Narrator's POV
A/N: This whole chapter is practically a battle scene without dialogue. If you can't stand that, I recommend reading only the last couple pages, but if you like intense lightsaber duels, read on!
He lies on the cold, metal ground before her, holding himself in pain, so much pain...
She swallows and stares at him, letting nothing get in her way. Not the sadness. Not the agony, not the regret. Not the urging, poking feel of Kyla trying to make an appearance in Demetrious' hard features and frozen personality.
Nothing.
He groans and curls into a ball, holding his knees to his chest, gritting his teeth in pain. There is no more lightning electrocuting his body; this is just the aftermath. The pain of the aftermath, that he might just consider to be worse.
He speaks. It is barely intelligible, but he speaks - in a hacked, wretched cough of pain.
"They're - going to destroy your battlestation," he croaks, "The - very thing - supporting - your Empire," Anakin breathes, ending in another groan of pain.
Come on Leia, Leia princess, where are you?
Demetrious ignores his words. She can hear his thoughts.
"She can't save you now, Skywalker," she snarls, her eyes sizzling under the bright lights of the metal hallway. "I locked her in there. It's a soundproof room," she points out, beginning to step towards him, "And she is only a child. I doubt your thoughts even reach her after passing through me..."
He squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to put his shields up. At a failed attempt, he stopped trying, and continued groaning out in aches, twisted aches that would not cease.
"Yet again have you failed to realize your children's importance," she states, stepping her boot right beside him. He hears it click against the metal floor beside him, watching her as he dares open his eyes for a split second.
Another burst of pain. He clenches his eyes shut and tries to tighten his body to better prepare himself for the outbursts of ache.
"Leia is my apprentice now," she tells him with a sigh, staring off down the hallway, "And nothing can change that."
He knows what he has to do. He knows what he has to say. Fighting this way, struggling without a real struggle, didn't seem mandatory to him...
"Just... kill me now," he breathes out, groaning as he lies beside her. She knits her eyebrows and glances down at him.
She stops for a second, and then Kyla appears from nowhere, making her lungs burn.
"I - I can't."
She closes her eyes and embraces the hatred for herself. She told herself, Kyla was no more, Kyla was dead - but at her sudden words, her unexpected, sweet words that came from her mouth, she stops.
"Yes you can," Anakin groans in reply, rolling around in pain, "Just - kill me, Kyla. Kill me and get this all over with. No more - enemies, no more revenge, just... your apprentice, your Empire, your Death Star..."
Demetrious is lost. Lost without a meaning to, without an aspiration to be lost in this world she had created for herself. This confusion, this worry, it wasn't what she wanted, what she bargained for... Not at all. It was probably the opposite. She wanted to rule without a tugging feel of regret on her heels, without the annoying little voice in her head that was still Kyla - yet, she couldn't...
"No." She takes a step forward, further down the hallway, her back to Anakin as he still lies, the pain slowly coming to a close...
She hangs her head. "I hate this!" She screams, holding her head in her hands as she did so. Her words weren't directed to Anakin, or anyone else besides... Kyla. "Make it stop already!"
Anakin narrows his eyes at her, realizing she is lost and thrashing around with her own thoughts. She was too entangled in her own worry, her own suffering.
As silently as he could, he sets his gloved hand firm on the ground to prop himself up. He slides against the metal wall as he picks up his heavy, aching body, silently regaining his posture on his two feet as Kyla stands feet before him, back turned, thrashing around in desperate confusion.
"You ruined everything, Kyla, you've lost your mind!" She screams out to the girl in her mind, the girl she knew she still was.
Anakin knows what he has to do. He cannot kill her, he would never be able to do such a thing, but he knows what he must do.
He ignites his saber.
The radiant blue light glows with the classic hum against the metal walls, reflecting the striking color everywhere he looked. He nears her, the tip of the saber nearing her cloaked back.
She stops. She senses it.
She cannot scream anymore. She knew who she really was.
She was Demetrious, and Demetrious would never go down without a fight.
Demetrious would kill Anakin if she must.
*Queue "Battle Of The Heroes"*
So she ignites hers too; red, hot, fiery. Red like her eyes; fiery like her soul, her lungs that burned with every moment, burning with regret and self-hatred. Her saber shines, brighter than his, darker in color, the color of blood, pain, evil. Sith. Double-sided blades reflected her two-faced personality - Anakin's eyes widened at the sight of the saber that reminded him of what killed his former Master's own Master.
