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Chapter Text

He was in my dreams almost every night.

In a meadow adrift with wildflowers, the sweet scent of blossoms heavy on my tongue.

Aways at arm’s distance, close enough our fingertips barely brushed but separated by an impenetrable force.

As a child, I’d seen him with gangly arms and knobby knees, ears too big for his angular face. But as I’d grown, so had he. Pinched shoulders giving way to a wide chest. Full lips to balance the strong angle of his nose. Waving, inky hair that covered his ears and brushed his collarbones.

The dream was silent, save for the beating of my heart, but I could read his lips.

Do not be afraid, he would tell me, I feel it too.

And on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, he’d held out his hand in supplication, fingers outstretched.

Join me, he’d repeated.

But as the years changed, so did he. Only eight months later, he appeared with an angry slash running diagonally across his face, blood seeping from the wound down his cheeks and over his lips. Dark smudges appeared beneath his eyes. And though the wounds healed, the scars remained and not merely the ones upon his skin. By the time I was twenty, he was nearly unrecognizable to the boy I’d known.

By then the war between the Republic and Alderaan had raged for two years. Two years of starvation and heartache, two years of mindless violence. Two years of death, though it rarely touched us in Coruscant.

Tonight, six years after the start of the war, he was not there. In the dream, I stood in the meadow for what felt like hours and yet there was nothing. No one. Merely the absence of him like the shadow of a bruise not yet formed. And the silence was so deafening it hurt my ears. I screamed into the void, calling out for the nameless male who I had no idea if he was even real or merely the figment of a lonely girl’s imagination having now run its course.

“My lady!” a voice called and I was almost certain I knew the voice.

“Princess!” they yelled again.

Cold, so cold. The sky darkened in the meadow overhead.

“REY!”

I woke with a gasp, arms flying out and battering whoever it was around the face. A familiar grunt filled my ears.

“Gods below, Rose!” I panted.

My friend fell back with an oomph, clutching her jaw. “Finn should have never trained you.”

I grimaced, squinting in the first rays of dawn to make out the figure of my friend lying across the bed. As my handmaiden, she slept beside me most nights, unless my grandfather had need of her elsewhere.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I patted her arm. “What is it?”

Rose huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and pushed up to a seat while rubbing her jaw. “Kinman arrived with a message from his Majesty. He has requested an audience at once.”

My stomach swooped low while dread thickened the blood in my veins. I couldn’t stop thinking of the empty meadow and the storm clouds rolling in. But I allowed Rose to pull me from the bed and hunt down a clean chemise, following it with the dark red cotehardie that had been commissioned only a few months ago, ornately embellished the gold wreaths of the empire running across the hem of the skirts and sleeves.

I winced as she tore a brush through my hair, muttering under her breath about the lack of time to braid it properly. But in only a few minutes I was presentable, sliding my feet into soft leather slippers just as Rose tugged open the heavy door to my apartments to reveal Kinman Doriana waiting on the other side. His few whisps of hair clinging to his head appeared to be just as put out as the rest of him, the heavy scowl on his face revealing trenches so deep I was surprised fairies did not swim in them.

“My lady,” he growled, dipping his chin and in a would-be bow.

Behind him my guard, Finn, frowned, a deep crease forming in his dark-brown forehead.

I lifted my chin and gestured for Kinman to lead the way, expecting we would go to my grandfather’s apartments one floor above. Instead, he led me in along winding path through the abandoned chapel and into the throne anteroom.

“Ah, my lady.” The voice oozed like fat across a flame and my stomach dropped to my knees.

Lord Armitage Hux slunk in from the shadows, bright red hair catching in the light of the torches. Acid coated my tongue at the sight of him, at the memory of his wandering hands, the stink of his putrid breath.

I dropped into a shallow curtsy. “My Lord.”

Lord Hux clicked his tongue. “It will be lord husband before long.”

Not if the gods take me, I prayed. In my mind, however, it was not the gods rising from their long sleep to save me but the man I saw almost every night. Every night except tonight. A hollow pang of grief echoed in my chest—had I lost him now too?

The lord took a step closer and I flinched. Finn cleared his throat. “Watch your hands, my lord.”

My last bruise had only just faded from my jaw, but still ached whenever I smiled—as if the gods were reminding me the days of smiling were soon to be long gone. But Lord Hux paid Finn no mind as he stroked the back of his hand across my cheek.

“As soon as we get there, no one will be able to hear you scream.” Air whistled through his nose as he leaned closer, nose dragging up my throat and leaving invisible insects crawling in its wake. “And how I do love to hear you scream.”

He drew back with a sickening grin, ran a hand through his hair and nodded to Kinman. “I will see you in the Great Hall.”

Silence fell as the soles of his boots retreated. My skirts trembled with my knees and though Kinman opened his mouth to rush me, Finn stepped into my line of vision.

“Take a breath, sprout,” he whispered low enough I was sure Kinman could not hear.

I took one breath, then another, pushing away the rising panic. Weakness was not an option, not in this nest of vipers, and not when I would soon be in front of the king. And if there was one I feared more than Lord Hux, it was my grandfather. Finally, I nodded and Finn gestured to Kinman to guide us into the Great Hall.

Dawn was just starting to spill its light across the sky and the tall, thin windows. Despite the roaring flames within the hearth, I shivered at first sight of my grandfather seated upon his throne, idly stroking one of the small, ornate spires with a fingertip gnarled with age.

Kinman nor any of the footman announced me as I approached. Rose and Finn fell back toward the wall lined with servants and leaving me alone in the center of the room.

Alone, just as I had been in the meadow.

A flash of red caught the corner of my eye but I did not look, I could not. And I swallowed back the bile threatening to rise in my throat as I curtsied, dipping my chin tightly to my chest.

“Sire,” I murmured.

My grandfather sighed, robes shifting as he leaned forward. “Rise, granddaughter.”

A muscle in my jaw worked as I pushed myself to my feet, the rhythm of my heart so rapid my head spun. As king of the Republic, a heavy burden laid on Sheev Palpatine’s shoulders and the years had taken its toll, especially since the first battle began with Alderaan.

“I am sure by now you have heard the news,” he continued, running a hand down his deeply lined face.

The news. There was too much news these days. Did he mean the famine across Endor or the uprising in Ahto? But I kept my face impassive.

“King Organa has gone too far and sent his dogs to our gates. They snap at our heels and thirst for our blood.”

My stomach twisted as my heart beat faster. King Organa, ruler of Alderaan, was the reason the war had started. In fact, only a fortnight after his mother’s passing the first blood had been spilt. No one could understand the cause other than perhaps maddening grief for the loss of both his parents in so short a time. But he had slowly been making his way toward Coruscant and the heart of the Republic—toward my grandfather.  

“And no dog is as bloodthirsty as Kylo Ren,” Mas Amedda sneered from beside the dais.

My grandfather hummed his agreement. “Nor as wild—no doubt Organa barely holds their leashes.”

I rolled my lips together, biting back the questions. These proceedings were unfamiliar, even after ten years within my grandfather’s keep after my parents passed. I often struggled to hold my tongue but I kept it clamped down now.

“Therefore, child,” he finally continued, “your betrothed will be taking you to Arkanis for safekeeping while we deal with the threat at our gates.”

“Gods below,” I gasped.

A bang echoed through the stone chamber as he slammed his fist against the arm of the throne. “Do not invoke such nonsense. The gods have abandoned us to their long sleep and bend an ear to no one, let alone you.”

No. No. I would have preferred to face Kylo Ren and his knights than a single moment in Lord Armitage Hux’s presence, let alone his home. From the corner of my eye, the man himself practically preened under my grandfather’s gaze, throwing back his bright red hair before sweeping into a bow so low I was surprised he did not topple over.

“I will protect the princess with my life, My Liege.”

Pain danced across my palms as I squeezed my hands into fists and I focused on the sensation of my nails digging into my flesh instead of screaming. But my grandfather was nodding, waving his hand in a bored sort of gesture before turning to Amedda to inquire as to the whereabouts of Ren and his band of monstrous knights.

“Come, my lady,” Kinman rasped. “All has been prepared for the journey.”

I blanched. “What? We will leave now?”

Lord Hux ambled toward us, tugging on his gloves. He made no comment as he passed, only clicked his tongue as if I, too, were a dog expected to heel. I spun, immediately finding Rose and Finn shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall, their eyes wide and fearful.

“My household must accompany—”

“My lady,” Kinman cut across, “I apologize but we must make haste if we are to leave before Organa’s men arrive.”

The corners of my eyes stung as I was all but dragged from the Great Hall, down the staircase and out into the grounds. Footfalls echoed off the stones around us and I knew others must have followed. Surely Rose would be coming with me, Finn too—he was my guard after all, sworn in by my grandfather to protect me no matter the cost.

I stumbled as we made our way down to the stables were Lord Hux’s team of horses and carriages waited. My grandfather’s knights were loosely gathered, hands resting on the pommels of their swords as Lord Hux inspected our traveling party.

“I have her,” a deep voice grumbled and I could have sobbed in relief to hear Finn’s voice.

Kinman’s grip released slowly as Finn fell into step on my other side, weak late autumn sunlight glinting off my friend’s dented and tarnished armor. I chanced a glance back, knees trembling in relief to see Rose all but running behind us to keep up, her knuckles bleached white across the dark fabric of her skirts.

“No, no, this is all wrong,” Lord Hux cried in his shrill tone, gesturing to the banners displaying the Republic’s sigil. “Should it not be the Palpatine Crest?”

Those few knights who had not yet donned their helmets regarded one another cautiously.

“We are knights of the Republic, my lord,” one said carefully.

A bright red flush crept across Lord Hux’s cheeks. “They are one in the same. King Palpatine is the Republic.”

Silence swept through the grounds like the plague. I exchanged a loaded look with Finn before steeling myself and taking a step forward.

“My lord, the hour grows late and we must depart.”

Lord Hux spun, his hand flying out and striking my face. A cry slipped through my lips as I stumbled, catching myself on the side of the carriage.

“Insolent girl,” he spat. “I should—”

Far off in the village, cries rent the air. The scent of smoke carried on the breeze. Metal groaned around us as the knights readied to depart despite Lord Hux’s demands.

“See her into the carriage, Sir Storm,” Sir Koth rumbled to Finn who donned his helmet and gently guided me inside.

I resisted the urge to touch my cheek as I settled into the dark interior of the carriage, not even peering out the window to see where Rose had ended up within the traveling party. She would be safe, she would have to be. A minute or so later Lord Hux appeared, slamming the carriage door and cursing the gods under his breath.

Sir Koth called out, preparing the horses and we set off but the air was thick with smoke, the screams of our villagers so loud I had the urge to cover my ears. The cries of our men blended together, a clash of steel-on-steel ringing through the morning air.

“Gods below, they’re here,” Lord Hux rasped.

And though I feared Kylo Ren and his knights, a strange satisfaction swelled in me to see Lord Hux so afraid. I had half a mind to throw myself from the carriage when it came to an abrupt halt, the whinnies from the horses barely audible over the din. Fire crackled on a nearby thatched roof—the scent of blood mixed with soot overwhelming to the point of choking.

“Why are we stopped?” Hux screamed, banging on the roof. “Continue at—”

The door to the carriage went flying off its hinges as it was wrenched open. For a moment there was nothing, merely the fire licking at the sky. And then my heart stopped as a figure filled the frame, black armor splattered with blood, great metal horns arcing off the helmet just like Marloweth, the God of Death.

Fast as lightning the knight gripped Hux by the front of his tunic, throwing him bodily from the carriage. My muscles locked into place, the beating of my heart a sickening rhythm pulsing in the bruise blossoming on my cheek. He would take me next, yet even as he reached for me, I did not fight.

“The girl I’ve heard so much about,” a deep voice rumbled from beneath the helmet. “Good morrow to you, Princess Palpatine.”

As soon as he wrenched me to him I twisted, pushing against his armored chest with all my might. But the male held on as if I were merely a child and nothing more, cradling me with one arm as he gripped my chin with the other, turning my face toward him. His fingertips brushed the bruise on my cheek and I hissed as the thick leather dragged across the skin.

“So soft,” he rumbled. “So fragile.”

A whimper slipped through my lips. I’d heard of the Knights of Ren—King Organa had let them loose upon the world like Marloweth’s winged beasts, leaving only death and destruction in their wake.

Behind him, another knight in similar black armor appeared, blood dripping from their curved sword. “All secured, my lord.”

The knight who held me nodded, hefting me tighter into his arms. “Have Vicrul ready the horses. I have what we came for.”

Gods below…

He was not merely a knight.

This man was Kylo Ren.

Chapter Text

Kylo Ren hefted himself and me onto a great black stallion in one lithe movement.

My head swam, the smoke so thick in the air it turned daylight to dusk. I brought my arm to my face, surprised when the male turned me into his black armor and cloak to protect me from the flames raging around us. The blood from the metal smeared against my skin and I wondered whose it was.

Was it Finn’s?

I prayed to the gods it was not, just as I prayed it was not Rose’s. Surely she escaped or they passed over her. But I could not see through the wreckage even to make out the horses galloping around us. There were only the pounding of my heart and the rumbling breaths of the man who no doubt carried me to my death.

“You did not scream.”

I tilted my chin up to regard the ornate black helmet, the curved horns glinting ominously in the flickering daylight. “You are not the first monster I have met.”

A deep hum vibrated through him, as if he was acknowledging my statement. One of the reigns dragged against my sleeve as he touched a gloved finger to the bruise on my cheek. “No, I daresay I am not.”

We reached the portcullis, still raised despite the threat on our village. Not a single one of my grandfather’s men were in sight—in fact there was not a single soul to be seen on the dirt packed streets anymore.

My voice came out as a rasp. “How many did you kill?”

Kylo Ren titled his head to the side and I shivered at the feel of him regarding me through the helmet. In my head, he was of similar ilk as the god he portrayed—scarred, ruined, and barely human.

“I could only guess—”

“Then guess,” I cut across him.

A beat of heavy silence. “Forty, forty-five, perhaps more.”

Nausea roiled in my gut while an invisible hand wrapped around my heart, squeezing once. That meant most in the traveling party had been killed along with whatever poor creatures had happened across his path. And that was merely his kills. I could not consider the other knights. We rode at the point, but every now and then over his wide shoulder I caught glimpses of them, the one closest so covered in blood his white horse was nearly red.

“And how many have you killed, Princess?” he asked, his voice dangerously smooth.

Ice trickled down my spine. “None.”

 “Liar,” he chuckled.

I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. We descended the hill down into the valley, his wide arm drawing me back against the cold metal of his armor. Strange to suddenly be in the forest. Strange that here there was no scent of scorched earth or blood, save for what clung to my captor. Here it was merely the fresh breeze and tittering of birds as they hopped from one branch to another.

As we went, I could not help but think again of Finn and Rose, but I feared asking outright. To show any preference would mean certain death for them.

“How many of my party did you take with you?” I asked finally.

Kylo Ren hummed thoughtfully. “Just you and your betrothed.”

He spat the word as if it was poison, but gestured behind him to one of his men who picked up their pace. The man clad in slightly less ornate armor gripped a long rope draped over his horse’s back. I followed the line of it, holding back any noise of surprise to see Lord Hux bound by the rope and forced to run along behind the beast.

“No tears for your beloved?” Kylo Ren asked, but the question felt like a test.

Lord Hux’s face was bright red and shiny and I wondered why I’d not heard him complaining until I spotted the gag wrapped around his mouth. His bright blue eyes found mine and a strange braying noise ripped from the cloth.

“Very interesting m’lord,” the man holding the rope crooned and around us the men erupted into a dark laughter that made the hair on my arms stand on end.

A wide hand wrapped around my wrist, drawing it down from where I’d been unconsciously pressing my fingertips against the bruise. “No, there would not be, would there?”

“Would not be what?”

Kylo Ren’s fingers squeezed my wrist once, his hand so large his fingertips overlapped his thumb, before letting go and giving no answer. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and could only hope if Lord Hux and I were the only ones taken, it meant Finn and Rose were safe and back in the castle.

“Why am I not similarly bound?” The question slipped from my lips before I could call it back.

His dark chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. “Would you like to be, Princess?”

The arm around my waist tightened and I struggled against it, fearing the worst before realizing we were starting another climb out of the valley. Thunder roiled overhead, lightning cracked across the sky.

“Ephysus does not seem to like that idea,” Kylo Ren rumbled.

I froze, unsure when it was I’d heard the gods named so casually. Not since I’d been a child, surely. But I could not imagine what Ephysus would care—the god of devotion slept more soundly than the rest.

“The gods are asleep,” I said automatically.

His arm relaxed as the ground evened out. “Are they?”

“Yes, they are. They have abandoned us.” The words were strange on my lips, as if my grandfather was speaking through me.

“Well…” Kylo Ren’s voice trailed off for a moment as he stopped beneath a thick copse of trees right on the edge of the forests which delineated the start of Coruscant’s outlying lands from the city.  “They have not abandoned me.”

