The Rebel Faction

"Damn." she muttered, gritting her teeth. He got her good this time. Raven could barely hold the lightsaber in her fingers.

Raven had already sank to her knees, her vision blurring as she glared at him. She heard him warn her that she should never anger a full fledge sith.

"I'll let you know when I meet one." Raven managed to mutter, when she finally calapsed onto the floor, and saw nothing further. It would be a mercy at this point if he went ahead and just finished her off. That way, she wouldn't have to wake up.

Her eyes opened as slits, then opened even further, slowly taking in the fact that she was not in either her room, or that of that training space.

Raven frowned, at the moment not looking too charming at all, her frown turning to that of a smirk.

"Careful, dearie. I might make you a Jedi yet." She chuckled.

Raven winced, bitting her lip to prevent herself from crying out.

"Alright, alright, I won't press the issue!" she finally replied, gritting her teeth.

Couldn't he, for the life of him, take a joke just once in his life?

There it was again, a moment where of tenderness there. It was frustrating. He could be so brutal, but yet be so gentle.

It was like he was two separate people, and he almost seemed afraid to let too much kindness slip through. Though, of course, she couldn't deny that he was passionate. The previous evening gave her enough evidence of that. Rough, edgy, and passionate, would be a more acurate discription of the sith she had so far gotten to know.

He kept switching between the tough sith, to the passionate man so quickly, that it was maddening. He angered her to the point that she wanted to kill him, but yet, she couldn't find it possible to go through with the thoughts to the seemingly simple and inevitable conclusion.

Raven hated him, and yet he could yank her feeling about so much that she couldn't make any decisions.

Damn the man! Damn, Mr. Whoever.... arg, she didn't even know the sith's name! Double Damn!

Raven laughed, and threw a pillow towards the fresher door, only to nail him in the face as he was exiting, making her laugh even harder when she saw the look on his face. He probably thought that tossing pillows was just as childish as tossing dinner roles, but, who knew? Perhaps, it could turn into a rather interesting game. Maybe.

Mother always used to tell Raven not to talk with strangers. Of course, she ended up sleeping with one instead. Not exactly the right way to translate any parent's advise, but oh well. It was a bit late to back out of that particular situation.

So that's the brother that he keeps mentioning. But wasn't his brother the younger of the two? Old traditions in most empires would indicate that older child be naturally the next in line for the title. The fact that the man before her was here instead, indicated that perhaps he was cheated from the position that he felt was his in the first place?

Raven frowned, surprised that he didn't take the pillow-tossing as the same as the food-fight from the previous evening. What the hell was he thinking?

And he killed most of his family before he became a teenager? Raven was about to say something in reply, only to grunt as a pillow hit her in the face, then tossed another in rather quick sucession.

When he mentioned that tossing pillows could get interesting, Raven smirked.

"Oh, I'm sure it will, since you have a Skywalker on your hands. Raven Skywalker, to be exact. My mother was killed when I was eight, and my very existance is barely acknowledged by own father." Raven's smirk grew to a grin, as she tossed a pillow at him, nailing him this time, in the gut, seeing him stumble backwards a few steps.