(Star Wars) - Possessive Beast #Wattys2017

iv

The gates reopened two sunrises later.

Visitors flooded the palace once again, all of them greeted by the unfamiliar sight of a large pillow in front of the immortal's curtain. Padmé was curled up within the deity's hand, his palm being her seat today rather than a shield from everyone else. Vader wanted to show off his new companion so Cordé and Dormé has done her up good.

Padmé's natural curls were set with a styling creme that kept them almost wet-looking, the long strands waving down to her navel. Her makeup was very sharp; clean contouring, a vivid highlighter on the high points of her face, smoky lower liner, a thick winged liner that could cut a bitch, dark lashes that curled up to the heavens, perfectly filled-in lips the color of wine. Padmé felt extremely confident with the light mask covering her face. Her legs were covered by a black pair of leather leggings, diamond-shaped slits ripped along the sides allowed for the air to kiss her tan skin. She had on a cropped tee-shirt, the bottom hemline just above the base of her ribcage; the word "Beast's" in gold foil stretched seemed to stretch across her bust.

Vader wanted to make sure that the message was loud and clear: She's mine...

Padmé stretched out on her side, using the base of his thumb as a head rest. She casually threw an arm over the crook of his thumb, her hand lazily running back and forth over the back of his hand. Her legs were curled up under her for the most part but her feet grazed the base of his fingers. A lot of the visitors were whispered, some even pointing up at her; she shrank back into him ever so slightly. Vader decided the soft noise was too much.

"Friends, Strangers, Children of the Galaxy: cease your gossiping." His deep voice sent chills down Padmé's spine. "The young mortal in front of my curtain is called Pad-"

"Padmé Naberrie, a slave girl that this monster stole from my son!"

All eyes turned towards a robust man who seemed to be waddling into the throne room, two burly men flanking him. "Who dares interrupt the Immortal Among Man?" Vader's claws closed around Padmé ever so slightly. "I am Master Dimitri Clovis, the father of the man you sunk in the waves of Scarif for wanting your blessing!" The immortal behind the curtain chuckled darkly. "Dimitri, is it? You'd be better referred to as "Dimwit" for coming here. He's dead, the fool can't be brought back from the dead - I don't have that power." His followers chuckled at the taunt of this man's name, Padmé even snickering at the immortal's taunt. "You're right, nothing will bring Rush back... I can however take her back." Dimitri snapped his fingers, one of the brutish beings behind him placing a holo-document reader in his chubby hand. "I have the birth certificate, the ownership papers, the slaver rights... She's mine, beast. No matter how much makeup you put on her nor what you dress her up in can change that. She is my property and i've come to repossess her."

"You're a fool if you believe I'd give her over to you willingly." Vader hissed, his fingers curling over her legs. "She belongs in my palace, she's belonged here with me since the day she came into this world - though I wasn't aware of her existence then." Padmé smiled at her former master rather smugly, holding her head high. "I belong in the Immortal's palace, Master Clovis; you've wasted your efforts by coming here."

"Silence, slave. You will remove yourself from that palette and come put your chains back on this instant." The pompous man commanded her, the other brute holding a pair of rusted shackles in his beefy hands. "I will do as the Immortal Among Man commands of me, not you." She asserted, rubbing a hand over her bumpy-looking lap. "She is correct, dimwit. Leave my sight this instant or face my wraith." The arrogant slaver started laughing at the immortal's command, his cackles echoing off the high ceilings uncomfortably. "You can't even see me, beast. I don't bend to your whim or fall at your feet like the rest of the galaxy does."