The rest of the Knights of Ren came to a stop around him, Lord Hux’s heavy breathing audible even over the storm. Again, I thought of Marloweth’s beasts as they surrounded us. My heart slammed against my ribs as they began to dismount. Their leader was last, turning back to grip me around the waist and drew me off the great black stallion, steadying me before letting go.

“We will wait here until the storm passes,” he said and turned to the man who held Lord Hux’s rope as if he were the master of a rebellious dog. “Cut him loose.”

Lord Hux’s eyes went wide as the male nodded, drawing out a short and deadly looking dagger. But when the ropes fell away, he tore off the gag. “How dare you.”

Kylo Ren lifted his hands in the air. “Apologies my lord, I merely thought you would like some exercise.” He pointed back the way we came. “The castle is perhaps a half day’s walk that way. I am sure you will make it back before dawn should you leave now.”

“I demand a horse,” Lord Hux spat, gesturing to the fine horses grazing around us. “I demand—”

Faster than the lightning overhead, Kylo Ren held him by the scruff of his neck, a blade pressed to his throat. “I do not believe you are in the position of making demands, Armitage.” A beat. A pause. A small bead of blood trickled as Lord Hux swallowed. When he did not reply, Kylo Ren nodded. “Leave now or I will cut you from chin to cock and find out where it is you keep the audacity to touch a woman so above your station with anything but reverence.”

All the color drained from Lord Hux’s face and I supposed that was confirmation enough for Kylo Ren, though I’d wondered how he’d guessed it in the first place. But after a beat, the dark knight released the man, sending him tumbling into the mud. The men around us jeered and my heart raced in my chest.

This was it. Perhaps my only chance.

I took one step back, then another, before turning and darting off toward the forest. No one yelled, gods below I could hear nothing above the rain now, even as I made it into the tree line. My panicked breathing filled my ears as I skirted through the densely packed trunks, branches whipping through my hair and tearing at my skirts. But I ignored the pain, pouring all my focus onto creating as much distance between myself and the Knights of Ren.

Until an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me bodily from the ground. I screamed, kicking furiously at armored shins. Pain shot up my elbow as it connected with the side of a helmet.

“Enough,” Kylo Ren snarled, but I paid him no attention.

I was a girl again, running through the dirt packed streets of Jakku screaming for my parents. I was a young woman with blood on my hands and vomit crawling up my throat. Rain pelted against my face as I screamed. And the man who held me merely wrapped another around my chest as my body went limp.

“You are a monster,” I rasped.

His sigh swirled my hair as he scooped me up into his arms and my feet dangled over his elbow.

“Yes…yes, I am.”

Chapter Text

Kylo Ren carried me back through the forest.

Shame burned hot against my cheeks and I told myself it was at the realization I had not gotten very far. In only a few minutes we made our way into the field, the copse of trees and the men gathered around with their horses coming into view.

But it was truly the shame of being so weak which burned my cheeks and seared my eyes—a weakness my grandfather had attempted to purge from me in the long years I’d spent in Coruscant. Emotion was futile, or so he’d said. It was a dead limb that stunted the growth of the tree. And yet I never had quite mastered it, only finding myself to succumbing in those quiet moments when Rose had fallen asleep and Frieya, the goddess of night, smoothed her dark blanket across the sky.

We were silent as we went, horror washing over me with the rain as I repeated his words again and again: Yes…yes, I am.

The man knew he was a monster and prided himself on it. Though the rain had removed the worst of the evidence, when I looked down at his gloved hands it was as if I could see the blood on them. Years of blood which conditioned the leather to an almost dark red gleam.

“Do you really think he would let you stay?” he rumbled.

I blinked, staring down at his grip on the reigns. “Who?”

“Palpatine. If you had made it back through the forest, do you truly believe he would have allowed you to remain in Coruscant?”

He was right. Even if I had made it back it would have only meant being sent on with Lord Hux and his temper. A soft laugh bubbled through my lips. Had I not wished to be taken by Kylo Ren and his knights rather than spend a single moment in Arkanis?

The gods apparently had heard my plea even through their slumber.

I did not respond, just turned my face toward the trees. Already the rain was lightening, the thunder now distant and dying out. By the time we made it to his men it was merely a drizzle and I did not fight when he hefted us both onto his mount.

For the rest of the day we did not speak, though I could not help but wonder again and again why he kept me cradled so close, especially when I began to shiver as the temperature dropped. Why was I not running behind as Lord Hux had, or else pawned off onto one of his other men? Though perhaps it was my station, my proximity to my grandfather, the King, that kept me safe.

I finger combed through my wet hair, loosely braiding it when I’d gotten the worst of the snarls and brambles out, heat pricking across my eyes as I thought of Rose. By the time darkness fell we were in another dense forest, this one completely unfamiliar. My lids felt heavy and a few times I was almost certain I’d drifted off despite the chill seeping through my wet clothes, head pressed against my captor’s wide shoulder, before jerking awake. Each time a deep voice would shush me softly, guiding my head back until eventually I fell into a deep sleep.

There was a strange sensation, like floating, and I had to blink a few times before realizing I was no longer on the horse. Instead, I was laid across a thick pallet of furs, another drawn up around my shoulders. The darkness was so dense I reached out, touching the rough canvas side of the tent, then one of the support poles. My stomach roiled as I prepared myself to look behind me, only to find no one at my back.

I was alone.

Slowly, I pushed to my feet, crouching over in the small space until I reached the tent flap. The scent of woodsmoke and meat swirled on the wind, carrying with it soft conversation. I hesitated, watching the silhouettes of the men as they sat around the fire, their helmets sitting beside them as if they, too, observed the flames.

The man with his back to me was the largest by far, his wide shoulders giving way to a narrower waist and even in silhouette I could see the muscles rippling beneath his tunic. My stomach gave a hollow pang. He leaned forward, cutting off a few slices of the rabbit turning on a spit and placing it across a slab of bread.

“Take some more for her, my lord,” a man with a shock of white hair and a gnarled scar down his cheek gruffed. “She’s too thin.”

He hummed and I realized it was Kylo Ren whose back I’d ogled. I squinted, attempting to see more than merely his dark hair, but after he twisted a shank and placed it on the loaf as well, he slipped his helmet back over his head.

She’s too thin. That made it sound as if they were planning on keeping me alive for a while. I scrambled back to the tent, hoping I could get inside before—

“I see you, Princess,” Kylo Ren muttered.

A knot tightened in my belly while my cheeks burned. But I turned slowly, letting go of the tent flap. “You put me to bed.”

He nodded. “I did.”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Would you rather have slept on the horse?” He gestured with his free hand toward the stallion and his fellows grazing nearby.

“No I—” my throat clicked with a swallow, “I am just trying to understand.”

He held out the food to me, a few roots scrubbed clean of dirt sitting alongside the roasted rabbit. I stared at it with suspicion for long enough he sighed. “You saw me slice it from the poor creature yourself.”

“How…” I scrubbed a hand over my face.

But Kylo Ren did not answer, only pushed the plate into my hand, using his to wrap my fingers around it. “Eat. Sleep. We ride at daybreak.”

He turned, clomping back toward the fire and for some reason I could not help but call out: “And where is it we are going?”

“Where is it you think we are going, Princess?” he asked over his shoulder.

Of course I knew. He was taking me to Alderaan, to King Organa and his court of nightmares. With trembling hands, I pulled back the flap of the tent and fell onto my pallet. Yet I could not stop myself from devouring the food despite my wariness. Hunger had been my companion for years and though it was still no stranger, I would rather have my strength for whatever came next.

If we were too far from home now, then I would ready myself for facing the King of Alderaan.

I fell into a fitful sleep, wandering the meadow where the man I’d grown up with had waited for me but was now empty. My screams had echoed into nothing, the tears falling from my cheeks splattering into a river of blood. Perhaps he had been near and killed in Kylo Ren’s campaign to storm Coruscant.

Another life lost because of me.

So I added him to my tally, a tick mark over my scarred heart. In my dreams the empty meadow dried out and became the desert sands of Jakku. My cries could no longer be heard under the wet coughs and bloodied rasps of my parents. I screamed only for no sound to come out.

The dawn came quickly and before I knew it a gloved hand shook me awake, guiding me to my feet before rolling up the furs. I stumbled from the tent, running a hand over my face and hair, surprised with how well my hair had held up in the night in its braid.

A man with dark unruly curls raised a hand in my direction. “Good morrow to you Princess.”.

I froze as he approached, but he only grinned and offered me a small hunk of bread. “Long ride today, my lady. Though I daresay Lord Ren will stop if you need.”

A surprised huff of laughter slipped through my lips. “You must have him mistaken for another.”

“Aye, I think it might be you who is mistaken my lady,” he countered as I accepted the bread.

“Poe,” Kylo Ren snapped.

The man grinned, dipping his chin respectfully as the larger man approached, handing off the rolled up tent and furs. Poe bowed a little deeper and set off toward his horse, securing the load to his saddle. I ripped off a piece of the almost stale bread, my jaw immediately aching while I chewed.

“Come,” my captor grumbled, curling a hand around my elbow.

I allowed him to steer me toward the group, popping the last of the bread into my mouth. When we approached the stallion, I sighed—I’d been planning to shake him off and mount myself, yet even if I jumped the pommel was nowhere near in reach. While I contemplated, large hands gripped my hips, setting me up with ease before following. My skirts were still a little damp from the rain and I fought a shiver as we set out. The day was colder than yesterday with winter surely on its way, especially the farther north we traveled.

“You’re cold.”

My teeth chattered but I did not respond, just wrapped my arms tighter around myself. A deep sigh swirled the small hairs around my temple.

“I do not think your stubbornness will warm you, Princess.” When I made no response, he huffed. “Well, you are welcome to try.”

We rode on, the chill slicing through my wet clothes and across my cheeks. Only my hair was saved from the whipping wind thanks to the braid I’d done yesterday. The forest we rode through was less dense than the ones surrounding Coruscant and I spied signs of life as we skirted the winding river.

“Endor is ahead,” he murmured, reign lifting as he pointed toward small spirals of smoke rising from a settlement.

“Gods below,” I breathed, thinking of the reports my grandfather had shared. Endor was starving, most of their population decimated by King Organa and his forces. My grandfather had sent aid but according to his advisors, they were a lost cause. “We are stopping here?”

Kylo Ren made no response, only guided us carefully along the fields next to the riverbank. The first thatched huts came into view, a few men and women spilling from their doorways at the sound of approaching hooves. Their eyes grew wide in terror and one woman snatched back her child before it was trampled beneath the black stallion.

The village was quiet, as if each and every inhabitant held their breath when we approached a tiny tavern, the shutters barely hanging on their hinges. Kylo Ren swung from his mount before turning and pulling me down, keeping a gloved hand heavy on my back.

“Keep close.”

 My skin crawled. Almost every eye in the tavern turned toward us as we entered. There weren’t many, perhaps ten or so, and with the near fifteen men waiting outside it would not be a fair fight—not when the Knights of Ren were trained to kill. That being said, the male behind the bar stiffened at our approach. At the last minute, Kylo Ren pulled me to the side and gestured for another of his knights to step forward. The male tugged his helmet from his head, cradling it under one arm.

“Good day to you, sir,” Poe said almost cheerily, as if this was nothing but a merry traveling party. “Might I trouble you for some travel rations?”

The face of the male behind the counter turned white, his mouth opening and closing before he leaned down.

“I would not grab that axe if I were you,” Kylo rumbled.

Poe sighed, shaking his head. “Peace between us, friend. We are merely looking to resupply.”

Resupply, gods below, these people were starving and the knights acted as though they had food to spare. I opened my mouth to speak but the fingers on my back flexed, gripping my dress and drawing me back a step.

Poe reached a hand toward my captor, who plopped a large tinkling satchel in his palm. “One hundred and fifty credits should cover the cost, no?” When the male only stared in horror, Poe leaned in a little closer. “Think of your family.”

Eventually the man nodded, rising to his full height. “I’ll provide you lot what you need, but you won’t be waiting in here.”

Poe placed a hand over his darkly armored chest. “May the gods bless you.”

The man gave a soft hmph and the hand on my shoulder turned me roughly toward the door and out into the sunlight. I shivered, wrapping my arms tightly around my middle.

“Stay with her,” Kylo Ren commanded, already making his way back to the tavern.

Poe sidled up next to me. “Yes, my lord.”

I blinked at his retreating cloak, tears stinging in my eyes. “We should not be here.”

“Why not, my lady?” He regarded me with genuine confusion, dark brows disappearing beneath his messy hair. “The king has been generous with these people and this land. They are prospering.”

I shook my head and scrubbed a hand over my windburned cheeks. “No, you’re wrong. They are starving. Only a fortnight ago my grandfather said—”

“Ah, well there’s your problem,” Poe interjected, pointing a finger at me.

But he had said the king. Endor was in the Republic’s territory which meant it was under the protection of King Palpatine. So did Poe mean that my grandfather had given them more aid than he’d said? It seemed unlikely.  

“You will find, Princess, the farther we get from Coruscant, the more truths you will come to discover as lies.”

My hands balled into fists at my sides. “What does that mean?”

Poe shrugged and winked as the door swung open and Kylo stomped back through. “I suppose you’ll just have to find out.”

With one last grin, he sauntered toward his horse while his leader stopped in front of me. Wordlessly, he shook out a long bundle of fabric he carried from beneath his arm and wrapped it around my shoulders. I ran a finger down the thick cloak, something fine enough it was probably the tavern owner’s or someone close to him.

While we waited beside the horses, only more questions came to mind. Poe was right—the people here did not appear to be starving. In fact, I’d seen a few skirt around us holding baskets of grain or fruit, and everyone in the tavern had been eating. But it stood to reason that we were still taking from them.

And then there was the matter of the cloak. Kylo Ren said nothing from where he stood beside me, though now and then he nodded at one of his men. Eventually the tavern owner emerged laden with food, and a few of the knights accepted the parcels of dried meat and cheese, as well as nuts and dried fruits.

“We’re ready, Lord Ren,” Poe said after conferring with the others.

Kylo nodded once, picking me up and placing me on the saddle before following. A small seed of gratitude took root in my chest as he adjusted the cloak around me. Yet despite that, I could not help but remind myself it was not an act of kindness, but an act of duty. Hunters often kept their kills alive before they were taken to slaughter. Kylo Ren did not care about me, merely the prize at the end of the journey.

“What is it you gain by taking me to your king?”

He shifted behind me, grip softer now through the thick cloak. “That is an answer you are not yet ready to hear.”

Anger prickled at the back of my neck. “Do all the Knights of Ren speak in riddles?”

“Do all princesses not see what is right in front of their faces?”

I bristled. “You do not know me—”

“You do not know anything,” he countered.

I sat up straighter, desperate to create distance between us despite the fact we were both on the same horse. “I know that you are nothing more than a rabid dog set loose upon the world. That you have killed over a hundred thousand men and bathed in their blood.”

A dark chuckle slipped through the helmet. “Tell me what else you think you know, Princess.”

“Alderaan is nothing more than scorched earth thanks to you and your precious king,” I spat. “Everything withers, nothing grows, and all suffer because of his greed and your violence. That is what I know.”

He said nothing and though the silence was damning, I could not feel an ounce of satisfaction in it. Especially as he leaned close enough that I caught just a glimpse of his eyes beneath the helm.

But there was still no retort, only another sigh before he clicked his tongue and we picked up speed into the darkening night.

Chapter Text

I stood in the meadow, staring out across the grassy fields, fingertips brushing the feathery tops of the reeds.

Alone.

But there, in the distance I could just make out a shape moving toward me through the tall grass, large hands sweeping gently over the wildflowers. A lump formed in my throat, the air practically squeezed out of me. He was here for the first time in days, though looking a little worse for wear. My sigh of relief was almost audible as tears stung the corners of my eyes. I wondered how I must have looked to him. We’d been traveling for the last week or so and last night we’d made camp later than usual. I’d barely had the energy to swallow down a few mouthfuls of bread and cheese before collapsing onto the pallet Lord Ren, as his men called him, laid out for me, occasionally bemoaning the state of my hair as it frayed from its braid—though often I would wake to find it much neater than before. I had vague memories of pulling the leather cord out and attempting to finger comb it, so I figured I was probably half-asleep while I re-braided.

So perhaps we matched in our haggard appearances. His face was smeared with dirt and dust, mud caked into the groove of the jagged scar, hair snarled around his shoulders. And yet he was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. A haze slid over my eyes and though I tried to close the distance between us, the same invisible barrier kept me in place.

I did not even mind the silence, not if it meant I could see him. His eyes grew crystalline as he regarded me, extending his long arm, rippling with corded muscle and veins. Our fingertips brushed and a shiver ran through me, like stepping into a warm bath or snuggling into one’s bed after a long time away.

You feel like home, I wanted to say. Home in a world where I have none.

Forgive me, I was almost certain he mouthed. Or perhaps it was him again begging me to join him, I could not tell.

But eventually the meadow faded and with it the man I’d missed so much despite never having known his name. I cried out for him, reaching in vain, and for a heartbeat it had felt as if I’d succeeded. Strong arms wrapped around me—fingers brushed through the tears on my cheeks. For a moment it was as if all was right with the world before a deeper sleep took hold as I knew no more.

