ground tombs that were uniquely crafted.

She fell into step beside Iymril, spotting Mr. Melne right away. He cast a glance towards Iymril, his gaze lingering in surprise for a moment before he looked at Zira. She could see the guilt flash in his eyes as he quickly pretended not to notice their arrival just yet.

“I bet you’ve been to a lot of these,” Zira blurted with dry humor before she could stop herself. What an obtuse thing to say and mock their age! She ate her words and looked at the ground, “Apologies.. I think I slipped right back into Mrs. Auvryt’tar’s role even outside of earshot..”

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

During their travels, Zira was unusually quiet. She normally talked to them about something while they traveled. Be it questions about them, watching a movie on the holo, or even just asking how she could help them touch up. But this time? Nothing.

That struck Iym as odd.

Despite that, they didn’t push anything. Iymril figured their question deeply bothered her. It was something they could address later, right now? Their mind had to be focused.

When they landed on Vulpter for the funeral, Iymril took Zira’s hand in their own. They guided them into the funeral ceremony, immediately noticing the look of shock written on Orys’ face when he saw them. A look that transformed into one of guilt when he saw Zira.

They had hi-

Zira’s words brought Iymril their own scheming mind. Her joke wasn’t as funny as she thought to them. Ruby eyes that reflected no emotion fell to her from the corner of their eye. They gazed down at her for a moment before returning to the task at hand. Only a twitch of their ear would reveal Iym’s irritation at her comment. When she began to apologize, Iymril lightly squeezed her hand to shut her up.

“You are my wife and have been caught cheating. Remember?” They whispered through thin lips and a tightened jaw. “Making snide comments sells the story until we get him alone.” Iymril told her. “You cannot be seen apologizing though. Our marriage is a loveless one.”

Iymril would force emotion into their eyes and onto their face after that. They mimicked sumpathy and sadness. It was a strange thing to see, someone who showed every physical sign of grieving for another with no tears. They steadily approached the front of the visitation line and the closed casket.

Iymril overheard individuals talking about how her body had never been found. Another person whispered that Mr. Melne’s hope seems to have all but faded. Perfect. It meant he was broken beyond repair and soon he would belong to them.

When the pair reached the front of the line, Iymril would lightly touch Orys’ arm. Their brow furrowed before Iym glanced from him to their “wife”.

“Sir Orys, we are so sorry to hear about your loss.” Iymril started. “A virtuous man like yourself?” They asked rhetorically. “You are almost like a Paladin who stands for truth and justice. You should never have had to lose your beloved while on a quest to defeat evil .” A small smile touched their lips as they uttered those cruel words.

The people behind Iymril looked between one another. They were confused. They whispered between themselves, asking who the strand Sephi in the dress was.

Orys looked horrified.

“We should speak soon about the events of that quest, yes?”

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Taking their words to heart, Zira eased into the role of the wife.

“Pull yourself together, darling,” She said with an icy drawl, “I clearly should have married a Sephi instead,” Zira added with an eye roll. She nonchalantly grabbed a glass of wine.

She could see Orys face crumbling under Iymril’s brutal assault. Zira decided to play an alternative tactic, “Pardon my husband,” She said as her gaze turned to Iymril and flicked up and down, “If you can call him that..” Zira muttered dryly before she looked back at Orys, “He doesn’t get enough air to his head when he wears my corset too tight,” She extracted her hand from Iymril’s, gliding towards Mr. Melne, “How have you been, Orys?” She asked in a quieter voice, finding a deeper understanding with the man as she tugged him away.

“I…I shouldn’t be talking to you..” Orys fumbled over his words, “I should have been there..I..”

“Shh,” Zira whispered, “I don’t want you to think for one second you had anything to do with this,” She said, “You are allowed to step away. You are allowed to have your hobbies. This was all an accident. You can’t keep punishing yourself, Orys..” She said gently, placing her hand over his.

“Oh..gods..” Orys began to sob, pulling Zira into a hug. She looked back at Iymril over his shoulder, calmly looping an arm around Orys while she sipped from her wine. Wrapping an arm around the man that was now completely, unconditionally, irredeemably under her spell. Her expression changed entirely once again when she was facing Orys, “It’s okay.. I… don’t regret what happened… a single bit,” She said barely above a whisper, “And neither should you.”

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril gritted their teeth as they watched the display Zira put on. Internally they were more than impressed with how effortlessly she manipulated Orys. It was almost second nature to her. Zira had been watching them, she had learning from them, and now? She was just as venomous as they were.

Iymril hadn’t wanted someone more on a long time than in that moment. They wanted her teeth biting into their shoulder, her nails digging furrows in their back. They wanted pain. They wanted pleasure. They wanted everything.

But, for whatever reason, they wanted her to want it as well.

As Zira led Orys away by the hand more guests whispered to themselves. They were wondering who these two aliens were. How Orys knew them. Why he was walking away from his wife’s funeral ceremony. And why the strange Tiefling woman was so comfortable around him.

Inwardly, Iymril beamed at the situation that was brewing. The pressure mounting would force Orys’ hand. Zira would get whatever she pleased for this.

Iymril waited for Zira’s hug to finish before they spoke again.

