“You know, we really do need to get you back at some point,” said Kylo, a hand drifting through Brendol’s hair as the prince rested on his chest.
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” murmured Brendol.
“I know. I just feel like it’s worth saying. The Empire will fall apart without you.”
“I don’t care. Grandfather never made it secret that he didn’t want me as his heir, and my father’s still trying to get his respect so he’s even less subtle about how I’m going to be a disappointment as Emperor.”
Kylo didn’t say anything for a long time, surprised by how much about himself Brendol had suddenly divulged. He hated talking about himself, and to suddenly let loose what was comparatively a monologue was surprising. “You don’t get that impression from the holos,” he finally said. “I don’t get along with my family either.”
“Your problems are a lot simpler than mine. You’re just sleeping with the enemy of your birth system, that’s all.”
“And that I use the Dark Side. It’s an old concept, the Gray Jedi, and I held more with them than I do the Lightside Jedi.”
Brendol buried himself into Kylo’s chest even further, and muttered against his skin, “If I were force sensitive, I’d have to use the Dark Side. Grandfather wouldn’t allow me to ever use the Light.”
“Is…is that why your family thinks you’re a disappointment? Because you’re not Force Sensitive?” Brendol’s nod was small, he barely registered that he had done it at all. “The Force is useful, I use it a lot when I’m in a tricky spot in a job, but not that interesting, really. It’s like...like a tool. You have a toolbox, and you have the Light and you have the Dark. And you also have your wits, your skills, and everything else. You don’t have to use the Force to do something extraordinary.” He took a deep breath and said, “You know, Kylo isn’t my real name?”
Brendol looked up at him then, clearly confused of where this was going. “No, I didn’t.”
“I’m Ben Organa-Solo. Now you know why I get so cagey when we go into Republic space. Kylo’s separate from my family’s achievements, lets me do things on my own terms. But my father, he made the Kessel run in twelve parsecs.” There was no understanding of what that meant on Brendol’s face, and it made Kylo grin. “The Kessel mines? Smugglers ride the rim of their sphere of power next to the Empire’s. Most smugglers go at fifteen parsecs, it’s safer and less likely to get them caught. But it’s slow as anything. My dad, he ran it closer to the mines than anyone else.”
“You know I don’t condone at least half of your job.”
“What, because I take jobs against your Empire as much as the Republic? Look, the point is, my dad did something no one has ever done before, or since, and do you know his Force Sensitivity?” Brendol remained silent, but Kylo could nearly hear the words of his thoughts. As it was, he got the idea from the emotions bleeding out of him. His father and grandfather had drilled it into him that he must have had at least some latent abilities to do anything impressive. “He doesn’t have any sensitivity whatsoever. Not even in the ability to resist it. You can use any trick on him at all and he won’t realize. He’s that insensitive to it.”
“Have you used a Force trick on your father?”
“No, and if I have my way I never will because I’ll never see him again. Bren, you’re the smartest person I know. I don’t have any great political leanings one way or another, but I can tell you’ll be a great Emperor. If you ever go back.”
“If my family wants me, they can find me. Grandfather’s the strongest man in the Force, he could seek me out.”
“Well, maybe.”
“Are you saying my Grandfather–”
“There’s a reason I keep saying I should take you back someday. People, even with the Force, have a hard time finding me. My grandfather, he used to tell me and my cousin stories from Tatooine, and my uncle would join in. Lots of trickster stories and the slaying of the Masters. But then he’d always tell this story about Shmi, his mother. How she went to the desert and how the desert spoke to her. My grandfather was conceived by the Force itself, and that’s not really gone away in the family. If I don’t want to be found, people can’t find me.”
“That must be useful in your line of work.”
“Very much so, yeah. So, if your grandfather’s looking for you, he can probably tell you’re alive but not much beyond that. That’s why I keep saying I should probably take you back.”
Brendol didn’t move for a long time, and Kylo could feel the edges of Brendol’s turmoil. He hadn’t accepted to go back because he had been hoping with some small part of him that his family would come looking for him. He hadn’t wanted to go back because he didn’t feel worthy of his title and had wanted, a little bit, to be proven wrong. And not he didn’t want to go back because of some attachment to Kylo.
The palace was boring, filled with lessons of how to run the Empire and the same lecture over dinner every night from either his father or grandfather when the Emperor dined with his family of how much of a disappointment it was that Brendol didn’t have any sensitivity and that his mother should have passed before being able to produce a Force sensitive heir. The only respite was when they went to the summer palace on the lake and he could go to the pavilion there and escape for one small moment.
When he had been kidnapped at first, it had been terrifying, listening to the death gang talk about ransoms and how if the Imperial Family didn’t fold how the Crown Prince would be treated. The cruel laughter as they debated cutting off toes or filming a holoporn starring the Prince himself, it had been the single worst moment of Brendol’s life. And then an alarm sounded and the ship was hit, sending the gang into a panic. And then there was Kylo, groaning to see Brendol in the cargo hold wearing only the bedclothes he had worn when he had been kidnapped and saying, “Seriously? I hit a death gang and all they’ve got is a skinny kid?”