A loud cry jerked me from sleep.

I sat upright, heart slamming against my ribs as other cries echoed it outside the tent, and scrambled for the tent flap. The first rays of dawn streaked across the sky, illuminating the small circle of trees with lilac light which appeared at odds with the man standing with his back to me, wide shoulders tensed.

“Lord Ren…”

But he did not respond, only unsheathed his deadly looking sword. It had not been the Knights of Ren that had cried out, I realized, but others. A band of masked men without armor ran through the camp like ants upon a crust of bread. Poe fought three at once while Cardo, the white haired male who had introduced himself to me last night cackled, cutting down one and turning to another.

A man with half his face covered by a blood-soaked handkerchief ran at Lord Ren. Before I could blink the man was on the ground, his insides spilling out before him.

“Rey,” Lord Ren rasped from beneath his helmet and I froze at the sound of my name on his lips. “Run.”

“But—” Before I could argue two more men charged him and I scrambled to my feet, darting off into the forest. My breaths sounded in my ears, heart thumping in the crooks of my arms and backs of my knees. And though this forest was not as dense, unfamiliar foliage had me slowing as I tried not to trip.

Pain sliced through my shoulder and I stumbled. A sickening warmth bled across my chest but I did not look down, I could not, even as my head swam. But my footsteps stuttered and I caught myself on the trunk of a tree, breaths wheezing through my lungs.

“Far from home, aren’t ya lass?” a male rasped at my back. I screamed as he wrenched me back by my braid, the tip of a knife pressed to my throat. Putrid breath danced across my cheeks with his laugh.

I threw my elbow out, catching him in the stomach with an oomph even as agony turned my stomach. The man’s grip faltered and though I felt as if I was under water, I scrambled forward, only for him to catch me again by the hair and throw me to the ground.

“Who’s your betrothed then? One of the men in that camp?” he sneered. I flipped onto my back, clambering away from him over the bracken as best I could on one arm. He followed slowly, gripping his cock through his trousers. “Should bring you back there and force them to watch as I make you scream.”

The air whooshed from my lungs as my back slammed against a trunk. White-hot pain pulsed in my shoulder, down my arm, turning my hand numb. But I shifted sideways, slipping through the damp earth as I tried and failed to get away.

Footfalls echoed through the forest and the man lifted his chin, raising his voice. “The Alderaan bitch is mine.”

Blood sprayed across my face as the tip of a sword appeared between his ribs. He gaped, mouth falling open and reaching for the blade before it disappeared.

“No,” a deep voice rumbled. The sword sliced through the air, decapitating the man. His body crumpled to the forest floor, revealing Kylo Ren. “She’s mine.”

Cold wound its way up from my fingertips to my arms, my toes to my legs. I blinked and found the lids too heavy to lift without great effort. A haze filled my vision and stupidly, I reached for him. In my mind, he was no longer the mighty Kylo Ren but the male from my dreams, standing before me in a meadow not so different. Iron coated my tongue and black spots danced through the air.

Warmth. Fingertips. The rumble of a voice I thought I knew and yet was too soft. Fabric tore, a cursed hiss, and a humming that came from neither of us, but from the air around us. I was speaking and yet I did not know what it was I said, but the deep voice responded:

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

Chapter Text

I was flying.

Or perhaps I was falling.

My body was weightless. A tingling warmth slowly ate away the cold. It started in my chest and wound its way up over my collarbones before settling in my left shoulder. I whimpered as a sickening pulse throbbed in the joint and a deep voice hushed me.

Suddenly the forest floor beneath my legs appeared, a wide arm curled around my shoulders. But I was almost positive those things had always been there—it was I who had returned. I blinked but the haze had not cleared. I blinked again and again until I could finally focus on the swirling horns and black metal helmet.

“Lord Ren…” I wheezed.

His fingers flexed over my heart, hand so big the tips brushed the center of my throat. The warmth pulsed within my shoulder, itching taking over the pain until, eventually, there was merely the absence of sensation.

“You should not use this arm for a time,” he rumbled as his hand fell away in favor of sliding beneath my knees.

Air swirled the tendrils of hair around my temples as he pushed to his feet, clutching me to his armored chest. His cloak slithered through the dead leaves as he clomped through the forest, but all I could do was stare at the stark helmet, wondering what he looked like beneath.

“Are you hurt?” I whispered.

His steps faltered for a heartbeat before resuming but he did not look down at me. “No, I am not.”

When was it I had begun to care about his wellbeing? Only last week I’d called him a rabid dog and though I was almost positive the sentiment was true, I could not help but remind myself he had come for me.

Because it is his duty to his king, not you.

Heat flared across my cheeks while I chewed on my bottom lip. “And the others?”

“Poe has a scratch we will hear about for the next fortnight, but other than that all are well.” He shifted his grip so my back was more upright. My left arm tingled as I drew it across my chest.

He ducked beneath a heavy branch, twisting to the side between two trunks before stepping back into the clearing. Bodies were strewn across the ground, though Cardo, Poe, and the others were dragging them into a pile and checking the deceased’s pockets. At the sound of our approach, however, all the men paused, turning toward their leader.

Not for the first time did I realize Kylo Ren rarely removed his mask. I could see almost every man’s face, except for two or three. Poe’s attention fell to me at once, his brows furrowing in concern while beside him, Cardo huffed a curse beneath his breath.

“Pack up the camp, we’ll head to Naboo at once,” Kylo Ren rumbled.

I swallowed back my nerves. Naboo was an outlying city on the edges of the Kingdom of Alderaan. No doubt these men would be revered there as heroes instead of monsters.

Lord Ren set me down on one of the logs they’d pulled around their fire, steadying me with a hand on my uninjured shoulder before stomping off. My head spun and I took a deep breath before reaching for the wound. It must have been an arrow the male or one of his fellows had shot, but when I looked down at the torn seam of my soiled underdress and kirtle, there was nothing but clear skin marked only by streaks of blood.

“God below…” I breathed, pressing my fingers to where the wound should have been.

Nothing, as if it had never happened. But I’d known the pain, felt the way it’d turned my stomach. It was not merely the blood of the male who’d attacked me on my skin, but my own. I tried to remember what happened after Lord Ren had killed him, but it was hazy.

“Are you well?” I looked up to find Poe standing beside me, arms laden with rolls of fur.

I nodded, smoothing out the torn fabric of my skirts. “Yes…and you?”

He gave me a boyish grin and pulled down the collar of the chainmail beneath his armor. A small, bright red cut gleamed against his golden-brown skin. “I have been wounded.”

“It does look fatal,” I mused.

Poe scrunched his face into mock agony. “I fear I may not last until Naboo, my lady, not without proper care.”

I laughed, though the sound was ragged, and pointed to one of the men who still had their helmet on. “Perhaps that gentleman could be of assistance.”

He swiveled back to look at where I pointed. “Oh no, Vicrul is the worst of nursemaids.”

My lips pressed together as I watched the man throw a body halfway across the clearing so it landed with a crash atop its fellows. “I am sure with some guidance he could improve.”

Poe’s eyes glittered. “And you, my lady? Do you not require any nursing or is that blood your own?”

I blinked and it was there on the tip of my tongue to tell him I had been injured, but instead I shook my head. “It is not my own, sir, I swear it.”

He winked. “We could pre—”

“Poe,” Kylo Ren snapped and the man grinned wider. “Pack your mount or you will walk.”

With a deep bow, Poe retreated, all but skipping toward his Palamino. I glanced at Lord Ren, surprised to find his helmet turned in my direction, his attention a caress across my skin. He clutched a soft bundle of fabric in his hands that he unfolded as he moved closer and draped the cloak around my shoulders. He appeared to hesitate before leaning down to draw me into his arms and I did not know what it meant that I relaxed at once in his hold, a soft sigh slipping through my lips.

When he had me settled in front of him on the stallion, I tucked the cloak closer around me, grimacing in discomfort as my arm twinged.

“I will make a sling when we reach Naboo,” he murmured, clicking his tongue and encouraging his horse to fall into a trot. “There we can also get you new clothes and shoes.”

My lids grew heavy and I nodded, finding it second nature to rest my head against his armored chest. “I am so tired.”

Before I could hear his response, I found myself back in the meadow, and though the man from my dreams was not there, I did not feel alone.

Chapter Text

Naboo was nothing like what I’d imagined.

My tutors, between their long and laborious sessions, would discuss the city from time to time in passing and they’d made it sound like nothing more than a backwater village. Something perhaps a little larger than Endor yet just as rough.

Instead, as we made our way through the gates, we were greeted by lush gardens and glittering fountains. People bustled around us, carrying crates of wears or else dragging along carts filled with animals. I held my breath as they caught sight of us, ready for them to scream or freeze in terror but of course this was the Kingdom of Alderaan.

Those who we passed pressed themselves against the buildings and into small alcoves, bending or curtseying low, their hands pressed to their hearts. Some children, however, bounced up and down on the tips of their toes, waving frantically. From the giggles and excited squeals, I assumed a few of the knights had returned the gesture—Poe most likely.

“Not what you expected, is it?” Lord Ren rumbled.

I shook my head. “No…it is not.”

As we turned into the city center, I caught sight of a large tree looming over the small buildings, small colorful ribbons tied along its vast branches where they dipped down toward the cobblestones. At the base laid piles of what looked like offerings—gold and fruit and small boxes.

“Tomorrow is Forhumyr,” he explained as we made our way around the tree.

My brows drew together. It was a long-dead harvest celebration that was once celebrated across the republic by many different names. “But the gods have abandoned us…”

He huffed a soft laugh, the arm around my waist tightening ever so slightly. “The gods might have abandoned your grandfather, but they are very much alive for the rest of us.”

With one gloved hand he gestured toward a mother and her two children as they approached the tree, setting a plate of steaming cakes before it in offering. The three of them bowed their heads until their brows touched the trunk and the moment was so intimate the bridge of my nose stung.

“They set out whatever they can offer for the gods in hopes the harvest will be plentiful. Tonight, all food and perishables will be gathered by the council members within this region and given to those most in need.”

My throat clicked with a swallow. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

“No, you would not have,” he murmured, tugging on the reigns as we reached a large building on the edge of the square.

We dismounted alongside the other knights and it was strange to see those around us smiling and bowing to the men rather than running for their lives. A few even approached Cardo, Vicrul, and Poe, offering them wreaths of flowers, though only Poe placed atop his curls while the other knights busied themselves with tying up their horses.

“We’ll rest here for the night,” Lord Ren said.

“If you don’t mind, my lord,” Vicrul started in his usual rasp, “a few of us will stay elsewhere in town.”

A beat of silence passed between them and I frowned before their leader nodded. “Back before dawn, understand?”

Almost all of the men nodded enthusiastically, dropping into deep bows and murmured “yes my lord”. Poe shot me a wink, adjusting his flower crown and setting off after the woman who had gifted it to him.

“They do not like this establishment?” I asked when we were left alone.

Kylo Ren chucked, tying off the reigns of his mount to the post. “It is not quite the one they are hoping to frequent tonight.”

Oh. Oh. They were in search of a brothel. I’d seen my fair share of them in Jakku, back before I’d known who I was to the Republic. But without another word he ushered me toward the door.

The tavern was large inside with dark wood beams and an iron chandelier laden with candles. Unlike in Endor, patrons barely batted an eye as we entered except perhaps to nod or raise their glass to him. A large man with a rounded belly emerged from behind the counter, wiping his hands clean on a rag before dropping into a low bow.

“Good day to you, honored sir. How may I be of assistance?”

Lord Ren’s hand flexed on my back before falling away. “Two rooms for the night, please, and a piece of linen to make into a sling for my companion.”

A deep line appeared between the man’s brows as his lips turned down. He bowed even deeper until I feared he might topple over. “My sincerest apologies, my lord, but we only have one room left for night with Formhayr on the morrow.”

Silence fell between them and suddenly I feared for the man’s safety. I had a feeling those who denied the mighty Kylo Ren rarely lived to see the morning.

“That is fine, thank you,” I said quickly. I would sleep on the floor, it was not the first time I’d done so.

Metal creaked as he turned to regard me from beneath his helmet. Gods below, it was so dark in here I wondered if he could even see anything. But the tavern owner sighed with relief, rushing back toward the bar and snatching the last key dangling from a long row of hooks as well as a long length of linen.

“Of course, I will not breathe a word of your predicament,” the man said quickly. “After all, it is not unheard of for those betrothed to share quarters. The gods are kind and without judgement for such things.”

Betrothed? This man thought…

“Yes, they are,” Kylo Ren murmured, accepting the key and fabric in exchange for a small satchel of gold.

The owner bowed again, this time over the gold. “Your room is the last door on the right. There is an adjoining bathing chamber as well, you’ll find it quickly I daresay.”

Lord Ren nodded stiffly, folding the linen. I turned to face him, my stomach swooped as he brushed my braid back, gently helping me slide my arm into the makeshift sling and securing it around my neck. Before I could thank him, the doors to the tavern burst open and the rest of the Knights of Ren flooded in.

“They have given all their provisions to those in need,” Poe complained. “May we eat with you here before we go, my lord?”

He froze, shoulders hiking high toward the edge of his helmet, but the men were already speaking with the owner who looked delighted, showing them toward a large table in the back and shooing away the few patrons who were seated there in conversation. None seemed put out, surprisingly, they merely bowed just as low as the owner before finding a new spot.

“You must be starved,” Poe continued, looking at me this time. “Come, eat before you both retire.”

I went to follow him toward the table when Lord Ren caught my good elbow. “You do not have to do this.”

“Do what?” I asked, brows ticking up in question.

He blew out a breath, distorted by the helmet. “Eat with them.”

For some reason, my heart gave a hollow pang. “Will you not be eating with us?”

The hand on my elbow twitched and fell away. “You…would want that?”

“Yes. Stay, Lord Ren. I would imagine you are in as much need as I am for a warm meal.” The words lingered between us, a reminder of what I was almost positive he’d done in the woods.

When he did not respond I shrugged, making my way to the table through the bustling crowd. Poe and Cardo shuffled to the side to make room for me on the bench, immediately filling a plate high with roast vegetables and meat which Cardo cut with his knife so I wouldn’t struggle. My stomach grumbled in anticipation and though I told myself I would not see if Lord Ren would follow, heavy footsteps announced his arrival.

He circled to the opposite side of the table, Vicrul and a male I was almost certain was named Ap’lek shifting to make room for their leader. All of his knights had removed their helmets, though their weapons stayed easily accessible on their baldrics. Would that mean…

“Will you be eating through your helmet, my lord?” Poe asked around a mouthful of meat while filling up a goblet of wine and passing it across to him.

I took a sip from my own goblet. There was no conceivable way for him to eat through the helmet—the slice for the mouth was barely the width of my finger. But when he did not respond, I assumed he would wait until later to eat, perhaps once everyone had gone their separate ways and I’d fallen asleep on the floor of our room.

Perhaps he was scarred like the God of Death, or perhaps Kylo Ren was a wanted fugitive who could not show his face by order of the King of Alderaan. I was almost certain Kylo Ren was not his real name, not that the men had given any indication it was fake—it was more a…feeling. The name felt similar to the helmet he wore: a way to keep others at a distance, to make others fear.

Eventually I picked up a piece of roasted meat, sighing in relief as salt and fat hit my tongue. Around us, the men fell into conversation mainly about the brothel they’d be visiting later. It was clear they frequented Naboo from their discussions of the different women and the…attractions they would find before the night’s end.

It was strange, but I felt more comfortable here in this tavern in the Kingdom of Alderaan than I ever had within my grandfather’s castle, save for when I had been allowed to dine with Rose and Finn alone. Though the knights occasionally checked in with me—mainly Cardo asking if I wanted more food or Poe seeing if I needed more wine—they were not watching me as I had been in Coruscant. And yes, these men were dangerous, I’d seen them kill without a second’s hesitation, but I knew they would not hurt me.

They could have allowed those men in the woods to kill me, but they did not, and it didn’t much matter anymore if it was on behalf of their king. Perhaps it was the work of the gods, who Lord Ren believed so fervently were still among us, soothing my worries but I did not fear as I used to.  

I popped a small piece of bread into my mouth, the fresh loaf a luxury after so long with stale slabs that were more ice than anything else. Lord Ren pulled his gloves from his hands and I froze. Beside me, Poe muttered something under his breath that sounded like “finally” but I could only watch enraptured as his lord unbuckled the chinstrap beneath the helmet.

My pulse pounded in my veins, stomach swooping to somewhere near my knees when he lifted the dark metal. First, I caught sight of a strong chin covered with a thick, dark beard, then full, wide lips that seemed familiar. But it wasn’t until the scar across his left cheek was revealed that tears pricked my eyes. I traced the path of the familiar wound up to dark eyes and heavy brows framing a prominent nose.

The man in my dreams slowly placed the helmet on the table, his attention never leaving mine and I could only stare in shock before two words slipped through my lips:

“It’s you…”

Chapter Text

Eyes I knew so well stared back at me from across the table, closer than we’d ever been before.