She hisses, "You're a fool, Skywalker," before her dark cloak falls to the ground, revealing her pure black tunic. Instantly, she twirls on her heels and collides her blades with his.
The second the sabers collided, the static of the clashing hums ringing through the metal halls, he knew she was no match. He had trained her well; every trick, every stunt she knew, was his own. He had mastered his own ways, the ways he saw in her every movement.
But there is a difference in their fighting patterns; Demetrious fought very differently than Kyla. Demetrious had anger, hate; and she was not afraid to take it out on her brash movements with the saber. Kyla was more... strategic. She liked finding certain ways to fight, certain patterns, whereas Demetrious just fought with all her willing hatred.
Her anger is growing with every blow she takes to him with either side of her saber, clearly trying to kill him. They both grit their teeth as she swings and he blocks, the striking and clashing sounds of the sabers seeming to be the only thing they can hear anymore.
With every split second's glance he can take to her eyes as the sweat builts up on his forehead and his teeth nearly shatter from being clenched so tightly, he sees the anger in them. The hatred. The yellow color that was astounding; the red-rims that showed no sign of Kyla.
As they fight, they take steps, nearly running into each movement as she pressed the saber harder into his, forcefully trying to kill him.
The hallway was long. It seemed never-ending. Until they came to a solid metal door at the end that led to another assistant control room, lined with desks and monitors, rows of controls and levers and other gadgets that monitored the laser of the Death Star.
The door was closed. She slams his body against it, pressing the saber into his neck, closer, closer...
He wards it off with all his strength, his body shaking as he urges into blocking the saber from nearing his neck, his left hand clutching his saber as hers lay across his neck, the heat on his skin...
His gloved hand reaches to the side, slamming against the door, searching down the door for the switch that would open it. It had to be here, it had to be here somewhere -
The thick black glove finds something... A button. He presses it, and with a swoosh the metal door slides open, his back falling into the open space of the room. She loses her stature and stumbles a bit as he regains his posture, ready to block her again.
But at the same instant, they do the same thing - they raise their hands in attempt to Force push one another. Two forces of energy - light and dark - pushing against one another, their hands inches from each other as they use all their energy, yet the opposing forces don't give in. She scowls, her face complex with anger, hatred. They were both overcome with sweat, and even fear... But Demetrious was too arrogant. She knew she was going to win this.
Their shields of energy are only so compatible as they both hit each other at the same time. At last, they give in, their bursts of energy smacking both of them simultaneously. They both fly back, Demetrious slamming against the metal wall and Anakin slamming against a monitor, switching something that let out a howling monotone throughout the Imperial cruiser.
He groans softly as he gets up, reestablishing his stature, his lightsaber in front of him as she quickly leaps up, back-flipping dramatically through the air and ending with a collision of their sabers again. She strikes him again and again as he continues to shield her, yielding his saber before him, clashing it with hers as her anger infiltrated her, making her more powerful with every strike she took.
They exit the control room, lost for a sense of direction, her mind focused on killing him, his mind focused on not dying. It was an incredible sight; Sith versus Jedi, the blades of light colliding at a second's pace, quickly, harshly, with every movement, every conjoined effort of anger and fear.
They turn a corridor, still battling. Anakin was walking backwards now; she was plummeting the saber into his, gritting her teeth, clenching her fists around the saber. Her hair swung loose around her face, shading the anger in her veins, her eyes, her pale face.
His waves of hair clung to his sweaty face, the long locks getting in his way, almost in his eyes - which didn't seem to be a problem for her. She continued swinging, striking, taking heavy, rushed breaths with every strike.
The corridor led to a bridge connected to a hallway atop a Clone hangar, looking down upon it. On either sides of the narrow bridge was an unprotected trench that Demetrious planned on throwing Anakin down when given the opportunity.
They practically run towards the bridge as she pushes further and further, her feet moving quickly and stratigically beneath her like a dance routine; his feet were shuffling against the ground as he backed away from her swings, every one she took. Her feet neared his; with every step their boots were almost atop one another as he stepped back and she stepped forward.
To the far left and right of the narrow bridge were two other platforms with elevators on them to reach the Clone's hangars, but the elevators were unable to be reached from the narrow, lit-up bridge.
