𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 ²
𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐕𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧...
Anakin x Princess!Reader
Part 2
Previous chapter: Part 1
Overall series warning: 18+ content (smut), mature themes, swearing
Warnings: none
Last chapter recap: “Then what is it you want?” Your confused little doll's face made him want to laugh. It was cute just how clueless and pathetic you were in this situation. You were a princess, were you not? With power in the back of her hand? A slight smirk smeared across his face before he leaned closer. His breath hit your ear and your neck as he spoke, “I want you.” The tone fell octaves deep, cold, and dull. Who the hell was this man?
Summary: You were thrown into a foreign room with nothing to do but wait for the inevitable… the Sith Lord with that smooth voice.
Word Count: 1.3K+
Author’s note: Thank you all so much for the support so far, I didn’t think this would latch on so quickly. I’m so grateful to all of you<3
Taglist: @blackthorngirl @formula1mount @bby-imasociopath @anakinsbaee @darthgloris
Your lips parted in slight shock. This cold and heartless monster of a man… wanted you? Was being a Sith Lord not enough for him? Your body was frozen, but your mind was racing as if it was in a pod race. The same ones you used to attend on Tatooine when you were younger.
“You mean to tell me you want… me?” You tried not to sound scared and weak, though you knew you weren't really in any position to act all high and mighty. He didn’t reply. He simply pulled away, but as he was about to walk out of the cell, you grabbed him. It was a split-second, possibly dangerously dumb idea, but it happened.
“You’re brave, princess.” He turned around with a scowl smeared across his face.
“I want answers.” You crossed your hands across your chest. It was easy to figure out by now, that he wouldn’t necessarily kill you under any circumstances. Not if he needed you. He could be inclined to hurt you, but that was a different deal entirely.
“—and I want you to remember me, but we can’t all have what we want.” His eyes were fixated on you. They peered deep into your own. It was as if he was searching for something in that little soul of yours.
“Seems we’ve gotten ourselves stuck in a paradox.” You said and had your lips form a straight line before speaking again,
“You see, I won’t remember you until you give me answers, but you refuse to give me any, so how am I supposed to know who you really are… besides a ruthless Sith Lord, whose only purpose in life is slaving around for the dark side.” You retorted with a scoff. It was bold. Too bold, it seemed, as he immediately grabbed you by your throat and pinned you against the cold and unforgiving wall.
“You test my patience, your highness.” He whispered close to your face, his breath; hot on your skin.
“You realize you have zero control here, right? You are completely at my mercy.” He stared you down with flared nostrils and heavy breathing before pulling away and walking out the door. Shortly after, two troopers locked their arms around the set of yours and dragged you.
“Let go of me.” You spat and struggled against their grasp,
“I can walk for myself!”
“You can also escape, your highness.” Said one of them. His voice was gruff and it felt like a snake was coiling up your spine.
They managed to drag you all the way to a plush room with a proper bed and even a desk with a small lamp. It was a simple layout, far inferior to your own bedroom, but it was better than having your back give out prematurely from a rock-hard block.
“Lord Vader will be back soon.” They threw you on the floor with no regard for your safety, waltzed out, and locked the door. You got up with a groan and dusted off your dress.
The dark side was clearly not messing around. Even with a royal status, nobody cared. Not that they had any reason to, anyway. They served the galactic empire. Bowing down to royalty wasn’t exactly on their bingo card.
You’d been left alone to wither and gather dust. Was this their shtick? Leaving their captives to sit and stare into a blank wall for hours on end? It took several before you finally heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the door to the room. You quickly collected and readied for what was to come.
The door clicked and in he walked. His stride was fierce and confident, and every bit cold. Maker, he was mesmerizing. It wasn’t just the face of a fallen angel, it was the face of something so familiar. It drove you insane to not recognize it.
“You will stay in this room and you will not leave, understood?” His brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed.
“If I leave?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. That clearly set him off. You watched as his eyes turned a bright yellow for a second, before going back to their usual velvety blue.
“You are frankly starting to test my patience, princess.” He grabbed your forearm roughly and pulled you close to him. Something within you clenched. It was your heart. The fear engulfed it like a vice, squeezing every beat into a suffocating silence.
“You won’t kill me.” Your voice was hushed and shaky, but you tried not to make the dread apparent.
“I can certainly hurt you. It is my vocation.” You were supposed to be intimidated by him, but my, his voice was to die for. You refreshed your mind with a quick reality check. He was handsome. But not handsome enough to sway your mind. You wanted answers.
“Why do you need me anyway?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Well, I certainly do if I’m required to remember your face.” You scrunched your nose at him and pulled away. He squinted his eyes in frustration as he let out an exasperated sigh.
He seemed conflicted. As if he wanted to tell you, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.
“Just… don’t even try to escape. You’re stranded on this space station either way. You have no means of doing so.” He stepped back and walked to the desk in the corner of the room.
“Can’t you just tell me the truth? You’re the reason we keep going in circles. If you just—“ He didn’t turn around, he just interrupted you abruptly,
“Ever attended a pod race?” Pod race… memories of your father screaming at the big screens and having bets with Jabba doused your mind. You used to hang around a boy back then. Every year. Without fail. He was a sweet boy. Anakin was his name. Anakin Skywalker. He always stood by your side, as your father would push you off to the side to mingle amongst the elites.
“I have… quite a few, actually…. Why?” Your head was tilted to the side as you slowly made your way towards him. When you got close enough, he turned around to face you,
“Just out of curiosity, sweetheart.” You frowned at the nickname.
“I stopped going after a while. My father still went every year though. As king, he’s got a lot of connections… so…”
“Yeah, I remember your father. Arrogant fellow.” He scoffed and carefully tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t keel over at the gesture, but it still felt repulsive. He was a Sith Lord. Stone-cold and ruthless.
“You know my father personally?” You slapped his hand away from your face and took a step back. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply,
“I killed him. He’s dead.” Threateningly, he moved towards you with heavy steps. Your eyes darted up and down his form, as he backed you up against the wall behind you.
His hands trapped you, touching down on the wall on either side of your head. His jaw was clenched and his eyes had turned that same yellow it had earlier. He was… frightening.
“It’s been my personal goal to wipe out your family for a while now, Princess. Now that it’s finally done, I would like it if you didn’t ask so many questions.” His breaths were hot and heavy, but it smelled amazing. Mint fresh. No, it didn’t. It was disgusting. He was a Sith.
“My handmaidens… what became of them?” You finally succumbed to your ancestors' conditioning to recognize dangerous situations and fear them. Your body trembled as your voice tried its best to sound solid.
The dark lord completely ignored your question, letting himself calm down before backing off and walking towards the door. Before he left, he got a final word in,
“We’re to wed in a week. You’ll stay here until then.” What..?
To be continued…
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