Well…that was not true—we’d been sharing a horse for over a week. A burning slid across the bridge of my nose as I took him in. Did he know, then? The burning slid lower, thickening my throat until I was forced to clear it. Kylo Ren watched the emotion as it passed across my face with a blank expression—blank, save for the furrow forming between his brows.

“Excuse me.” I climbed over the bench and all but ran for the stairs.

I took them two at a time, clutching my tattered skirts to keep from falling. The owner had said ours was the last door on the right, so that was where I went, forgetting I had no key. I stopped and tried for the metal latch. A gasp slipped through my lips and I pressed my brow to the wood, slamming my hand in frustration.

He knew, I felt it in my bones. That was why he never removed his mask—he hadn’t wanted me to know. A tiny fissure cracked through my already ragged heart and I squeezed my eyes shut tight to quell the rising tears.

Emotion was weakness.

But emotion was all I had left.

The unmistakable sound of boots stomping across the uneven floorboards pulled me upright. His helmet was back on, gloved hands twisting the key between his fingers before he slid it into the lock and opened the door. I pushed past him into the modestly furnished room, swallowing hard at the sight of the large bed which took up most of the floor.

“Rey…” he started and I spun to face him, the backs of my knees hitting the mattress.

“Take it off,” I rasped.

He hesitated, drawing the door shut behind him and placing the key on a small stool beside the door. But when he did nothing but stare, I closed the space between us, rising to my tiptoes and curling my fingers around the warm metal, fabric sling sliding up my arm as I did though no pain throbbed in my shoulder. Kylo Ren did not fight me as I drew off the dark metal. I took a step away, hugging the helmet to my chest as I took him in.

“Do you know who I am?” I whispered.

He nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. “I do.”

“Have you always known?” My voice quavered and I took another step back.

His chin dipped to his chest. “Yes.”

Acid tore through my chest, ripped across my stomach. I stared down at the helmet, a few stray tears falling between the horns.

“But you did not wish for me to know.” Fingertips touched my chin and I jumped back a step. “Do not touch me, my lord, I cannot bear it.”

“Look at me,” he commanded.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hating the slide of tears down my cheeks almost as much as I hated the comfort his touch brought as his gloved fingers caught them. “Why does your king want me? Why did you agree to come if you did not wish to share your identity?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

A bitter laugh slipped through my lips. I looked up to find him standing closer, the blank expression on his face gone and, in its place, he looked as if he was burning from the inside out. He took the helmet from me and threw it on the bed.

I watched it roll to a stop near the headboard. “Cannot or will not?”

“It is too dangerous.” When I made a noise of disgust he gripped the back of my nape, tilting my head up to his. “But Rey, I will tell you.”

“How could I possibly trust you?”

His attention dipped to my mouth and up again, breath ghosting across my face. My stomach clenched but the bitterness of betrayal was too strong, I could not allow myself to fall into him as my heart wanted. I twisted away but he held me in place.

“You are the other half of my soul,” he breathed, thumb stroking once against my pulse point. When I shook my head, he tightened his grip. “You know it’s true, you can feel it, in here.”

He pressed two fingers to my chest, right above my heart.

I batted his hand away. “I do not know what I feel.”

“Liar,” he whispered, but there was no venom in it.

He was too close. “Let me go.”

Green and gold flecked eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “Is that truly what you want?”

No, it wasn’t. What I wanted was to feel him press against me, to taste him, to know how it felt to be consumed by him—the man I had known and yet not my whole life. But he was not merely the man from my dreams, he was Kylo Ren, the knight who inflicted terror on the Republic on behalf of his king.

When I did not answer, he crouched a little lower until we were eye-to-eye. “When we get to Alderaan, I will tell you everything. There will be no secrets between us then.”

“Why can you not tell me now?” I asked, wincing as my voice cracked.

He blew out a breath. “I told you—it is not safe. The walls have ears and the trees have eyes. There is no place for us to speak freely, especially here.”

My throat clicked with a swallow. I knew what he said was the truth. How many times had my grandfather reminded me that spies existed everywhere, even in the castle? “Do you swear it?”

He nodded solemnly, adjusting the sling back on my shoulder. “I swear it. The moment we reach Alderaan you will know everything.”

My tongue darted across my lips and he tracked the movement like the predator he was. But at the mention of Alderaan my mind restarted, the events from this morning crashing back on me.

“They thought I was betrothed to someone from Alderaan.” Tension trickled through the air between us and I frowned. “So did the owner downstairs… Why do they think that, Lord Ren?”

“Do not call me that,” he snapped.

My hand lifted only to fall again at my sides. “Then what would you have me call you.”

He cleared his throat, stroking the curve of my jaw once before letting go. “Ben…call me Ben.”

“Why do they think that, Ben?” I pushed, crossing my arms over my chest.

His attention flicked to my right shoulder. “Because of your hair.”

“My hair?” I repeated, brows ticking up in question.

Ben took a step back, scrubbing a gloved hand across his face but he could not hide the flush creeping across his cheeks. I waited not so patiently for his explanation, looking down at my braid before realizing it was different than the usual plait. This one was more intricate, two smaller braids looping through one slightly larger one.

“You were so tired when we would stop and…one night you woke as I was putting you on your pallet and you began tearing through your hair to fix it so…” The blush deepened on his cheeks. “In Alderaan when two people become betrothed, one will braid a specific plait into the other’s hair as a sign that they are spoken for.”

I picked up the plait, vaguely remembering those nights when he would help me into the tent. Fingers running through my hair, soft murmurs I had been sure were dreams.

“You braided an Alderaanian betrothal plait into my hair.” It was not a question and yet he nodded. “Why, Ben?”

 Though the flush deepened on his cheeks, he took a step closer again, touching the braid where it fell over my shoulder. My stomach did a strange sort of flip, the hair on my arms standing on end. The air crackled between us as if lighting were about to strike, and when his eyes flicked back to mine, I swore he could see down into my very soul.

“Because you are mine.”

Chapter Text

It was on the tip of my tongue to deny it and yet I could not find it in me to speak the words aloud. Even if I was to, Ben would have surely seen right through it.

He slowly let go of the braid, my hair slipping through his fingertips. “Go, the bath should be ready and I’ve asked the owner to procure you new clothes.”

I nodded, stepping to the side and all but running to the bathing chamber whose door was ajar. Inside, a large wooden tub draped with linen sat in the center of the room, filled with steaming water the workers must have tended to while we ate. The door shut behind me with a click and I carefully removed the sling before drawing off my ruined clothes, relieved to be free of them after the days and days of endless travel. I dipped one of the small linen cloths into the water, scrubbing myself free of as much blood and dirt as I could before getting in.

As I bathed, my mind wandered back to Ben. Because you are mine. The words sent a shiver down my spine. But despite how true they felt, he had deceived me or at the very least withheld. All this time he’d known and I’d carried on as if he was nothing to me, merely my captor rather than the man the gods had put in my path.  

Perhaps it was with that bitterness I tore the leather thong from my hair, undoing the braid and scrubbing my scalp, ignoring my protesting shoulder. When I was clean enough, I used the one of the bolts of linen laid out on a nearby table and ran the bone toothed comb through my hair until the worst of the tangles were gone. A knock echoed on the door followed by Ben’s low voice.

“Your clothes are here.”

I wrapped the linen tightly around myself and opened the door to find him waiting on the other side. His attention slid from my face, to my throat and chest, to my loose hair streaming over my shoulders. A muscle twitched in his jaw while I took the bundle of fabric from him and closed the door once more.

The linen nightgown was rough against my skin but blessedly clean. It did not evade my notice that the white kirtle and dark blue surcoat were practically the colors of the Alderaanian royal family. But that was a matter for the morning, I told myself as I padded out into the bedchamber to find Ben removing the last pieces of his armor and setting them on the floor in front of the door.

Part of me had hoped without the armor he would not have appeared as imposing, but I’d been so terribly wrong. His shoulders were just as wide and now I could see the rippling strength of his muscles beneath his tunic, the way his trousers strained against his powerful legs. He, too, appeared at a loss as he regarded me, eyes flicking across each part of my body but always coming back to my hair.

“May I—”

“No,” I cut across him, sliding the sling back over my head. “You may not.”

Allowing him to braid my hair again, now knowing what it meant, was to say in not as many words that I forgave him. He huffed, dipping his chin once and all but stomping toward the bathing chamber, not batting an eye at having to use the water after me.

While he bathed, I threw one of the pillows onto the ground, followed by a wool blanket. I folded it up enough that it would provide some padding. This would be more than enough, especially for one night.

“What are you doing?”

I turned, scanning the room for another blanket, not wanting to take the other from him. “I’ll be taking the floor.”

Ben scoffed and I turned, heat flooding my cheeks to find him shirtless, trousers slung low over his hips. Gods below but he was…glorious. My fingertips itched to trace the muscles of his chest, to slid down the line to his bellybutton, trace the vee which pointed down—

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Not at all.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Of course.”

With trembling hands I went back to arranging my pallet before warmth cascaded over my back. A small gasp slipped through my lips as he lifted me off my feet, depositing me on the bed.

“You won’t be taking the floor.”

I did my best to shake him off, scampering toward the edge of the mattress with one arm before he caught me and dragged me back, my nightgown riding high over my thighs. We froze and when I looked over my shoulder, it was to find his attention fixed to my bare legs while his large hands flexed on my waist.

“It won’t be the first time,” I whispered.

Blown pupils slid up to meet mine. “You will never sleep on the floor again.”

A shiver rolled down my spine. The heat from my cheeks slid lower, pooling between my thighs, stoked by the thumb gently brushing against my ribs and catching the underside of my breast.

“I sleep on the ground almost every night.”

Ben shook his head slowly, dark hair spilling over his shoulders. “You sleep on a pallet in my tent. Not the ground.”

My throat clicked with a swallow. “It—it’s your tent?”

This time he nodded and I resisted the urge to push his hair behind his ears as some spilled across his scarred cheekbone. “I brought it for you. If I could have, I would have carried a whole godsdamned bed.”

I cursed the way my heart fluttered and stomach clenched, but more than anything I cursed myself when I licked my lips. His eyes darkened, chest heaving with a deep breath. But I cut across whatever he was about to say, whatever torch he was ready to put to this kindling. “I am going to sleep on the floor.”

 He only chuckled, taking a lock of my hair between his fingers. “We’ll see about that.”

A knock echoed on the door and I scrambled away while he sighed. In a flash, the good humor was gone, replaced by something ice cold as he stomped to the door and jerked it open.

“A missive for you, my l-lord,” the tavern owner stuttered, the small roll of parchment held up in offering.

  No longer did Ben, the man I’d dreamed of stand before the man—it was Kylo Ren, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he turned the scroll over. “This seal has been broken.”

“Aye my lord, i-it came to me in such a way,” the man rasped and even from where I was seated, I caught the sweat dewing across his brow.

So fast I was unsure where he’d been hiding it, a blade flashed in Ben’s hand, pressed to the owner’s throat. “Do you know who I am?”

The man nodded, fingertips scrambling against Ben’s arm to no avail.

“Who am I?” he pressed.

Gods below…would he kill this man merely because he read a letter?

“Y-you are Lo-Lord R-Ren, l-leader of the Kn—the Knights of Ren.” A tear slipped from the corner of the man’s eye. “Please, my lord. I did not read it, I swear it. I do not know how.”

I shifted on the bed, ready to tell him to stop, but Ben let the man go, arcing his dagger in my direction. “If any harm comes to her, I will hold you personally responsible. This tavern will be ashes and your family along with it. Do you understand me?”

The man nodded frantically, hand flying to the small nick on his throat while he bowed low and spoke to Ben’s feet. “Y-yes, m’lord, I understand.”

“Good, leave us,” he commanded, stepping back and closing the door shut on the man’s trembling form.

My heart beat wildly in my chest. All the warmth from minutes ago was gone, replaced by an icy dread. Ben unfurled the parchment while he drifted to the small hearth across from the bed. After a heartbeat, he threw it into the flames.

“Do you think he read it?” I whispered.

He stared at the fire, one hand gripping the rough-hewn mantle. “No, I do not. And even if he did, the message was in code, he would not have understood it.”

“Then why treat him so?” The words came out rough as I stared at the rippling muscles of his back.

Ben hung his head as if he wished to become one with the fire. “The world we live in is no different than a life in the wild. You are either predator or prey.” He turned to face me and there was not a single ounce of regret in his eyes. “I will not apologize for becoming who I am in order to protect those I love.”

The word hung in the air between us. He took a shuddering breath, carding a hand through his hair.

“I have to go out and speak with Kuruk about the next part of our journey.” He snatched up his tunic, dragging it over his head and grabbed his boots. “Your grandfather’s men have been sighted about twenty miles to the south and our original plan to take the Chandrila Road is no longer feasible.”

I rolled my lips together. “All right.”

He stood, buckling his baldric to his hips but forgoing his armor. Though he grabbed his gloves, he paused, circling the bed to kneel in front of me, warm fingertips curling around the back of my knee.

“Do not open the door for anyone, do you hear me? I’m going to lock you in.”

 I nodded and he squeezed my calf, hesitating for a moment before rising and pressing a lingering kiss to my brow.

“Sleep in the bed. I’ll be back before long.”

Without another word he left, the click of the lock echoing in the room with his departure. I tried my best to detangle my thoughts, to come to terms with the reality of who Kylo Ren truly was. Yet the more I tried, the more my lids drooped, until finally I slipped from the bed and settled onto the ground.

I was asleep before Ben came back, but had vague recollections of someone picking me up, of soft murmurs and warmth cocooning around me.

And for the first time, I did not dream of the meadow because the man of my dreams was right there with me.

Chapter Text

I woke slowly.

Warmth encircled my waist, a heavy weight slung across my chest, but my insides burned. Between my thighs I ached in a way I had not before and a soft whimper slipped through my lips. At my back, air swirled my loose hair, and something pressed against my thighs, a soft rocking motion that had me pushing back, seeking out the friction I needed to make the ache disappear.

My eyes shot open at the rumbling groan behind me. The darkness of night wept from beneath the uneven curtain and yet I was suddenly wide awake. Ben had one arm wrapped around my chest, the other pillowed beneath my head for me to rest on his bicep. But the hand wrapped around my ribs slid higher, lazily cupping one breast as his hips made a languid rock against me.

My nightgown rucked up and though he’d kept his trousers on there was no mistaking the heavy press of his length against my backside. And with the slowness of sleep, his thumb strummed across my nipple while he rutted. Though I fought it, a soft moan slid through my teeth. The desperate, unthinking part of me had half a mind to free him from the confines of his clothes. Only he could take this burning need away, only he could—

“Gods,” Ben rumbled, his hand flying from my breast.

Reality came crashing back as his warmth disappeared and I scrambled to the other side of the bed, clutching the blanket to me. Ben had one hand splayed out between us, as if he’d thought to grab me but moved too late. His wide chest heaved with his breaths, pupils blown out beneath the tendrils of hair falling over his face.

“I—” he blew out a breath, slowly sliding his arm back to his side. “I did not know what I was doing, I swear it.”

Heat scalded my cheeks. Did that mean he had not wanted to? Or did he think I did not? And though I opened my mouth to ask or to clarify, another entirely different question came tumbling out. “Did you kill them?”

He froze. “Kill who?”

My stomach twisted. Of course I would need to clarify—this male had taken countless lives. I swallowed thickly, wishing I hadn’t voiced the question and yet needing to know.

“My guard, Finn, and handmaiden, Rose,” I rasped, their descriptions coming out as a harsh whisper. Rose’s rounded cheeks, Finn’s dark skin, and other attributes he never needed to know. The sound of Rose’s laugh, Finn’s brotherly teasing.

His eyes slid from mine to the bed, flicking back and forth as if he were reading from a page. “I…do not know.”

A lump formed in my throat and I tried to clear it to no avail. The room hazed and it was not merely his lack of reassurance, but the horror on his face. The possibility he might have killed the only two people in the world who meant anything to me slunk into the room like the god of death himself.

“I do not know,” he repeated, but it was too late. I squeezed my eyes shut, jerking back from the warmth of his fingertips across the healing skin of my cheek. “What I do know is I remember almost all those I kill and I do not remember them.”

It was merely a branch extended toward me in the rising tide of grief, too flimsy to truly hold on to and yet I did. I snatched it and held on for dear life. We did not speak of the other knights, how it could have very well been one of them to take their lives.

“The gods say nothing,” he murmured.

I scoffed. “They always say nothing.”

A heavy silence fell between us. I blinked, a few stray tears escaping as I cleared my vision to find him closer than before, his hand heavy where my neck met my shoulder. A muscle worked in his jaw as we regarded one another and though I’d spent less than a day around him without his helmet, I’d seen his face my entire life. I could read the regret pooling in the corners of his eyes, the sorrow in the slight downturn of his full lips just as I could feel it as if it was rolling off him in waves. He spoke his regret without truly speaking aloud, thumb stroking gently against my collar bone.

“Come,” he murmured, releasing me and sliding off the bed. “We will make an offering to Marloweth before we depart.”