As they entered the bridge, Demetrious' anger was so apparent and surrounding that she was able to shatter the eleavtor from the inside out - Anakin's stomach churns at the ear-splitting sound of twisting, expanding metal as her anger bursted the elevator to her far right, a good distance across the trench from the bridge.
She throws up one half of the saber above his head which he blocks as they enter the hallway looking down upon one of the empty hangars. The other side of her saber strikes below his chest, another thing he is able to block as he staggers against the railing of the hallway, regaining his stance. He turns and has his back facing the long hallway as she continues to take all her anger out on him.
Demetrious lowers her double-sided saber and raises her booted foot, kicking him sharply. The Force was entertwined with her kick, blowing him back to the other end of the hallway. He lies on the ground for a split instant before swinging back up as she steps toward him, her face reading anger as she storms to him, her shoulders swinging with her every step as her eyes refused to leave his face.
She strikes again; one blow to the top of his left shoulder with the right side of her saber; he blocks it, prepared for the next few swings, almost knowing where they are going to hit. Before they can leave the other end of the hallway, his eyes glance to the left, to the open rail he could jump down and enter the hangar.
He does exactly this; he turns, flips off the railing, landing delicately on the ground - a way of landing that came easy to Jedi - and Sith.
She follows, flipping as many times as she wants until landing on her feet, anger still around her, anger still within her; even more than before.
She strides towards him, nearly screaming out in anger as their sabers collide again, striking faster, swifter, over and over and over... they had plenty space now in the spacious, empty hangar where the Clones' battleships were stationed.
Above the echoing sounds of their colliding sabers, Anakin makes out the faint monotone of the alarm he set off back in the control room. Now was certainly no time to ask what it meant - he blocks her saber as it nears his face - but the sound worried him.
Vwoom, vhwoom, crssshhh... crack!
Their sabers colliding was music to her ears; fear in his. She was so powerful, no wonder the whole galaxy was truly afraid of her.
He steps back and leaps onto a ledge peeking from the nearby hangar's wall, and from there, swings back onto the hallway as she follows shortly behind, swinging into his saber as she pressured him to walk backwards again, towards the end of the hallway.
He exits, sensing the hallway around him as he moves, knowing he cannot afford to slam into anything.
He has barely any time to think; she is very quick, too quick out of anger, hatred, vile wretchedness and an evil mindset.
With every swing her double-sided saber takes to him with a crash, a clack of humming sabers, his strength weakens; hers only grows. Their sabers colliding is a cackling frenzy as they stammer down the hallway, neither of them thinking. Only doing. Swinging, blocking.
They stumble into a meeting room on the far left of the hallway back in the main quarters of the cruiser. In the center is a table, alligned with dark chairs, a holonet in the center, a huge light the length of the table shining above them.
He backflips onto the table, landing powerfully on his two feet, close to the holonet. He slides his right foot back and the holonet slides off the table, crashing to the ground beneath it.
She clenches her fists tighter around the holster of her double-sided saber and abruplty leaps onto the table as well, using the Force before he can think to slide him off, crashing his body into the chairs, sprawling across them as they fall back along with him, his saber sliding from his grip and unignting.
Demetrious stands above him on the table, looking down upon him as he lay across the chairs on his back. He holds his hand out to his right and grabs his saber with the Force, igniting it as she lunges at him, her saber positioned in midair.
He doesn't have time to rise, so he lies on the ground as she stands above him now, having lunged from the table, holding her saber against his as her gloved hand reaches out and takes his neck, squeezing it, pressuring to choke him to death.
He gags, pressing his saber against one side of hers, his other hand clawing at his neck. His mouth gapes open, he feels his eyes begin to roll back... and then instantly, he brings his right knee up to her leg, slamming it into the back of hers, causing her knees to buckle.
She catches herself before falling as she lets go of his neck. He rolls to the right and rises, coughing a bit, his saber in his grip. He immediately, almost instinctively, raises his saber more to his left as she steps and swings, stopping her movement, letting the right side of her saber - the preferred side - press into his struggling blue light.
Demetrious hisses to him, the hot light of their sabers cracking only inches from their faces, "You have killed me mentally, Skywalker, I can sense it," she heaves, her breath nearly as hot as the sizzling blades, "But now it is my turn to kill you!" She lunges, twirling the left side of the blade up and striking his in the same position, inches from his face.
