Work Text:
He woke up with his head pounding and to top it all off, he was cuffed to the bed, wearing dark clothes that were both nicer than anything he owned and definitely not his. From what he could sense (the surprise he felt at the lack of inhibitor or Force suppressant was soon discarded in favour of wariness, afterall considering who had him, it meant nothing good) his cell ( a bedroom?) was surrounded by Darkness and he tightened his shields so as to not let it leak inwards, even as he used the Force to open the cuffs and sat up.
And then the door had opened and the Darkness had come crashing in almost gently, caringly if one could say as such, with the arrival of Grandmaster Count Dooku and Feemor felt fear. Regardless of the oddity that had been the Count’s Force signature, he was going to die.
Maybe in a world where people could remember him, Feemor could play off whatever fondness remained for his former lineage for mercy, but the Count did not know him, could not know him, even if he could all he would know Feemor by was a Ouroboros bracelet and a single holo that was essentially a long due apology. He didn’t even have his saberstaff.
And then the Count sighed, “Really Grandpadawan, it would be much appreciated if you stopped projecting the feeling of going to the gallows. It’s quite disconcerting.”
Feemor was quite sure his jaw was hanging open, “I-I, you know me?”
At this, Dooku’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, “I do believe Grandpadawan, that you mean that I remember you, even with your unique condition .” under his breath he mutters about the surprise of knowing about him too and Feemor can just barely hear the ‘Of course, considering Qui-Gon-’ before he trails off.
At this, Feemor couldn’t but help his curiosity, “How? Master Averross is the only one who's been able to remember me so easily so far.”
Dooku lifts his sleeve up to show the very bracelet he’d been panicking about moments before. “Physical reminders do help, but the fact remains that Rael has always been closer to the dark than most.” the closer to me remains unspoken but they both hear it.
Feemor sees the trap in the words clearly, but a part of him is desperate, tired of being forgotten. Then he thinks of Fox and is angry, angry that the one person who can remember him doesn’t want anything to do with him. And anger has always driven him to be rash.
He takes the offer lying in the words.
He Falls. That is a lie, he doesn’t Fall, he embraces the Dark.
Surprisingly, instead of the cold he’s been warned about all his life, the Dark is warm.
He asks, and his Grandmaster (a member of his lineage actually wants him) hums and says that the Dark is only cold to those who bask in the Light and then offers to show him around and Feemor agrees.
There will be more to come later, but for now Grandmaster and Grandpadawan with matching golden eyes simply get to know each other.
Meanwhile, halfway across the galaxy, on Coruscant, a clone commander dressed in the red armour of the Coruscant Guard, helmet discarded on his desk, making plans to rescue his the Guard since the Jedi clearly won’t; feels as though something breaks in his chest without warning and he continues to plan even though he sheds tears for reasons he doesn’t know.