“Oh don’t regret it noble Paladin.” They hissed. “But know there is a price to be paid.” They allowed a small smile to cut its way onto their lips. “You see, the Lich Queen unknowingly wore a Necklace of Scrying, the Lich King knows.” They took a step forward at that and raised their voice slightly above a whisper. “And this Paladin has risked everything without realizing it.” Iymril had fight to keep the Dark Side’s corruption from bleeding into their eyes.

Iymril fell silent after those words and allowed themself to calm down. They had to allow the corruption to leave their veins before their passion gave them away. With the situation Orys was in accented, Zira would be free to finish the task of blackmailing him.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira and Orys were virtually inseparable the rest of the evening. Though guests made passing comments, most agreed he was simply leaning onto a friend’s shoulder for comfort. The two exchanged hushed whispers and walked around the courtyard. At certain points, Orys could be seen laughing at a joke she made, visibly cheered up by her presence. Then the body language turned slightly more serious and very engaged. Through it all, Orys took every opportunity he could to touch her - a hand graze here, needing yet another hug or just plain sitting real close.

The rest of the party went without incident and Zira didn’t return to Iymril again until after almost everyone had left. She had been watching her drinking, but even then she sported a buzz since Orys insisted she join him for drinks.

With no one else in sight, Zira gave a respectful bow, slipping back into her subservient role, “My lord,” She said politely, “I have convinced Mr. Melne to agree to a plan to ‘run away’ with me and transfer a sizeable chunk of his funds into an account under Mrs. Auvryt’tar. Naturally this will be an account you set up. Additionally, he has agreed that sending the droids to Korriban will keep you, the spiteful and jealous husband, from acting out against me. All under the guise of a plot for me to leave you.”

Zira gazed up at them, “Is there anything else you need from me, my lord?” She asked flatly in a tone that could put Iymril’s even manner of speech to shame.

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

​

To cement their part, Iym seemed to briefly look for their wife. But the pair had long ago slipped off together, Iym could sense them of course. Orys was a beacon of contrasting emotion. He was happy to see Zira, overwhelmed by grief, but what reminded Iym of themself was the flicker of excitement. It caused them to pause.

Was that the seedlings of love?

Iymril closed the rest of their senses off for the evening. They knew that feeling. They knew the pain it brought. They didn’t want to feel it blooming in another, it struck too close to home.

When Zira returned to Iymril, they’d find the Sephi sitting on a pew. They were leaned forward, their elbows rested on their knees, their hands hung limply between their legs. They were lost in thoughts of the past. So much so, they barely felt Zira’s approach. It was only when she spoke that ruby eyes lifted to regard her.

“You’ve done well tonight Zira.” They told her as they forced themself upright. “You secured everything I desired and so you will have what you desire in return.” Iym explained. “What do you want?” They asked her.

There was a momentary pause as Iymril regarded the woman they had come to know. It was only in that moment when they were alone that they realized something was wrong. Their ears twitched slightly, their brow furrowed a hair deeper than usual. For the first time, Iymril was curious about what was going on with her.

“Is something the matter?” They asked. “This is the second time you’ve pulled away so thoroughly.” Iym pointed out.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

What did she want?

She wanted Iym to never enter her mind again. She wanted a sanctuary all on her own where no one could desecrate even if her body could never be that. She wanted nothing more than a place all on her own. Just a glimpse of what she had felt back on Kuat. She wanted a real weapon to train with. She wanted to join those classes.

She wanted everything that would alarm Iymril and make them paranoid of her doing exactly what she was likely to do.

“I am content,” Zira said simply with a smile, “I am not accustomed to being permitted desires and wants, so it is overwhelming for me,” This was factual, and something she still couldn’t comprehend, “I would be honored to have whatever you deem fit.”

The question about pulling away was alarming, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. The hint of fear was there again - the fear of disappointing her master. Zira pondered for a moment, thinking about all the time she had spent around Sith. She thought of their manner of speech, their approach to things, their philosophies.

“My lord,” Zira said calmly, “I am executing everything you ask of me and, based on your feedback, doing so admirably,” She smiled at them, “As long as you are getting what you need from me, does it truly matter why or how I perceive things or act?” She knew it would feed into their ego very intentionally. Zira wanted to remain nothing to them.

It was the safest place to be.

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

​

She was content? No, she was afraid. She was a creature that lived in eternal fear. She should, they could kill her in a moments notice. But Iymril didn’t push the topic, instead they simply thought on her answer.

“Very well.” Came their reply.

Her response to their question was flat and said as a report. That being said, she wasn’t wrong. Her feelings shouldn’t factor into their decision making, she was a slave. She was their slave. Iym was becoming aware of how their behavior regarding her was changing.

They hated it.

“You are correct.” They told her. “Your feelings mean nothing to me.” Iymril lied to her and themself. “Come, the credits we have gotten from Mr. Melne need to be invested properly.” They explained as they stood to their feet.

Iymril would guide the pair of them back to their ship. They’d allow Zira to make herself comfortable as they did the same. A routine was forming, she’d be able to watch holo and Iymril would sketch and draw.

“I am going to open a tailoring shop.” Iymril told Zira. “You will be helping me there, I will be purchasing another slave to handle some of your duties.” They continued. “They will tend the house, you will tend to me and aid with the business.” Ruby eyes glanced up from their sketch book and to her.

“You’ve become too useful to me to be underutilized. Understood?”

@Sreeya