Going with Kylo had been at once exhilarating and terrifying, but in a better way. There was no threat of being hurt to squeeze money from his dispassionate family, it was just adventure after adventure, punctuated by long nights for tumbling in the sheets. Brendol had never been without a chaperone, even in that moment where they had been thinking of a marriage for him, and had only ever fired anything more than a blaster and only ever at a target. He hadn’t even been allowed to engage in anything remotely close to a duel.
Duels had been the most dangerous thing Brendol had thought he could be a part of. To stand at ten paces and to fire upon the opponent before they could fire at you, that had been the extent of his imagination of danger. And now Kylo swore in trilling Shyriiwook whenever they ran into pirates or another branch of the death gang, trying to steal Brendol back and shouting at him to take the cannons. Brendol had passed tool after tool to Kylo as he hung upside down fixing some small piece of machinery that would supposedly get them killed if it wasn’t fixed immediately, had taken the helm himself a few times, had taken one of Kylo’s blasters to hold off those who actually managed to board the ship until Kylo could disconnect them and get away to safety.
Life with Kylo was so much more exciting than back at the palace. There, he was a disappointment heir who they prayed would produce a Force Sensitive child himself, so he could be forgotten. To be told to both be forgotten and to make a mark on history, to be told he was the next Emperor and in the same breath told he needed to make sure his successor was more suited to be Emperor, that was far worse than just being told by an irate Kylo, “Oh of course the Emperor needs all the covers, do forgive me for trying to have a corner of the blanket, your Imperial highness.”
“I don’t want to go back,” said Brendol. “I like it better here.”
“Okay, but I like my head attached to my neck, is there a way to make entirely certain I can keep it that way?”
Brendol shrugged. “I don’t know. But I know the fact that I’ve been sleeping with you isn’t going to do me any favors either.”
“Great. So we’re risking both our necks doing this.”
“Aren’t you the one who always shoots down my suggestions by saying ‘what’s life without a little risk?’”
Kylo shifted then, until he was propped up over Brendol, straddling his hips and hands intertwining with his and drawing them high above Brendol’s head. He pressed a kiss to Brendol’s lips, a familiar prelude to their usual bedsport. “I take it you’re alright with running a deal of spice into deep Imperial space, then. There’s a buyer in the Imperial Capital who’s offering top credit.”
“Not on your life, Ben.” But he pressed himself against Kylo best he could, skin against skin still a little sticky from their previous bout of sex. Twenty five years of nothing and now he could have it almost as often as he wanted it, who could blame him for being a little eager?
[minifill] A Moment Between Jobs
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” murmured Brendol.
“I know. I just feel like it’s worth saying. The Empire will fall apart without you.”
“I don’t care. Grandfather never made it secret that he didn’t want me as his heir, and my father’s still trying to get his respect so he’s even less subtle about how I’m going to be a disappointment as Emperor.”
Kylo didn’t say anything for a long time, surprised by how much about himself Brendol had suddenly divulged. He hated talking about himself, and to suddenly let loose what was comparatively a monologue was surprising. “You don’t get that impression from the holos,” he finally said. “I don’t get along with my family either.”
“Your problems are a lot simpler than mine. You’re just sleeping with the enemy of your birth system, that’s all.”
“And that I use the Dark Side. It’s an old concept, the Gray Jedi, and I held more with them than I do the Lightside Jedi.”
Brendol buried himself into Kylo’s chest even further, and muttered against his skin, “If I were force sensitive, I’d have to use the Dark Side. Grandfather wouldn’t allow me to ever use the Light.”
“Is…is that why your family thinks you’re a disappointment? Because you’re not Force Sensitive?” Brendol’s nod was small, he barely registered that he had done it at all. “The Force is useful, I use it a lot when I’m in a tricky spot in a job, but not that interesting, really. It’s like...like a tool. You have a toolbox, and you have the Light and you have the Dark. And you also have your wits, your skills, and everything else. You don’t have to use the Force to do something extraordinary.” He took a deep breath and said, “You know, Kylo isn’t my real name?”
Brendol looked up at him then, clearly confused of where this was going. “No, I didn’t.”
“I’m Ben Organa-Solo. Now you know why I get so cagey when we go into Republic space. Kylo’s separate from my family’s achievements, lets me do things on my own terms. But my father, he made the Kessel run in twelve parsecs.” There was no understanding of what that meant on Brendol’s face, and it made Kylo grin. “The Kessel mines? Smugglers ride the rim of their sphere of power next to the Empire’s. Most smugglers go at fifteen parsecs, it’s safer and less likely to get them caught. But it’s slow as anything. My dad, he ran it closer to the mines than anyone else.”
“You know I don’t condone at least half of your job.”
“What, because I take jobs against your Empire as much as the Republic? Look, the point is, my dad did something no one has ever done before, or since, and do you know his Force Sensitivity?” Brendol remained silent, but Kylo could nearly hear the words of his thoughts. As it was, he got the idea from the emotions bleeding out of him. His father and grandfather had drilled it into him that he must have had at least some latent abilities to do anything impressive. “He doesn’t have any sensitivity whatsoever. Not even in the ability to resist it. You can use any trick on him at all and he won’t realize. He’s that insensitive to it.”