I frowned as he tugged on his gambeson, the black padded tunic rustling as it dragged across his arms but did not touch his breastplate, helmet, and gauntlets where they were laid out across a low dresser. When he turned, he appeared as if he were ready to see the King or spend a day at court instead of riding off into the wilds of Alderaan. He raised an expectant brow and I hesitantly rose, reaching for the clothes he’d procured for me last night. I had half a mind to strip in front of him only to watch him squirm, but instead I padded to the bathing chamber to change, marveling at the fine craftsmanship of the pieces. My shoulder did not ache as it had yesterday, so I put aside the makeshift sling.

My hair had dried in loose waves and I pulled the bone toothed comb through it quickly before making my way back, wondering how it was we’d be making an offering to Marloweth. Would we be expected to sacrificed something?

Ben shot to his feet as I entered, his gaze appreciative as he took in my clothing. I folded the nightgown carefully before he took it and the sling from me, sliding it into the pack he must have brought with him and leaving it beside his armor.

“We will return,” he explained when I hesitated at the open door.

My pulse thrummed in my throat but I nodded, stepping out into the hall and waiting for him to turn the lock before following down the stairs. The tavern was quiet, only a few embers burned in the fire, and the owner was nowhere to be seen. The same was said for the once bustling street—all were still tucked into their beds.

“This way,” he murmured, but instead of guiding me with a touch to my back, his fingers slid between mine, squeezing once before we set off.

I should have pulled my hand away. I should have hissed recriminations and told him to take me home. But where was home? Without Finn and Rose there was nothing left for me back in Coruscant…

Because of him.

And yet I did not pull my hand from his.

We passed the towering tree in the center of the square, all the gifts now gone and distributed I assumed as Ben had explained. “Is this not where we offer to the gods?”

He shook his head. “No, this is only where we would offer to Forhum, the god of harvest.”

The light of the moon cast shadows across the low buildings, but Ben walked with a confidence that spoke of lifetimes perhaps spent within the city. We made our way through one serpentine alley which opened to another wider one, before climbing a small hill and finding ourselves before a dark arched doorway.

His thumb traced across my knuckles as he pushed on the metal and tugged me inside. I wondered if he could hear my heart beating in my chest when we ducked between two swaths of dark fabric, the scent of incense and sage heavy on the air, making my head spin. Footsteps echoed through the dark room, but I could not see a single soul beside us.

I shivered as cold dripped down the back of my spine and for a moment I feared Ben would let me go, but he held on tightly as he guided us toward a black burning candle on a simple stone plinth.

“Here we will make our offering to Marloweth, God of Death, Keeper of Souls,” he murmured respectfully, dropping my hand to reach inside his gambeson for a short dagger. The cold intensified as he raised it and I could have sworn a humming started from somewhere in the room from those wandering out of sight.

The humming grew louder, an outright chant beginning. Air swirled around us, blowing our hair and yet the flame never flickered. Ben brought the blade down upon his palm and in an instant all went quiet.

“I am but a humble servant,” Ben said softly, squeezing his hand into a fist so the droplets of blood fell onto the flame. “Offering this piece of myself in the hopes you might ease those within your embrace.”

The flame flickered, orange became black. Ben handed me the dagger, nodding once before returning his attention to the candle. My hands shook as I weighed the weapon. I bit back my hiss as the blade sliced through my skin. Yet as soon as the pain came, it left and with it went the cold.

“I am but a humble servant,” I repeated and without looking at me, Ben nodded again. Behind me, a warmth spread as if someone had placed a hand on my shoulder. “Offering this piece of myself in the hopes you might ease those within your embrace.”

I took a deep breath, extending my arm and turning my fist so my blood dripped onto the flame. “For Finn Storm and Rose Tico.”

The black flame burned brighter, then went out. Serpentine smoke curled around my trembling hand. I opened my fingers and my breath caught as it slithered across the cut on my palm, the skin stitching back together and smoothing as if the wound had never been.

“Thank you, Keeper of Souls,” Ben murmured, gently cupping the back of my neck to encourage me to bow along with him as we took small steps backward before turning and making our way toward the temple door.

The chamber was quiet now, as if we had really been alone all along.

Chapter Text

“Who taught you to fight?”

I shifted in the saddle, gripping the pommel with one hand to turn and regard Ben. When we had begun our journey from Naboo five days ago—forgoing the more direct route to Alderaan on the main road for a winding path through the forests—I’d given up on the strange propriety of Coruscant and started riding astride as I had as a child. In those last five days we had not spoken often, the strange magic from the temple had seem to linger around us. But despite the silence, things had changed.

Ben kept his helmet on as we traveled, but at night he would remove it while we gathered around whatever meager fire Vicrul was able to start. I’d brush out my hair with the bone tooth comb that had appeared in our packs. Not long after, a muscle would twitch in his jaw as he watched me braid it back from my face, fingers twitching against his knees. And every night he’d walk me to his tent, run the plait through his fingers, and promise to keep watch.

Only the gods knew when the man was sleeping, for he did not often appear in my dreams.

Now his arm wrapped around my waist tightened and I was almost positive it was not to secure me on the horse. His gloved hand splayed wide across my hip, thumb brushing in a maddening rhythm against my ribs, occasionally gliding the tip beneath my breast. Of course, there was nothing to see as I craned my neck around to look at him, only the black metal horns curled up toward the sky, but I could feel his gaze. I rolled my lips together before righting myself, peering through the thick trees dappled with weak winter sun.

“Finn taught me,” I answered softly.

Ben hummed. “I did not think the Republic liked their women to learn to fight.”

I huffed a laugh, chin dropping to my chest. “No, I daresay they do not.”

“But he trained you anyway,” he hedged.

“Yes, I… I was fifteen when my grandfather found me and brought me to court, still reeling from the loss of my parents.”

His hand flexed across my ribs, drawing me back tighter against his armored chest. “Court can be a lonely and dangerous place for one so young and vulnerable.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, nodding. “It was. And back then I was half starved, barely more than sunburned skin and bones.”

Unbidden came the memory of that time. The wet, rasping coughs of my parents. When I blinked I saw their mottled skin, heard the blood in their lungs, felt the pang of hunger in my belly.

“I remember,” he murmured.

Heat scalded my cheeks. Of course he remembered—though he was perhaps a few years older, maybe Finn’s age, we’d grown up together in our dreams. Back then he’d been all ears and nose, but there had been something so lovely about him despite his obvious dark tempers and moods.

“Well,” I began before sighing heavily. “When my grandfather’s men brought me to court, Finn was assigned to be my personal guard. He’d just moved up the ranks at seventeen to working in the castle and no one else wanted to mind a grieving fifteen-year-old. He took pity on me, recognized how the grief was eating me alive and gave me an outlet.”

“He sounds like a good man.”

The words hung heavy in the air between us. Was he still a good man or was he now ashes in the wind? I cleared my throat, cursing my heart when Ben’s grip tightened and it gave a stupid flip. But I did not pull away, I could not seem to.

“As the years passed it became more difficult to train as my grandfather’s tutors would sometimes take the entire day, but we kept up with the basics.” I touched the now healed bruise from Lord Hux on my cheekbone. “Though I could not always use the skills he taught me, merely knowing I had the power was enough sometimes to endure.”

“Endure,” Ben repeated. “Rey… you must know I went searchi—”

His words cut off as a cry sounded behind us. Something whizzed through the air and his fist snapped out, catching the arrow before it could hit our mount. He broke the wood between his fingers, kicking his heels into the beast’s flank. Behind us, hooves crashed across the bracken, amplified by the newcomers. I chanced a glance back only to find the banners not of the Republic, but of my grandfather trailing in the wind. Though perhaps now they were one in the same.

“There’s no outrunning them,” I rasped.

Poe’s helmet flashed in the sun as the Knights of Ren caught up with us. “What should we do, my lord?”

Ben cursed and gripped me tight enough I wondered if I would have bruises. “Do you want to return to them?”

I blinked, realizing it was me he was talking to and the words came out so fast they did not sound like my own. “No.”

“Then we fight,” he growled. “Poe, prepare the men and have Ushar get a count if they can.”

Poe dipped his chin, clapping a fist over his chest before deftly maneuvering his horse back the way we’d come. Ben shifted, releasing me in favor of unsheathing a weapon.

“Take this.” A short sword appeared with the hilt tilted toward me in offering. I gripped it carefully—it was heavy, but not as cumbersome as his broadsword would have been. “Poe will signal when they are close.”

The words had barely left his mouth when a shrill cry echoed off the trees. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and my breaths were nothing more than ragged pants.

“Hold on to me, sweetheart,” he murmured. I gripped his arm with my free hand as he pulled back on the reigns. “We’ll swing off in three, two, one.”

Together we dismounted as his stallion came to a halt. He slapped its rear, sending it off into the forest and we turned to face the approaching silver-clad warriors. Though I had no inclination to return to my grandfather, especially not now I knew who Ben was (not without some sort of resolution between us at least) I searched their armor desperately, looking for any sign of recognition. But there was no one here I knew.

Ben pushed me behind him as they approached. I barely had a moment to right myself before another arrow came flying, missing us both by mere inches. The clang of metal rang in my ears as the first knight struck. Ben’s roar was a deep, animalistic tone that made a few stumble back a step.

Did they know who it was they fought? Did they know they faced the mighty Kylo Ren?

One knight reached for me and Ben twisted at the last moment, catching him in the armpit, blood spraying through the air. The man cried out and I spun away from another, but the move took me out of Ben’s reach. Nearby I spotted a few of Ben’s knights taking the Republic soldiers down in droves, Vicrul’s rasping laugh like something out of a nightmare.

“Come with us, Princess,” one of my grandfather’s men panted, reaching for my skirts.

Panic skittered across my skin as he herded me into the forests, the sound of the fray close and yet too far away.

I stumbled back, my voice barely more than a rasp. “No.”

He paused and through the slits in his helm I could just make out the confusion on his face. “We are here to take you home.”

I lifted my sword and the man barely seemed to register the threat, lunging forward as if I carried nothing more than a stick. The slice of metal against flesh roiled up my arms when I caught his throat. His eyes went wide, blood streamed from his neck, and it felt like hours instead of seconds as the light dimmed in his eyes and he fell to the ground. I stumbled back unable to keep a good grip on the sword with my shaking hands. Suddenly I was not in the forest, but in the desert.

There was blood on my hands.

Blood on my face.

And a body laid at my feet.

A shout rent through the air, one that sounded like Poe, shaking me from my stupor. I took off, forcing the memory into the deep caverns of my mind where it usually lived. I stumbled as I made it back to where the Knights of Ren had been. Most of my grandfather’s men were defeated, save for a handful who continued to fight. Ben squared off with one, his powerful shoulders heaving as they circled each other.

Like wolves, they attacked, metal screeching through the air while they met each other blow for blow. Ben shoved the man back and, in the scuffle, the silver helmet of the soldier went flying. My stomach dropped to my knees as a familiar head of tight black curls appeared.

Finn. Gods below, he was still alive.

Ben, too, appeared to recognize him. His defensive stance dropped, sword falling uselessly to his side. Finn, however, snarled, raising his weapon high above his head. My heart slammed against my ribs, feet moving without thought as I darted into the clearing, the negation a scream that mixed with Ben’s.

I would not let him die.

So I ran between them.

Chapter Text

My blade caught Finn’s before it could crash down on Ben.

He gaped, jerking back his arms. “R-Rey?”

“Leave him,” I rasped, grasping the hilt tighter.

“Rey, he—this is Kylo Ren,” he pleaded, pointing his sword at the man behind me and I slammed my blade down on his. Tears welled in his eyes as we regarded one another. “What did he do to you?”

“There is so much you do not understand,” I choked, keeping my weapon trained ahead of me just as he’d taught years ago. “Please, just listen.”

Finn shook his head. “It’s you who doesn’t understand. Do you not know who he is?”

“I know exactly who he is.”

He blinked at the fervor in my voice. I lifted my arm a little higher, ready to defend but wide hands slid around my shoulders and warmth flooded my back. Ben’s voice came out as a low rumble. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

Finn’s eyes widened as he stared at the place where Ben touched me, but I did as he indicated, lowering my arm and allowing him to take the sword from my hand. Poe appeared behind my old friend—helmet tucked beneath his arm and his usual good humor absent.

“All secured, Lord Ren, except for this one.”

Ben kept a hand on me, moving to my side while Finn raised his sword. “Keep him alive, Poe.”

If Poe was surprised, he gave no indication as he dipped his chin, shoved the helmet on his head, and in one swift motion disarmed the lone Republic Knight. But Finn’s eyes never left where Ben’s hand was curled around me, betrayal written all across his features.

“You are with him,” he rasped.

A haze filtered through the forest and I forced the tears back. “Finn—”

“Eh,” Poe interrupted as he checked Finn over for weapons. “It’s a real ‘will they, won’t they’ at the present moment.”

Finn appeared to deflate as he allowed Poe to search him, though he had only his sword and a dagger on his person. After another moment, he dropped his gaze to the ground. “Why keep me alive at all?”

Ben sighed, running a hand down my hair. “Because it is what she wants.”

A lump formed in my throat. I took in his blood splattered helmet, the small sliver of pale skin practically red with it. It was as if I had never truly seen before this moment, as if suddenly all the broken pieces of my past were sliding into place.

Finn’s brows drew together while he stared at a point on the ground between us. A wave of grief reared up as I studied him. When I’d thought of Finn and Rose—when I’d imagined our reunion—never had I thought it would have been like this. I should have felt relief he was alive, I should have fallen into his arms and cried tears of happiness. Instead, it was as though an invisible hand wrapped itself around my throat and squeezed.

“Finn…” I breathed. He looked up, his shoulders hiking toward his ears. “Is Rose…” I could not continue the question, could not stand to even speak the words aloud.

“Alive,” he murmured. “She’s alive.”

My knees nearly buckled as the relief washed over me and Ben steadied me. She was alive, Rose was alive. I could not help but repeat the words as the rest of the knights appeared around us, holding the reigns of their horses including Ben’s black stallion. My heart squeezed at the sight of the towering horse, especially as it ambled closer, warm nose nuzzling against my cheek. I pressed my lips tightly together and tried to find some semblance of control over the dam of emotions threatening to overtake me. Finn kept his attention fixed to the ground as Poe guided him over to one of the abandoned horses we were taking with us. He pulled a rope from his pack and tied it to the Republic issued saddle before attaching it to his own.

“I do not wish to dishonor you by putting you in shackles,” Poe said. “Will you fight me or will you come freely?”

Ben lifted me onto the back of the stallion and followed behind, one arm wrapping beneath my cloak. I watched as Poe and Finn sized each other up before the latter dipped his chin.

“I will not fight you.”

Poe clapped him on the shoulder and indicated he should mount. Just for a moment our eyes met as Finn settled on the horse and I recoiled as if he’d slapped me—suddenly his familiar face was that of a stranger. But Ben clicked his tongue, turning the stallion to the north as we’d been heading.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a time, dipping his head down so I could hear him over the pounding of hooves as we were now all riding closer together than before.

My dry throat clicked with a swallow and the sound had him reaching into one of the saddle bags for a waterskin. I took a deep drink, the cool water burning down my throat.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and handed the skin back to him. “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

Ben’s arm wound around my waist and I shivered as the cold metal of his armor hit my back. He pulled his cloak around us both and I wished he could take off his helmet so I could see his expression when I turned my face up to his. Instead, it was Kylo Ren looming over me, appearing as ominous as Death itself.

“It is because of me he is angry with you.”

I huffed a bitter laugh, turning my attention to the forest in front of us. “It is because of you he lives…” I frowned. “How did you know who he was?”

Ben sighed, the sound distorted through the helmet. “I remembered how you’d described him and the way he attacked…it reminded me of you—the way you’d tried to fight me off the first day we met and then with that man on the outskirts of Coruscant.” There was more he left unsaid from the sound of him opening his mouth then closing it as if thinking better of speaking again.

“Did the gods tell you?” I pitched my voice lower.  

His hand flexed across my hip and my stomach swooped. I tightened my hands on the pommel, forcing them to stay in place rather than reaching for him.

Just a single word, barely more than a breath. “Yes.”

Adrenaline thrummed through my veins at the confirmation of what I’d already known. He’d said within Alderaan the gods still lived and I’d seen for myself the way they’d blessed him. Yet something about this was different. They spoke to him.

Dusk fell around us, the humming of insects threading through the air like magic. The odd conversation floated to us from the others, mainly Poe trying to engage Finn or perhaps nudging him toward some reaction. I followed the sound, finding them side-by-side, Poe’s grin taking up the majority of his face while Finn scowled.

“Why did you stop fighting?” I murmured.

Ben was silent so long I feared he might not have heard. “He is your family. To hurt him would be to hurt you and I would have rather cut off my own hand than cause you another moment of heartache.” He paused, sliding his palm up my arm.