The cracking sound echoes through the meeting room whilst her voice bellows throughout the entire cruiser.
Anakin glances up at the light above them as her anger shatters it; he watches it sizzle, crack, and fall in some spots, breaking with shattered shrieks as they land upon the table they stand beside, pressuring and pressuring, neither of them giving in.
He clenches his teeth, his chest nearly bursting as he fights off the hot red blade that was so close to his face. The heat burned like the fire in her eyes; the sweat dripped off his forehead as he saw into her eyes that stared into his soul.
But as his eyes dart around, looking for an escape in the few moments he has, he doesn't think. He just acts.
He brings his right foot up, as she is standing a good enough distance for him to kick her down.
So he does.
She winces as he strikes her, relieving himself the pressured feeling of the heat from the sabers collided so close to his face.
He takes a breath, remaining ready for anything as she stands tall again, feet from him.
Instantly, his pale eyes dart towards the door - he knows just where to go.
So he leads her there by backing around the edge of the table, as she nears him.
She strikes once. He clashes his saber against hers and takes another step back, nearing the door as he circles around the table.
He backs up, moving his feet as quick as he could - step after step, practically bouncing on the soles of his boots as she did the same; heftily bounding towards him.
He stands in the doorway, having gathered himself a few feet from her now. She moves her head slightly downward and lets out an aggravated exhale through her nose, unigniting the left side of her saber as she nears him.
Now she knows she can have double the power to one side of the blade.
She lunges again, striking as he backs up through the doorway, circling the corner to the right. Just down this hall led to the hangar where Desmond was shot and killed.
In there was the perfect ledge he could stand upon, and successfully beat her, if his plan went as thought up.
It's the same as what had been; the same ear-splitting, twisted sound of the cracking, clashing, sparking sounds of the lightsabers colliding with every burst of light, every mixture of red and blue.
They reach the entrance to the hangar.
Anakin lets her take a few more swings which he is able to fight off, blocking them the way he knew how to do. Her anger was unable to be ceased; she had so much of it.
At last, Anakin spots the ledge out of the corner of his eye.
He steps back far enough from her and backflips onto the ledge, swirling through the air, the cold air that felt good on his sweated, burning face.
He stands upon it now as she stands a good distance away.
She stops walking, taking time to ignite the other end of her saber as he senses her anger growing.
He hoped this worked...
She leaps, lunging through the air towards him as he prepared himself for what was to happen.
Yet, still no thinking was involved. He had to do it. It had to be done.
His eyes lock upon her as she swirls towards him, her saber alligned horizontally, ready to strike.
He goes from underneath and to the left; one swing. One moment, following all the way through from the far left, all the way to his far right, both hands gripped to the hilt of his saber as he strikes.
He swings through her arms, one mechanical, one flesh, slicing them from her wrists as her leap is discontinued.
She falls to the floor, screaming out in pain.
He horrifiedly watches her fall, sprawling herself against the ground as he steps off the ledge and slides his saber away.
Hers rolls away, snapping and fizzing as it unignited, leaving her defenseless and handless.
She is screaming, and as Anakin looks at her, he sees her eyes almost burst into flames. He could sense all the anger she contained as he looks down at her, his chest rising and falling intensely with every heavy breath he took.
Demetrious' eyes wander up towards him. Yellow, hot, fire. They are fire. Her face is burning with hatred; her emotions read anger. Hate. Hate that she expresses as she clears her throat with a hack. She is twisting her body, squirming in pain, her veins illuminated, her eyes on fire.
She purses her lips as her eyes catch flame. She stares at him, seeing through him, through his soul as she takes no time to say what she'd been wanting to say, as it comes out in a hiss, a scream, a mixture of a cough, a cry, a yell of pain. She screams out, nearly breaking her former master once and for all...
"I hate you!"
A/N: Wow, am I bad at writing battle scenes. Maybe that's why there aren't too many in my books!
Anyways, I hope you guys imagined Obi-Wan and Anakin's initial Mustafar battle, as that was really what I was looking back to for reference on this one - you can kinda tell with the last words, obviously, and the Battle Of The Heroes song from when they were dueling. In fact, I listened to it on repeat the whole time I was writing this.
It really helped me bring the scene to life, and I hope you guys can see it as realistically as I can!
More updates coming soon, and I can't believe I reached 3k reads... thank you all SO much.
I hope I didn't kill you with The Feels...
- Claudia