“Have you used a Force trick on your father?”
“No, and if I have my way I never will because I’ll never see him again. Bren, you’re the smartest person I know. I don’t have any great political leanings one way or another, but I can tell you’ll be a great Emperor. If you ever go back.”
“If my family wants me, they can find me. Grandfather’s the strongest man in the Force, he could seek me out.”
“Well, maybe.”
“Are you saying my Grandfather–”
“There’s a reason I keep saying I should take you back someday. People, even with the Force, have a hard time finding me. My grandfather, he used to tell me and my cousin stories from Tatooine, and my uncle would join in. Lots of trickster stories and the slaying of the Masters. But then he’d always tell this story about Shmi, his mother. How she went to the desert and how the desert spoke to her. My grandfather was conceived by the Force itself, and that’s not really gone away in the family. If I don’t want to be found, people can’t find me.”
“That must be useful in your line of work.”
“Very much so, yeah. So, if your grandfather’s looking for you, he can probably tell you’re alive but not much beyond that. That’s why I keep saying I should probably take you back.”
Brendol didn’t move for a long time, and Kylo could feel the edges of Brendol’s turmoil. He hadn’t accepted to go back because he had been hoping with some small part of him that his family would come looking for him. He hadn’t wanted to go back because he didn’t feel worthy of his title and had wanted, a little bit, to be proven wrong. And not he didn’t want to go back because of some attachment to Kylo.
The palace was boring, filled with lessons of how to run the Empire and the same lecture over dinner every night from either his father or grandfather when the Emperor dined with his family of how much of a disappointment it was that Brendol didn’t have any sensitivity and that his mother should have passed before being able to produce a Force sensitive heir. The only respite was when they went to the summer palace on the lake and he could go to the pavilion there and escape for one small moment.
When he had been kidnapped at first, it had been terrifying, listening to the death gang talk about ransoms and how if the Imperial Family didn’t fold how the Crown Prince would be treated. The cruel laughter as they debated cutting off toes or filming a holoporn starring the Prince himself, it had been the single worst moment of Brendol’s life. And then an alarm sounded and the ship was hit, sending the gang into a panic. And then there was Kylo, groaning to see Brendol in the cargo hold wearing only the bedclothes he had worn when he had been kidnapped and saying, “Seriously? I hit a death gang and all they’ve got is a skinny kid?”
Going with Kylo had been at once exhilarating and terrifying, but in a better way. There was no threat of being hurt to squeeze money from his dispassionate family, it was just adventure after adventure, punctuated by long nights for tumbling in the sheets. Brendol had never been without a chaperone, even in that moment where they had been thinking of a marriage for him, and had only ever fired anything more than a blaster and only ever at a target. He hadn’t even been allowed to engage in anything remotely close to a duel.
Duels had been the most dangerous thing Brendol had thought he could be a part of. To stand at ten paces and to fire upon the opponent before they could fire at you, that had been the extent of his imagination of danger. And now Kylo swore in trilling Shyriiwook whenever they ran into pirates or another branch of the death gang, trying to steal Brendol back and shouting at him to take the cannons. Brendol had passed tool after tool to Kylo as he hung upside down fixing some small piece of machinery that would supposedly get them killed if it wasn’t fixed immediately, had taken the helm himself a few times, had taken one of Kylo’s blasters to hold off those who actually managed to board the ship until Kylo could disconnect them and get away to safety.
Life with Kylo was so much more exciting than back at the palace. There, he was a disappointment heir who they prayed would produce a Force Sensitive child himself, so he could be forgotten. To be told to both be forgotten and to make a mark on history, to be told he was the next Emperor and in the same breath told he needed to make sure his successor was more suited to be Emperor, that was far worse than just being told by an irate Kylo, “Oh of course the Emperor needs all the covers, do forgive me for trying to have a corner of the blanket, your Imperial highness.”
“I don’t want to go back,” said Brendol. “I like it better here.”
“Okay, but I like my head attached to my neck, is there a way to make entirely certain I can keep it that way?”
Brendol shrugged. “I don’t know. But I know the fact that I’ve been sleeping with you isn’t going to do me any favors either.”
“Great. So we’re risking both our necks doing this.”
“Aren’t you the one who always shoots down my suggestions by saying ‘what’s life without a little risk?’”
Kylo shifted then, until he was propped up over Brendol, straddling his hips and hands intertwining with his and drawing them high above Brendol’s head. He pressed a kiss to Brendol’s lips, a familiar prelude to their usual bedsport. “I take it you’re alright with running a deal of spice into deep Imperial space, then. There’s a buyer in the Imperial Capital who’s offering top credit.”
“Not on your life, Ben.” But he pressed himself against Kylo best he could, skin against skin still a little sticky from their previous bout of sex. Twenty five years of nothing and now he could have it almost as often as he wanted it, who could blame him for being a little eager?