His name came out on pained moan, as if he’d reached into my chest and torn out my heart. I could see their fight so clearly in my mind: how the moment he’d recognized Finn his weapon had lowered dangerously—he’d resigned himself to his fate not realizing Finn was not the only one I cared for.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” he said as if he had not just blown open my defenses, pulling back on the reigns and signaling to the others.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek while we dismounted and set up camp. Over the last few days I’d fallen into a routine with Poe and Cardo, gathering up stones and tinder nearby for the fire while the others set up the small tents and prepared food. Every so often I caught sight of Finn out of the corner of my eye watching us work in quiet companionship as if I were a stranger too. I dusted my hands off on my skirts and tentatively made my way over to him.

The words caught in my throat and it felt like squeezing blood from stone to push them past my lips. “Will you listen to me now?”

He huffed, the sound so unlike him it had me searching his face as the first few flames flickered to life. “These people are monsters, Rey. They have killed indiscriminately.”

I scanned the campsite, trying to see it through his eyes. “Are they?”

“Yes,” he snapped, finally turning to look at me fully. “They are.”

My brows ticked up. “You have raided their lands, have you not? You have spilled Alderaanian blood, man, woman, and child alike.”

“Because my king commanded—”

“Then what is the difference?” I cut across him. “How is what they are doing any different from the orders yourself have enacted on the command of your king?”

His cheeks darkened. “He is your king too.”

Acid coated my tongue, eating away my thoughtless retort before I could put voice to it. Instead, I shook my head and ran a hand through the pieces of hair that had fallen from my braid. “You are wrong about Lord Ren.”

Finn laughed without humor. “You have known him a little more than a fortnight and yet you claim to know the contents of Kylo Ren’s soul.”

A dark shadow slithered across the corner of my eye and I turned to find Ben standing beside the fire, tugging off his helmet and brushing back his hair. Our eyes met and suddenly it was as if nothing else in the world existed. Just us. Just this.

“I have known his soul for almost as long as I have known my own,” I answered quietly, breaking Ben’s stare to turn back toward my friend. “And I will make no apologies for protecting him.”

Finn opened his mouth to argue but I shook my head and slipped away, unwilling to hear another word. Instead, I accepted a small serving of food piled on a slab of bread from Cardo and settled before the fire. Eventually Poe made his way over to Finn with an offering of his own, but I didn’t wait to see if he accepted it. Once I’d finished my meal I wandered toward Ben’s tent, finding the bedroll already laid out and my comb resting on top.

With a sigh I fell onto the furs and undid the tie around the end of my hair, working out the worst of the tangles. It was not the argument with Finn I replayed in my head however, but Ben’s final words before we’d made camp.

I would have rather cut off my own hand than cause you another moment of heartache.

Nerves fluttered like wild birds in my belly as I pushed to my feet. I twisted my fingers together as I made the short walk back to the fire. Ben caught sight of me, his gaze falling to my loose hair spilling over one shoulder. He lowered the waterskin he’d been drinking from, his lips gleaming in the firelight. I didn’t know what my face looked like, but he rose at once, handing off the skin to Ap’lek without breaking my gaze.

In an instant he towered over me, fingertips skimming my jaw. “What is it, sweetheart?”

I swallowed thickly and for once it was not fear that held my voice. He took a step closer, his thumb dragging once across my lower lip and I caught his wrist, drawing it up to press it to his palm.

“Ben…” I breathed, steeling myself. “Will you… Will you tend to my hair?”

Chapter Text

The warmth from Ben’s hand on my spine engulfed me until I pulled at the ties of my cloak to let the wintry night air cool my skin.

He said nothing as we made the short walk back, but his hand shook slightly as he reached for the flap and encouraged me inside. Alone, the tent had not been spacious, but it was at least comfortable. But with Ben inside with me, it was as if he was everywhere, his broad shoulders taking up almost the entire width.

“Sit down,” he murmured.

I knelt on the furs, knotting my hands in my lap. It was dark, but I was just able to make him out as he gazed down at me with fire in his eyes, a burning so acute it made my stomach twist. I pressed my thighs together, swallowing thickly when he circled behind, the furs dipping as he lowered to his knees. One hand curled over my shoulder and I jumped. Ben made a soft noise of apology, his touch gentling as he guided me to sit back on my heels.

The wide teeth of the comb passed once through my hair, then again. I shivered as his fingertips slid through my scalp following behind, each touch a strike of lightning to my chest. There was something I needed and yet I feared the desire as much as I craved it. The tension in the air was so thick around us, it was as if I could have dragged my hand through it. But I kept my fingers knotted in my lap, especially as he placed the comb down by my foot and gently tipped my head back.

Just for a moment, I caught a flash of his face. A rosy blush stained his cheekbones and his fingers trembled while he gathered the first section of hair. 

“Did your father teach you to do this?” The question came out as barely more than whisper.

He chuckled but the sound was more heartbreaking than joyful. “No, definitely not.”

I frowned. From the little I knew of Alderaan the art of hair braiding was passed from father to son with each family having their own unique plait. Seeming to hear the question in my silence, Ben cleared his throat.

“My father and mother met while she was on a trip to Corellia. This was back when Alderaan was still a part of the Republic and he was a low-level solider but…” he sighed, deftly weaving another section of hair together, “they fell in love against all odds and were married in secret. Han never took to most of the customs of our people so my grandfather, Anakin, was the one who taught me.”

I made a soft noise of understanding. The name Anakin was familiar, though I could not put my finger on where I’d heard it before. But there were countless famous knights from Alderaan in the history books, hundreds of revered warriors who were now seen as traitors and enemies to the Republic.

“Are they still with you?” I asked softly.

“No,” Ben breathed. “Both my parents and grandparents are with the gods now.”

I reached back, grazing his knee, needing to offer any semblance of comfort I could.

His voice was barely more than a whisper. “How did your parents pass?”

Grief became a living, breathing creature in the dark around us, slinking in from the shadows to curl around our shoulders. I took a deep breath, twisting the frayed cuff of my dress between two fingers.

“A fever… it came on suddenly and they were dead before the sun rose,” I rasped. When I closed my eyes, I saw them there, the strange mottled color of their skin, the putrid scent of death that had slunk into our small cave house hours before Marloweth took them.

“It is a heavy burden,” he said gently, deft fingers weaving through my hair.

My throat clicked with a swallow. “Yes…it is.”

And I knew they were not the hollow words I usually heard about my parents. He knew acutely the pain of losing the two people in the world who were supposed to love and care for you, even if our circumstances were different.

Silence fell around us, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it felt like some final wall had fallen between us. I kept my touch curled around his leg as he finished, tying the leather around the end. He did so reverently, as if he held not my hair between his hands but a precious stone. When I turned to face him, it was to find Ben lifting the finished braid to his lips.

“From my first breath to my last, I am and always will be yours,” he vowed, pressing another kiss to my hair.

My breath caught in my throat and an ache began between my thighs. His eyes flicked up to mine as he let the braid fall between his fingertips. The barest bit of moonlight spilled in from the slats of the tent, illuminating the soft curve of his mouth, the strong line of his jaw, the black waves of his hair where they brushed his tunic—his armor having long been removed and cleaned.

Ben drew his hand up between us and for a moment we were there in the meadow of our dreams.  “Don’t be afraid…I feel it too.”

Gods. He dragged the tips of his fingers down the line of my jaw and I shivered. And I wasn’t afraid—not with him here with me.

“Let me kiss you, sweetheart. I think I may die if I do not.”

Nerves skittered down my spine, but I nodded. I expected him to strike as he had on the battlefield, to take what he was owed and leave no quarter. But I was wrong. His hand fell to my hip, pulling me closer until our knees touched, the other sliding across my cheek before curling around the nape of my neck. My belly clenched, the ache between my thighs becoming almost painful while he tilted my head up, thumb stroking the line of my jaw.

Ben regarded me tenderly, his gaze winding a path from my eyes, to my mouth, to the braid over my shoulder and back again. I would be lying if I’d said I had not imagined this moment, if I had not wondered what it would be like to be so close to the man I’d dreamed of for years. Yet it was nothing like I’d dreamed, not even close.

He slowly lowered his head and my eyes fluttered shut but he did not kiss me. His mouth skimmed across my brow, the line of one cheek bone, then the other. A soft whimper slipped from me and I could not stop myself from reaching for him, my palms landing on the firm muscles of his chest.

“Ben.”

Before I could beg, his mouth covered mine and for the very first time I thought I understood what it was to be alive. His kiss was a long drink of water after years in the desert, shade in a lifetime of sun. He held me with all the possession he’d had as we’d ridden on the horse and then some. Fervor, that was what it was. Ben’s fingertips traced the line of my jaw, the curve of my cheek, the dip of my throat, learning me, memorizing me.

So I did the same. My palms ran across his wide chest and shoulders, loving the strength and power that gentled only for me. I ran my fingers through his soft waves and he groaned, drawing me up to my knees. The length of his body pressed against mine, my head tilting back as he bowed forward. His mouth slid to my jaw, nipping and sucking at my pulse point before moving lower, teeth grazing the curve where my neck met my shoulder.

“So soft,” he murmured. “So godsdamned beautiful.”

I moaned his name in a desperate plea as he kissed my throat, palms smoothing across my ribs, spanning my waist, before one rose to cup my breast. I whimpered as his thumb stroked across the peak. Before when he’d touched me, it had been with the languidity of dreamers. Now his hands were firm and I knew there would be no drawing away in panic.

I reached for his tunic, dragging it up until he understood what I wanted and released me, gripping it by the back and pulling it over his head. Gods below. There was so much to look at and yet I felt I would need a century to learn each muscle, each healed wound, each freckle. The scar on his face did not end at his throat as I’d expected, but ran a path down to his shoulder. I leaned forward, kissing the spot, dragging my lips up the brutal line until he crushed me against him once more.

“Careful, sweetheart.”

But I did not want to be careful. Not when the circle of his arms felt so warm and so safe. I shifted closer, my knees falling on either side of his as calloused fingers dug into my hips, steadying me. The fabric of my skirt bunched around me, creating a frustrating barrier between us. With a huff, I tugged at them only for Ben to grip my face and take my mouth once more.

Our moans tangled together as his tongue slid in. I wrapped my arms around his neck while he wrapped my braid around his fist, keeping me tight against him as he shifted, laying me onto the furs so gently my eyes pricked.

“Please, Ben,” I pleaded. “I need you.”

His moan was a near growl as he laid his body atop mine, surrounding me until there was nothing in the world but him. I wrapped my legs around him, hips cradling one another as he consumed me, the warmth of his body seeping into my bones so deep I had no memory of the cold.

“Not here,” he rasped. “When I take you, it will not be in the woods with other men near to hear you fall apart.”

A sound so pitiful whined from my throat embarrassment scalded my cheeks. But he kissed me again, a smile playing on his lips. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll watch over you.”

Ben pushed upright but I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him back down to me. “Do not leave me, not yet.”

Though I spent all day wrapped in him as we rode, this was different. I wanted to fall asleep nestled in his embrace, for us to enter the meadow together. His brows furrowed and I lifted my head to brush my lips across them. He kissed me tenderly, unable to stop himself from touching my braid for too long.

“I’ll arrange the watch with Vicrul,” he murmured between kisses and finally I allowed him to leave, the bite of winter pricking my skin as the tent flap closed behind him.

Only a few minutes later he returned. I’d settled beneath the furs, fist tucked beneath my chin, and he slipped in behind me, drawing my back to his chest.

“There is so much I need to tell you, Rey,” Ben whispered right as I was on the edge of dreams.

But I was asleep before he could speak them aloud.

Chapter Text

The next handful of days were brutal.

We traveled with few stops, taking circuitous routes in case any other Republic soldiers were following us. But the journey was not the only torture, it was the proximity to Ben as we rode, the need growing deeper with every breath we took. Each night after we ate, he would follow me back to our tent, brushing out my hair and re-braiding it with a tenderness akin to worship. After, he would kiss the end of the plait and murmur the same vow as before:

From my first breath to my last, I am and always will be yours.

Though he would hold me close and cover my mouth with his, tasting me, teasing me, he never moved to quench the flame growing brighter between us. But I felt his need as much as I felt my own—the idle touches, the press of his body against mine, the way he lifted his helmet while we rode to kiss my throat, my shoulders.

As we were always at the point of the group, I was sure most did not see his attention, especially with the hood of his cloak hiding us from view. But I supposed it did not matter—all in the camp knew we shared a tent and that he would rise for his watch with kiss stung lips. I assumed it was part of the reason Finn refused to speak with me. To him, I had betrayed my kingdom.

And… I supposed he was right.

The deeper I fell into Ben, the less likely it was I would return to my grandfather. Yet even that was a lie—I had no idea what the future held, but I knew it was not in Coruscant. Though perhaps it had never been, given the King’s willingness to send me to Arkanis with Lord Hux.

Ben threw a first up into the air, signaling the party to slow and then stop. The sun was burning across the sky with its final light of the day, oranges and reds giving way to deep purples and blues.  

“Tomorrow we will reach Alderaan,” he murmured as his stallion came to a halt. “We’ll camp here and leave before dawn.”

I nodded as he dismounted and removed his helmet before turning back to me. With practiced ease, I reached for him and he gently drew me down from the saddle, cradling me for perhaps a little longer than necessary. His lips brushed my brow before he placed me on my feet, one calloused hand finding mine.

“There is a spring just over that hill.” he pointed toward the mountain range. “You can bathe in if you like.”

I nodded. “Will you join me?”

A blush crept across his cheeks and his pupils blew wide. Gods below, the reality of my words struck me across the face and heat seared up the back of my neck.

“I—gods—I mean, not to—” I blew out a breath. “To keep wa—”

Ben kissed me softly, his fingertips brushing my jaw. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Let me make sure there’s nothing they need and then we can go.”

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek as he pressed his lips to my brow again and released me to speak with Vicrul and Poe. A flash of silver caught my eye and I turned to find Finn near, his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it?” I asked against my better judgement.

But rather than continue his days-long argument about how the Knights of Ren were monsters, Finn took a step closer, dropping his voice low. “You love him, don’t you?”

I blanched. Love. A word I had not spoken or heard for years and yet it did not prick my skin like falling into nettles. I swallowed, my attention flicking to where Ben and Poe unloaded only the essentials needed for tonight’s camp.

“And he you,” Finn added. My head jerked back in his direction and he shrugged. “I’m upset, not blind, sprout.”

Sprout. My eyes pricked at the nickname he’d been using for me since I was nothing more than a waif of a teenager. The corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded toward Ben.

“Who is he to you? Did you know he would come?”

I shook my head. “No, I did not know for a while who he was—not until he removed his helmet.”

My old friend frowned, running a hand over his hair. “Who is he, Rey?”

I’d rarely spoken of my dreams, even with Finn and Rose, but both had heard bits and pieces over the years. At a young age I’d learned not to share them after I’d been chattering about the boy I now knew as Ben to my mother in the marketplace of Jakku. We’d been cornered by one of the priestesses of Asling, the God of Dreams and Visions. I’d been quick to say I was joking, that it was a fantasy I’d concocted in my head to avoid being inducted against my will into their service.

“He is the one from the meadow,” I murmured and from the way Finn’s eyes widened, I could tell he remembered. Before he could respond, Poe wandered away and Ben tilted his head in question, palm outstretched in offering toward me.

I did not offer Finn anything else—not when I barely understood myself—but I knew I would not have been able to endure his questions and skepticism. Instead, I met Ben halfway, taking his hand as I had longed to almost every night of my life, and let him guide me out of the small camp toward the mountains in the distance.

We crested over the hill and I nearly gasped at the sight of the winding springs beneath, steam curling from the bright blue water. Ben grinned, guiding me down the slope to the bottom where he shrugged off our pack. Before our things touched the ground I ripped off my cloak, fumbling with the ties of my surcoat.

“Slow down, it’s not going anywhere,” he murmured, running a hand down my braid he’d redone last night and pulling the leather tie from the end.

I sighed as he gently ran his fingers through my hair until it waved to halfway down my back. “It has been days since I felt clean.”

He hummed in understanding, leaning down to press a kiss to the bare skin of my shoulder where my chemise hung off to one side. “Go on then.”

My stomach flipped but I did not look behind me after I’d leaned down to undo my boots and tug off my stockings. I waded slowly into the water, the thin fabric of the underdress immediately turning translucent in the warm water. A soft groan slipped through my lips, echoed in the winter air and I turned to find Ben standing on the edge of the springs, hair swirling around his face from the wind coming off the mountain. His knuckles bleached white from the grip on the hilt of his sword, his chest rising with heavy pants, but it was his eyes I could not look away from.

Eyes fixed on me.

I slowly dipped into the water, wetting my hair and the rest of my chemise before rising and reaching a hand out to him. “Join me, Ben.”

His throat bobbed with a swallow and without conscious thought, it seemed, he began to unhook the straps of his armor until they fell to the ground with a hollow clang. Ben fumbled with the fastenings of his gambeson next, practically tearing off the thick tunic so it met its fellows below. I licked my lips at the expanse of skin, wanting to trace his scars with my tongue, to feel his weight pressed against me.

When his hands fell to his trousers, I looked away, heat searing across my cheeks. I trailed my hands through the water, the burning sky overhead turning it a deep, fiery orange. Water splashed but I did not look, not until a calloused hand curled around my chin, turning my face up.

