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Title: His Lordship and the Five-and-twenty Virgins
Author: Maia (maia@bastcastle.org)
Rating: M/R
Characters: Vader, OFCs
Category: ficlet, random silliness
Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this, and he doesn’t belong to me. Darn.
Summary: What really goes through his head at times.

For Pixel

There were times when Darth Vader questioned how he always found himself in the same situation over and over again.

Today was no exception.

It was just another back-water world to visit, another treaty to sign, another system to bring under Imperial control.

Just another tedious assignment from his master.

So here he was, sitting in a meeting room, listening to some politician who was droning on endlessly in an attempt to make it sound like his world had something unique and valuable to offer the Empire. The Sith Lord had heard it all before and couldn’t be bothered to follow all the details. In fact, he was so bored that he was almost at the point of falling asleep.

Perhaps that was why he didn’t really notice what the last of the treaty’s requirements were. Certainly if he had been paying attention he would have said something. Or done something. Before it was too late.

But he didn’t.

So he now found himself following the planet’s sovereign, going to pick which of the man’s daughters he preferred for his bride.

His bride.

The one he was required to take.

Oh, he would go through with all the formalities, take the woman back to Coruscant, but she would never officially be his wife. That was for show, for here. She would just be another concubine, another addition to his harem once he was home.

Somehow the Sith Lord stopped a sigh.

They were always the same.

Young. Wide-eyed. Beautiful. Innocent.

Always so very innocent.

Why did they always have to be virgins?

Once they knew he had chosen them, there was the inevitable reaction. Some screamed, some tried to run away, others fainted or burst into tears. Only one had ever happily thrown herself at him. That had been more of a shock to him than to her.

Then there was the night after the official hoopla and ceremony.

Sometimes they would lie on the bed trembling in fear waiting for him; sometimes he had to chase them down. Some were resigned to their fates, others fought him tooth and nail - one managed to bite him through his leather bodysuit before he could restrain her.

He hated it.

Darth Vader preferred a willing partner.

But it was the same for the concubines who came to him freely, willingly  - and even the women he chose for himself at random were the same.

Virgins.

Every last one of them.

There was always the unavoidable awkwardness and pain that came with deflowering them. It was uncomfortable for him and miserable for them.

He hated that, too.

Sex should be pleasant, he reasoned, not a tedious task.

Too often, it was more like a job to be done - at least that’s what it felt like at the moment.

He stepped into the room and surveyed his choices.

Twenty-five women.

All beautiful.

All wide-eyed.

No doubt all virgins.
 
For once he decided to do something different when making his selection.

‘Which one of you,’ he calmly asked, ‘isn’t a virgin?’

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