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MUSTAFAR, OUTER RIM
'Bela.'
Her knees hurt. She's been in this position too much, too long. One arm is poised on her raised knee, the other hangs at her side, fingers curled around the black hilt of a lightsaber given to her as a child when she had no idea what a weapon was.
She lifts her head, she can no longer hide behind her hair which is brought back by a labyrinth of braids. They're tight, and pull her eyebrows closer to her hairline. Her face feels stiff, and she struggles to move her lips when she replies.
Her eyes finally meet the dark helmet above her, green and twinkling like a child's through thick eye lashes. 'Yes, Master?'
'You are ready.'
'Ready, Master?'
With one nod he turns, his cape follows behind and she knows that's her cue to follow after him. She's up in one easy push and behind him down the long corridors. Her chin is up high, her eyes look down her nose while her hands clasp behind her back.
She squeezes her fingers tightly together to prevent her rapid breathing. The heat from the lava below burns her skin, for once she is thankful when they reach the throne room and he takes his seat.
She stops beside him, keeping her gaze forward and he answers the commission from the Inquisitor.
The Third Sister's face flashes before them in a blue light. Bela's face morphs into a scowl, she's never been a fan of any of the Inquisitor's. They're strung too high with too much free power in their hands. Little control, no remorse if their actions ruin their Lord's plans.
'Where is he?'
'We have probes out. We're tracking all possible exits. He will pay for the Grand Inquisitor's-'
'The Grand Inquisitor means nothing. Kenobi is all that matters now-' As he says the name there's a shift in his demeanour, Bela feels it. The new emotion tugs at her heart and she resists the urge to move while she rubs her sternum to ease the unfamiliar ache in her chest. 'Is that understood?'
'Yes, my Lord.'
He finally leans back into his cold throne, 'I have been watching you, Third Sister. I know what it is, you seek. Prove yourself, and the position of Grand Inquisitor is yours.' Bela watches as the Third Sister's lip twitches, she doesn't have to be on the same planet to feel her pride, 'Fail me, and you will not live to regret it.'
Her face is gone in a flash, but then his attention is on Bela, who straightens more at his gaze. 'What is it, apprentice?'
It's a test. She already knows it is. Yet she still speaks.
'I don't trust, Third Sister. Her ambition will destroy her, and if we aren't careful, us with it.'
Vader says nothing, he rises from his throne and walks to the open window. She flinches when the edge of his cape brushes her shin.