Ben’s mouth brushed against mine softly, reverently. His tongue dragged across the seam of my lips and I opened for him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss until my head spun. At once my body was alight, the hollow sensation in my core so maddening my eyes pricked with tears and I fisted his hair, pressing myself against him.

“You ache, don’t you sweetheart?” he murmured against my mouth.

I nodded, desperation fueling my movements as I all but climbed him, his grip falling to my hips. The sodden fabric of my chemise dragged against my heated skin as he lifted it—the water was high enough to hit my waist, but the sensation of the current skittering across my bare thighs and back was enough to make me whimper.

“Tell me,” Ben breathed, lips brushing mine.

The words came out as a whimper while his fingertips traced the curve of my hip, the slope of my waist. “I ache for you, I have been aching for you, Ben.”

A low rumble vibrated in his chest before he banded an arm around my back, fingers sliding beneath my wet hair to grip my nape as his other dragged between my thighs. The touch was gentle as the pad of his fingers brushed the seam of my heated sex. My hips bucked and a desperate moan slid through my teeth.

He shushed me softly, kissing the corner of my mouth, but I could feel his grin as I moaned again when he found the needy bundle of nerves. It was too much and yet not nearly enough, not until his fingers moved lower and he slid one into my entrance while the heel of his hand pressed against my clit.

“Oh, gods Ben.” My nails bit into his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured, teeth grazing my throat.

Over the years I’d found my own pleasure in those quiet moments where I’d been alone, but it had never once felt like this. This was what I imagined starlight felt like—flickering heat on the verge of cataclysmic explosion. And when Ben pressed another finger in with the first, the burning stretch made me tremble.

He gripped my hair tighter, tilting my head up and drawing back regard me with wonder. “So fucking beautiful.”

My eyes fluttered shut as pressure coiled tight in my belly, his name falling from my lips like the water dripping from my skin. His chuckle was soft as it skated across my cheeks. I cried out when he began to pump his fingers slowly, rhythmically, the heel of his hand continuing its maddening pressure against me until stars bloomed behind my lids.

“Eyes open,” he all but purred. “Let me see you, sweetheart. Need to see you when you fall apart around my fingers.”

I blinked and he rumbled his approval. But it was too much, my body clenched around his hand. His thumb stroked my nape, lips only a breadth away from mine.

“Let go, Rey. I have you.”

As if I had been waiting for his permission, I tipped over the edge, my body breaking apart into a million tiny pieces, the flame of need burning so bright I feared I would become blinded. His mouth covered mine, swallowing the sounds of my release as if it was the only sustenance he needed. I pressed myself closer, needing to feel him against me. His hand slipped from my body, curling around my waist as my legs wrapped around his hips.

The hot length of him pressed against my center. I shivered at the sensation, at the way it pulsed between my thighs, prolonging the pleasure. My chemise trailed in the water where it rucked up to my waist.

Ben cursed as I shifted my hips and he slid across my sex, the crown of his cock catching against my clit. “Not yet… Gods, when I take you, sweetheart, it will be in our bed, do you hear me?”

I nodded, panting as he glided against me again, his grip on my waist tightening until he was rocking me against him, using the pressure of our bodies to find his pleasure.

“Please, Ben,” I rasped, my legs tightening around his hips, the pressure returning with that all-encompassing ache. “I need to feel you, need to know you want this too.”

He growled, gazing down between us into the water where I could just make out the shadowy length of him as it slid up almost to my belly and back down again. When his gaze flicked up to mine, his eyes burned with the raging fire of his need. A flush crept across his cheeks, his pupils blown out until only a thin ring of green and brown remained.

I surged up, slotting my mouth over his as his hips stuttered. This time it was I who swallowed his moans as he tipped over the edge, taking me with him as heat bloomed between our bodies. And as we stilled and the water washed us clean, he pressed his brow to mine, cupping my face reverently in his wide hands.

“There is nothing I want more in this world than you, Rey,” he murmured.

Heat seared across the bridge of my nose. To be wanted was a dream I’d never dared to have, a dream akin to the ones we shared. And when he drew me tighter into his arms, I knew that there would be no coming back from this. The gods truly were awake and they had brought me to him.

Eventually, we made our way out of the springs. I couldn’t help but ogle Ben’s strong, long legs and round backside as he made his way to our pack, tugging out a dry chemise for me and a pair of trousers for him. Once he’d dressed, he helped me, relacing my kirtle and sliding my feet back into my boots, before brushing out my hair and braiding it.

But this time the vow was different as he kissed the finished plait, his eyes meeting mine as I turned to regard him:

“You will always be mine, in this life and the next, we will never be parted. Connected, two halves of the same soul. The night and the dark, the light and the flame, together always.”

I nodded, my whisper barely more than a rasp.

“The light and the flame.”

Chapter Text

I spent the rest of the night tucked beneath Ben’s arm as we gathered around the fire with the others and ate the small number of provisions we had left. The men appeared to be in good spirits—chatting excitedly of what they most looked forward to when they arrived home. More than a few times I caught Poe staring at Finn across the fire, brows pulled together in uncharacteristic contemplation.

“His favorite is honeyed wine,” I murmured under my breath.

Poe’s head swung in my direction and I grinned as he made a face of mock confusion. “And what would I need to know that for?”

I shrugged. “Consider it reconnaissance or whatever you’d like. I merely thought you would be interested to know.”

A blush crept over his olive cheeks, growing darker in the firelight. Poe hummed thoughtfully as he returned to his watch over Finn which I was almost positive had nothing to do with his allegiance to the Republic.

Ben stroked my arm from my other side. It was not abnormal for him to be quiet as we gathered around the fire with the men, but tonight he appeared even more pensive. Every so often a muscle feathered in his jaw and he’d swallow as if a lump had formed in his throat. I covered his knee with my hand, stroking the rough fabric where it stretched across the joint.

“Is it difficult for you to return home?”

He nodded, his attention slowly shifting from the fire to me. Warm knuckles traced the line of my cheekbone before he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “But this time, when I return, I will not feel as if my heart has been hollowed from my chest.”

My stomach swooped as he leaned in, brushing his lips across my cheek.

“I now carry it with me. I am bringing my heart home at last.”

Ben kissed me as if we were not surrounded by his men. But in the next breath a wolf whistle rent through the air, followed by cheers and claps. Heat seared across my cheeks as we parted.

“I suppose this is the end, hm?” Vicrul rasped from the other side of Ben.

The latter rolled his lips together. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

The end. Did that mean Ben would no longer lead the Knights of Ren now that he’d found me? The way Vicrul spoke made it sound as though that had been their goal all along, but that could not be right. The King of Alderaan was who held their leashes—they acted on his behalf. Suddenly my chest felt too tight as I remembered the true goal of this journey. Tomorrow I would meet King Organa and discover why he’d sent his men to find me.

Would he allow Ben and I to stay together or did he have another plan in mind? A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed. Suddenly Ben’s anxiety from moments ago seemed more ominous.

“Let’s get you to the tent, it will be an early start,” he said, rising and taking me with him.

As we settled inside, I drew myself tighter against him, wishing I could crawl into his skin so we could never be parted. Ben sighed heavily, running a palm down the back of my hair and over my betrothal braid. What would the King thing of such a thing? The idea of riding into Alderaan without it made me want to scream.

The thought of a life without Ben now did not seem like a life at all.

“There are things we must discuss before we get to Alderaan.” His voice was rough in the dark, as if he were on the edge of tears.

I shook my head, rising up to press my mouth to his. “Not yet, not now.”

He cupped my cheek, lips parting to speak again but I pressed my advantage, dipping my tongue into his mouth and coaxing out a soft moan from him. His hips rocked against mine and I parted my thighs, dragging him down until he was everywhere. Ben was the night and the dark, the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins, and I was not sure if I could survive without him.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned as his fabric covered cock found my center.

Tears pricked my eyes. “Please, Ben, please.”

What if we were separated the moment we arrived? What if this was the last night we could ever be together? His lips dragged across my jaw, finding the spot beneath my ear that made me melt. “Patience, my love.”

My love.

But I did not want to be patient. I reached for him, curling my fingers through the outline of his length, finding my confidence through the term of endearment he’d just used. Ben cursed under his breath as I stroked him, the front of his trousers growing damp until I pulled at the ties. I ran my fingers through the coarse smattering of hair down his navel, before wrapping my hand around his hot length.

“Gods, Rey,” he moaned, bucking into my hand.

He was big—too big, surely—and as I stroked him he only seemed to become larger, the shiny beads of desire flowing from the tip easing the way for my palm. It was instinct to give him this pleasure, as if I’d had this knowledge all along. I knew to twist my wrist at the crown, to tighten my fist as I returned to his base.

But before long he caught my wrist, stopping me with a groan. “Not yet.”

Embarrassment flooded every corner of my body until he pushed my skirts up to my waist. His dark eyes roved across my exposed skin where the tops of my stockings met my thighs before sliding higher to my sex. Ben dragged one thumb up the seam, the digit sliding embarrassingly easily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he rasped, pausing on my clit and working in soft, maddening circles. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”

Gods below, he was right. I could feel it sliding down my skin, especially as he continued his ministrations.

I whined and he made a soft shushing sound. “You need to stay quiet for me.”

Before I could ask why, he gripped my hips, lifting me higher off the ground as he bent. My fingers delved into his hair as he gave one, slow lick up my center, and I bit my tongue to hold back my scream.

He hummed and my toes curled. “I have never tasted anything as sweet as you.”

“Ben,” I moaned and his eyes flicked up to mine.

Plush lips closed around my clit, sucking softly. Lightning zipped up my spine, arcing out to my limbs. He shifted me, one arm wrapped around my waist while he pushed two fingers inside. The way was easier than it had been a few hours ago and I wondered if he, too, had similar instincts as I had. Merely a second later he curled his fingers, rubbing gently against my front wall and my back arched.

“Please, gods, Ben,” I babbled, gripping his hair tighter, rocking my hips.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my face, take the pleasure you’re due,” he praised.

I pushed my fist into my mouth to muffle my scream as he sucked again on my clit, his answering moan a vibration that sent me over the edge. There was nothing but him, nothing but this moment. And if this was my last, I would meet the gods happily. Never had I known such rightness, such peace as here in his arms.

Ben lowered me back to the furs, gripping his length roughly. I watched, slack jawed, as he pumped his hips into his fist, gaze fixed on my face. Only a heartbeat later warmth splashed across my thighs, his name a plea on his lips, and I moaned at the feel of his release across my sex.

He dragged his hand through the mess, pausing as if he were fighting with some instinct. But I did not fight the inclination, grabbing his wrist and guiding his fingers to push inside once more. The sigh he made was ragged as he watched his fingers disappear into my body along with his release.

His teeth strummed his lower lip. “I do not have the tonic to stop a child.”

“I do not care,” I answered as he gathered more up and pushed it inside.

Eventually he retrieved a small piece of linen from our pack and cleaned me with some of the water from the skin. All the panic had leeched from my body and my lids were too heavy as he settled behind me, pressing a kiss to my nape.

“In the morning, I will tell you everything,” he vowed.

And gods, I hoped it would not be the end of our story.

Chapter Text

Dawn came much too quickly.

It felt as though I’d just closed my eyes before Ben coaxed me awake. In heavy, clumsy movements I helped him re-roll the furs and take down the tent before he eventually guided me back to the fire. All of the men were already up, packing and readying the horses, including Finn who worked quietly alongside Poe.

Warmth bled across my back as Ben returned, tugging the leather tie from my hair. Panic skittered down my spine as he began to run his fingers through the elaborate braid. I reached back, catching his hand.

“Please, do not undo it.”

He paused, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “I will re-braid it, sweetheart, I promise. I merely assumed you would want to enter the city not with slept-on hair.”

Oh.

I nodded, turning back to the dying fire and knotting my fingers together in my lap as he worked. Each twist, each plait, felt like a log piled for a pyre. But the questions stuck in my throat.

What happens now?

What does the King want with me?

Where will you go?

“From my first breath to my last, I am and always will be yours,” Ben vowed, voice rough as he tied the leather strip around the end and kissed the braid as he always did. This time, though, the vow felt like a goodbye, especially as he circled around in front of me and crouched until we were eye level. “Listen to me, Rey, there are things I must tell you before—”

“Which horse, my lord?” Poe called from nearby.

Ben blew out a breath, his chin dropping to his chest before he looked up. “The white one.”

I frowned. “What is the horse for?”

Gloved hands smoothed down my skirt. “For you.”

A frisson of anxiety rattled out from my chest and my voice came out as barely more than a whisper. “I will not be riding with you?”

He shook his head and grabbed my hands, lifting them to kiss my palms. “It is better the people of Alderaan see you coming into the city as an equal, a princess, instead of a prisoner.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. What he said made sense—it had been easy to forget who I was for these last weeks in the woods. Out here we could merely be Rey and Ben, but the moment we passed through the city gates that life would be far behind us.

The first light of dawn streaked across the sky and Ben sighed again. “Before we go—”

“A message from the castle, m’lord,” Cardo called, stomping toward us with a small scroll raised.

Ben cursed, kissed my palm one more time, and pushed to his feet. My stomach turned itself into knots. A message from the castle. No doubt it was a message from King Organa himself. I rolled my lips together, worrying a thread on the cuff of my underdress.

“Come on, sprout,” Finn murmured.

My eyes pricked again as I looked up at him. I wished I could find the control I’d had in Coruscant—my emotions seemed to have no barriers any longer, especially as my old friend held out a hand and helped me to my feet. Poe fell into step beside us as we made our way over to the horses while Ben spoke in a low voice with Cardo. Another one of the knights, a quiet, slim man named Kuruk, mounted his horse and was off at once.

The white horse Poe guided over to me huffed and I patted her neck, running my fingers through her mane. I shook my head at his offered hand—unlike Ben’s stallion this creature was at least short enough I could get my foot into the stirrup and grip the pommel. When I mounted, the horse shook her head, turning back to sniff my boots.

I leaned down to rub her shoulder. “Be gentle with me, yeah?”

Finn chuckled. “It has been quite some time since you’ve been on a horse by yourself.”

Poe’s brows ticked up. “You did not ride often?”

“No,” I said, adjusting my skirts. “It was rare I left the castle at all.”

The men exchanged a loaded look that, after a moment, turned heated. I cleared my throat and Finn jumped while Poe grinned, turning to throw me a wink before mounting his Palamino. Ahead, Ben had settled on his stallion, helmet firmly in place, but as he turned to look over his shoulder I felt his eyes on me. And just as he had for years in the meadow, he held out a hand, gesturing for me to come.

“Well, Sir Storm, you are the official chaperone of the princess,” Poe beamed as Finn righted himself on his horse, no longer tethered to one another.

Finn huffed, donning his helmet. “I struggle to see the difference between prisoner and chaperone.”

Poe shrugged. “The food’s better.”

Another time I would have laughed, but I could only swallow back my nerves as I tapped my heels against my horse’s side. Finn followed close behind as I made my way through the men toward Ben. As soon as I was close, he clicked his tongue, and I hated that we were no longer riding together.

“How far is it to the castle?” Finn asked. From the way he left out the honorific, I was sure he was not addressing Ben.

“An hour’s ride, perhaps less,” Poe answered.

Ben’s shoulders bunched toward his ears as made our way through the mountain pass. We moved at too fast a pace to hold much of a conversation, but every so often I felt his attention on me, especially as we had to slow to a walk in order to traverse one of the smaller streams. My hands shook around my reigns, the knuckles red and angry from the cold, but I could barely feel it over the pounding of my heart and the birds that had taken flight in my chest.

When I’d heard others speak of Alderaan back in Coruscant, it was as if they were speaking of the underworld. My grandfather had called it no more than scorched earth—a hollow, putrid grave. So I’d imagined a place where nothing grew, with blackened fields and perpetual dark skies.

Alderaan was nothing of the sort.

The forest and mountains gave way to a thick field of wildflowers and grasses swaying in the breeze. I could not help but gape as we made our way through them, wishing Ben was close enough to touch. Even still, his name slipped through my lips before I could think better of it and I cursed his helmet as he turned his head.

“I know, sweetheart,” he rumbled.

Because the meadows of Alderaan were identical to the meadow of our dreams, complete with the thin stream winding its way beside our path. By the time the fields gave way to the first signs of the city, my heart was in my throat and I hoped I could blame the chill of the wind on my tears. I opened my mouth to ask Ben to stop, to beg him to allow us to turn back, but the words were lost in the riotous cry from those who spilled out of the small thatched roof cottages on our approach. Men, women, and children came running, waving and bowing deeply as if our party were conquering heroes.

Gods below, perhaps they were.

I’d prepared myself to be greeted with suspicion or fear, but these people did not bat an eye at me. They bowed even lower, a few children running beside us to offer a bundle of wildflowers. It was Ben who took the flowers, inspecting them first before handing them to me. His touch lingered for a heartbeat before the portcullis loomed overhead and dirt roads gave way to shining cobblestones.

