#Ulfran hasn't been especially present during kotfe shenanigans

[dingoat]

[Just a small one for these two, just a little hypothetical-maybe...]

Ulfran felt it before he saw it, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it until Thirteen turned to the quiet clearing of his throat.

There was something dark in the Cipher’s expression, in that face so sallow and worn with stress. Guilt and despair, masked by defiance. Thirteen must have seen the way Ulfran faltered, the way he leaned back, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, because his posture became immediately defensive, his lips twisting into something cruel.

“Don’t you start on me as well,” Thirteen hissed, rising from his chair.

But Ulfran’s own expression softened, sensing the uncanny duality within Thirteen, the tight grasp of that most unwelcome presence. “My dear boy,” the Sith whispered, reaching toward him reflexively. “What have you done.”

Thirteen hovered, drawn to Ulfran’s hand, torn between the need to keep himself walled off and the hopeless desire to be understood. “What I had to. Because nobody else will.” His words were clipped and harsh, but there was a desperation there that Ulfran sensed all too easily, searing like the hot blade of a saber.

“Thirteen,” Ulfran’s voice was still soft, his pale, yellowed eyes seeking to meet Thirteen’s that flared with silver. And something else. “You never had to. Whatever you think you’re achieving, whatever advantage you think you have to gain by welcoming him back…”

Thirteen scoffed, stepping back with a shake of his head. “You say that like I’ve ever had a choice…”

“You have always had a choice. The galaxy spins on your choices–!”

“Not that again. Like it’s my fault Five is the way he is. Like it’s my fault Ahuska can’t bring herself to do anything for him. In your pretty little worldview it’s always my fault, isn’t it? That’s how you justify everything. Next you’ll be saying it’s my fault Zakuul invaded, my fault that Ziost…”

“Thirteen,” Ulfran moved forward with his hands outstretched to cradle the Cipher’s face, to draw him close and cut short his self destructive line of thought.

But before his fingertips could brush Thirteen’s cheeks, time stopped.

Ulfran felt the distortion. Felt his heartbeat slow, the great weight that pulled against his movement, that made him feel as though he were pressing his hand through rapidly setting duracrete. He felt the way the Force clamped down on him, on the whole cantina, likely on the whole blessed Odessen base, and he felt the way Valkorion’s presence swamped Thirteen. He saw the way Thirteen’s eyes defocused, the way his attention drew inward, and he knew that the former Emperor was whispering to the Cipher from within.

No. No! Ulfran struggled against the terrible grip and gathered every ounce of strength he had. But Valkorion was stronger. Don’t listen to him, gods, shut him out! 

#swtor fic #writing prompt #prompt response #swtor kotfe #imperial agent #cipher thirteen #ulfran #aka darth fugue #Ulfran hasn't been especially present during kotfe shenanigans #but I'm sure he's THERE #long suffering #dingoat writes