The vibrancy of the city astonished me and when I glanced at Finn, he’d lifted his visor as if he could not believe his eyes. Unlike in Coruscant, I could see not a single person who appeared hungry or in need. In fact, those who lined the streets wore the kind of finery I did not often seen in the streets of the Republic. Guards and knights were interspersed throughout the crowd in armor so silver it appeared almost white, complete with white cloaks and adornments. I could not help but glance at the knights of Ren around me with their black armor and black cloaks.

Brightly colored ribbons streamed from the trees looming over the cobblestone road, interspersed with the buildings which grew closer together as we made our way up the winding path. I wondered if they were trees for the gods, the way they had been in Naboo, or if they served a different purpose. But all questions died as we turned and a bright, white spire came into view.

Poe gestured unnecessarily. “The spire there is the royal residence, but as we approach, you’ll be able to make out the smaller ones which make up the entire palace. We will enter through the south gate and you’ll be taken to your rooms to freshen up.”

“Will the King be meeting us?” I breathed.

I could just make out Poe’s frown before he turned to stare at Ben’s back. “No…not yet, it seems.”

Well…if the King was not meeting us then that meant I had a little more time with Ben. My shoulders relaxed a little as white marble spread out before us. I was surprised to see that though there was a gatehouse separating the palace from the city proper, residents easily passed through, chatting with the guards before they caught sight of us and all moved back to bow. Even the guards showed their reverence—something I hadn’t anticipated. I’d assumed the Knights of Ren were renegades, perhaps outliers within King Organa’s army.

Had I been wrong about everything?

A veritable sea of people flooded before us as we passed through the gate, all bowing so low some were even on their knees. Ben pulled his horse to a stop, dismounting quickly before moving to mine. My heart gave a nervous flutter as he helped me down and I waited a beat for him to remove his mask. But he did not, he only crouched until I could just make out his eyes through the slits.

“No matter what happens now, you are mine, do you understand me?” His voice pitched low but I could just hear it beneath the cacophony of cries from the crowd welcoming us home.

I nodded, a haze filtering across my vision. He squeezed my hand once, before lifting my braid and bowing over it. My heart picked up speed, a few tears spilling out as I blinked furiously.

“Ben…wait.”

But he straightened as we were surrounded by courtiers and officials, a few slipping between us as a tall man with dark brown skin and gray threading through his temples bowed over my hand.

“Princess Palpatine, may the gods bless you,” the man said, his gold cloak catching in the sunlight. “Duke Calrissian at your service.”

I curtseyed, attempting to look around him to find Ben again. “And you, my lord.”

“May I present Gwen Phasma, your lady in service.” Duke Calrissian extended an arm toward a towering blonde woman in dark trousers and a tunic. The woman bowed instead of curtsied and I spied a short sword on her hip.

At my back, Finn moved closer, his hand resting on the pommel of his own weapon. But Duke Calrissian only beamed wider. “Ah yes, you must be Sir Storm, her escort. Welcome to the Kingdom of Alderaan, lad.”

Finn and I exchanged a confused glance before he bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I trust the journey was not too perilous?” the Duke asked, gesturing toward the royal residence.

My guard huffed a laugh. “One might say that.”

Gwen fell into step beside Finn while Duke Calrissian guided us toward the open double doors ahead. I paused, looking around one last time to find Ben or Poe.

“Is there something you need, my lady?” Gwen murmured.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Is B—Lord Ren not coming with us?”

A strange look passed her features. “No, my lady, he bade me to ensure you rest and recover for a bit before he sends for you to be delivered to the King.”

So it would be Ben who sent for me. Perhaps he would be the one to present me to the court as his betrothed. But his words from only minutes ago made no sense. He had spoken as if everything was about to change, as if after today, I might believe myself of no importance to him.

I tried with all my might to reach for the walls I’d built over the years, stuffing down my grief as I followed the Duke inside the opulent marble building.

“This is the back way, my lady,” he explained as we climbed a narrow, curling staircase. “I promise there is much more art than what you have seen so far.”

“Of course,” I murmured, falling into the role I’d been trained to play despite my skin itching with each breath I took.

Duke Calrissian guided me to a large arched door also made of white marble, pushing it open to reveal an overly large bedchamber complete with a four poster, sitting area, and hearth. It was finer than any room I’d ever stayed in, even in my grandfather’s castle. Yet I found I could not truly enjoy it, even as I dragged my fingertips across the plush pillow on one of the small couches.

“A bath has been drawn and is ready for you, my lady,” Gwen said.

The Duke paused in the doorway, bowing low. “This is where I will leave you then, Princess.”

I curtsied. “Thank you, my lord.”

He left in a swirl of gold brocade. Finn paused at the threshold, distrust clear in his expression as he observed Gwen. “I’ll be right here.”

The woman lifted her chin, eyes sparking. “I am sworn to protect her highness, Sir Storm. No harm will come to her.”

Exhaustion threaded through my bones as Finn took a step closer, now firmly gripping his sword. “I will believe that when I see it.”

I sighed and made my way to the bathing chamber Gwen indicated. If they were going to fight to the death, I’d prefer to at least not be culpable in whoever’s demise it was. But Gwen Phasma did not appear to rise to the bait, merely rolled her shoulders back and nodded.

“And see it you will,” she vowed.

The bathing chamber was just as fine as the rest of the rooms, with a deep stone tub set into the floor practically overflowing with fragrant water. I took a deep breath, then another, before realizing the scent in the room was that of the wildflowers in the meadow we’d passed. This room was filled with the scent of my dreams—the ones that I might now hold as nothing more than a heart aching memory.

“Do you need assistance, my lady?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you Gwen.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught her setting out a robe, a few piles of linen and bowls of what must have been salves and soaps. She pointed to each one in turn, explaining their contents before bowing low and leaving the room. The last thing I wanted to do was bathe, despite how woodsmoke and sweat clung to me—it would mean washing off Ben’s touch, the memory of his skin pressed against mine.

Yet I was meant to meet King Organa and it was too deeply ingrained in me to be as presentable as possible. So I lowered into the bath, scrubbing my skin clean even as tears rolled down my cheeks. But I did not touch my hair or the braid, knowing I would not be able to bear the realization that Ben would not be here to plait it again.

He will send for you, I reminded myself. Gwen had told me he would.

By the time I was clean the sun burned brightly overhead. I tugged the white robe over my shoulders and padded out of the bathing chamber carrying my clothes. Gwen and Finn stood guard on either side of the door as if trying to prove who was the better at standing.

“His Highness has sent proper garments for you, my lady.” Gwen disappeared for a moment into another room before reappearing laden with bright white and dark blue fabric draped over her arms.

She laid the apparel out on the bed and I could not help but touch the fine silk chemise before tracing the small circlet of gold. All this finery for me, a woman he had kidnapped from his enemy kingdom.

“Do you know what the king wants from me?” I whispered.

Gwen rocked back on her heels, shoulders stiff. “It is not my place to say, my lady.”

The noise that left me might have been a hum or a sob, but I nodded. “Will you assist me in dressing? Finn can keep watch outside.”

My guard grumbled but stomped toward the door. Gwen’s demeanor did not change, though her shoulders relaxed a little as she reached for the chemise. The Alderaanian fashion was more intricate than what I was used to with small metal adornments affixed to the shoulders and waist of the gown. The circlet of gold she settled in my hair seemed simple in comparison until she attached a swath of deep blue gossamer to the edges, covering my braid.

Next, she guided me over to a small stool in front of an ornate mirror, a few pots of paint and brushes laid out across the marble. With a painter’s precision she adorned my face as well, adding more than the usual lip stain and blush. The most obvious was the thin line of gold on the center of my lips and chin, running all the way down to my throat and chest where it disappeared beneath the gown.

I wanted to ask her what the significance of the gold was, but anxiety had its hand wrapped around my throat. There was barely enough air to keep my head from spinning as she stepped back to assess her work.

“Perfect.”

A knock sounded on the door and I shot to my feet. Ben was here, I knew it, and everything would be—

“Are you ready, my lady?” Duke Calrissian called.

I swallowed thickly and nodded at Gwen to open the door. The duke smiled widely as he took me in, arms outstretched as if we might embrace. “You look perfect.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The words barely made their way out but he either did not notice, or was kind enough not to comment.

“Well, let us not keep our sire waiting, hm? I’ve heard he has made quite the fuss this morning.” He winked as if this was something to be excited about.

Again, he led me down another winding staircase, Finn falling into step beside Gwen. I barely saw any of the residences, though perhaps there was not much to see from the way the duke continued to apologize for the sparse interior of the back halls and tunnels. It seemed they were keeping me hidden from the court at large, which I could understand as I must have been an enemy to these people despite how kindly I had been received.

Gwen moved ahead and tugged open a lacquered door, bowing a little as we made our way through and up another final set of stairs and into what looked like an antechamber. Thick blue and gold rugs covered the floors, muffling our footsteps as I was guided to one last door, this one gilded and so beautiful it looked more like a piece of art. But Duke Calrissian stopped me with a gentle touch of my arm.

“He has been waiting a long time for you,” he murmured softly. “Forgive him.”

My brows furrowed but before I could ask the door slid open. The sunlight blinded me as it streamed through the arched windows onto the white marble floors and I was ushered into the room. The walls were lined with courtiers, all turned to face me, bowing and curtseying low.

I curtsied as well as if my body had a mind of its own. But as I straightened and walked toward the curved golden arch ahead which I assumed was the dais, I searched the crowd for any sign of Ben. He had to be here—there was no way he would leave me to face this on my own. He’d said it himself: I am bringing my heart home at last.

But he was not here and I could not find a single face in the crowd I knew. My eyes pricked, then burned as I neared the other end. I lifted my chin, forcing down my grief and steeling myself before finally, I turned my attention toward the dais.

The first I saw was a familiar looking male standing on the first step, his unruly dark curls combed and smoothed against a dark gray doublet. Poe was nearly unrecognizable without his armor, but he bowed as our eyes met, his hand pressed over his heart. But if Poe was here then that meant…

“Rey…” a deep voice rasped. A voice I knew. A voice which lingered in my dreams. A voice that had seared itself upon my soul. And I tried to understand what I saw as I turned my head toward the sound.

Ben stood before the gilded throne dressed in a blue mantle so dark it was nearly black, the edges lined with gold filigree like the kind on my waist and shoulders. For a moment I was sure he was in the wrong place. Soon King Organa would appear and Ben would move to stand beside Poe. But then I caught sight of the circlet of gold in his hair, the look of confusion on his face slowly bled away as we regarded one another, regret and pain taking its place.

There is so much I need to tell you, Rey.

No matter what happens now, you are mine, do you understand me?

A mask slid over his features, one more impenetrable than the helmet he wore as Kylo Ren, and he lifted his chin a little higher, his hand outstretched to me but not in supplication.

“Welcome, Princess, to the Kingdom of Alderaan.”

My heart fractured in my chest as all the pieces came together and my knees gave out. I hoped all around us would believe it to be a princess giving her respect to a ruler.

As I knelt before Benjamin Organa, the King of Alderaan.

Chapter Text

I could barely see the floor through the haze across my eyes.

But I did see the tips of shining black boots appear right before the man I’d thought I’d known knelt in front of me. Whispers erupted from the crowd, but Ben paid them no attention as he covered my hands with his.

“This is not the way I wanted you to discover this,” he breathed so low I was sure no one else heard.

My throat clicked with a swallow. Weeks—we had been together for weeks and he had not said a word. But I knew I could not wrench my hands from his as much as I could not let loose the scream building in my chest.

There is so much I need to tell you, Rey.

This was what he’d meant. Ben was not just Kylo Ren, but also King Benjamin Organa of Alderaan—the very king who had declared war upon the Republic when I’d been eighteen. I realized he’d been right all those weeks ago in the woods when he’d told me there was so much I did not understand.

Alderaan was not scorched earth and Kylo Ren was not the rabid dog of the king.

He was the king.

Gloved fingertips traced my cheek, dragging through the tears. “Everyone out.”

Poe’s voice rung out through the room, mixing with Cardo and Vicrul’s and surprisingly Finn’s. “You heard him, out.”

They gave no explanation, but then again a king did not need to give one—he was the king. A cacophony of footsteps rung through my ears, but I kept my gaze fixed on the marble between Ben’s knees. His hand slipped to the back of my neck, thumb stroking across my pulse point.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmured once the sound had died out and I could sense we were alone.

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing if I looked at him I would see the man I’d fallen for—the one person in the universe I’d give my heart to. But behind my lids I saw his face regardless. All those nights with the flickering flames of the fire, as we’d stood in the hot spring, his eyes through the slits of his helmet as he’d healed me in the woods.

“I am so sorry.” Ben enunciated each word as if his lips had never formed them before and I knew how much they cost him. And it should have touched me but it did not.

“You lied to me,” I rasped.

His hand tightened on my neck. “No, Rey, I did not. I wanted to tell you so many times—tried to tell you.”

Of course he was right. Last night even he’d tried to tell me but I’d stopped him, panicked over what might happen when we stood before the King not knowing he was already in my arms. I tried to think how I would have felt if he’d pushed through last night—surprised, yes, but also relieved. Even this morning he’d almost said something, but I’d assumed it had been about me riding separately.

Gods, how wrong I’d been about everything.

“I should have tried harder,” he muttered. “This is my fault.”

Despite the hurt, my heart gave a hollow pang. “Why was I brought here?”

“You should not have been. I’d told Lando I’d send for you, but the old man has always done things his own way. I’m sure he assumed you knew and thought it was best to introduce you to court at once.”

I shook my head, fisting the front of the gown. “No, why was I brought here, to Alderaan. Why did you take me?”

Ben tipped my chin up and, finally, I blinked. Splotches of red painted his pale cheeks, wet with the tears falling from his eyes. But the corner of his mouth lifted and he stroked my face reverently.

“Because you are mine, Rey. You have been from the first moment I saw you all those years ago in the meadow of our dreams.” He turned his head and blew out a ragged breath. “I have been searching for you for years, trying to discover your identity. And when I was seventeen, my father finally allowed me to set an expedition to Jakku, the one region we had not yet looked.”

He shook his head and looked back at me and I wondered what he saw on my face. Ben had…searched for me?

“You were gone before I got there. But I saw you every night, skeletal and grief stricken—it drove me mad. And only six months later did we learn Sheev Palpatine had discovered his daughter’s child in the wilds of the desert. I didn’t know it was you, not until my mother and I visited Coruscant on a diplomatic mission to unite our kingdoms.”

My brows furrowed. I vaguely remembered the visit from the Queen of Alderaan though my grandfather had kept me from all proceedings as I was still new to my role in the kingdom. “But why did I not see you then?”

Ben laughed bitterly. “I saw you roaming the grounds with Finn from the window of the carriage right as we left for home. But I had been almost positive you were in the castle before then, despite not finding you.”

Grief bubbled up. So much lost time. And suddenly all the pieces fell together, how he’d immediately recognized Finn. It had not merely been the gods or my description that had stopped him. Ben had recognized Finn because he’d seen him before.

“That was almost ten years ago.”

He nodded. “I had every intention of coming back within the month to ask for your hand, but my father grew ill and…”

His voice died, another tear slipping from the corner as his gaze slid across the stones and over to one of the large portraits on the wall. It was a simple piece of a man and woman standing in front of a boy I knew all too well. They looked similar, Ben and his father, though there was a mischievousness in the man’s eyes Ben didn’t have. Even from the portrait I could see the kind of man who would…

Gods below.

The kind of man who would marry a queen in secret, consequences be damned.

“He died three months later and my mother followed not long after. For so long I scorned the healers who said she died of a broken heart but now after finding you, I think I finally understand.”

My anger fought with the need to be close to him, to assure him that I thought I understood too. But I also knew what it was like to lose your parents in one fell swoop. The hollowness and hopelessness that followed. I’d carried that burden with me for a decade and such a weight changed a person, made them a little rougher and, if they let it, a little crueler. I could see it had been the same for Ben. He had given into that cruelty, allowed it to turn him into the Kylo Ren all in the Republic feared.

“On my twentieth birthday I set off for Coruscant, intent on bringing you home. Your grandfather met with me not as Prince of Alderaan, but as King of Alderaan, and with a hostility I had not anticipated. He’d barely allowed me to get the words out.”

Horror washed over me. “Why did he refuse?”

Ben’s hands dropped from me to scrub a hand over his face. He sat back on his heels, shoulders heaving with a heavy breath. “You were already promised to another—one whose army rivaled Alderaan’s at the time and one who would bend a knee to him without question. I was foolish, I told him of the dreams, how the gods connected us and he laughed in my face.”

I understood now why my grandfather refused to speak of the gods, how any mere mention of them had him spitting. My marriage to Armitage Hux had been in his best interest, something I’d known all along but never could I have imagined he would have chosen it over this…over fate.

My knees ached against the ground but I could barely feel it over the ache in my heart.

“When I refused to leave without you, his men attacked me. I had not been prepared for such a thing and they’d removed all my weapons before I’d entered the throne room. I’d fought off four of his men before the fifth struck.” He traced the line of the scar across his face and huffed a bitter laugh. “By then Palpatine had left the room. Gods, he hadn’t even stayed to watch the job finished. One of his knights took pity on me and I was deposited back in my carriage. When I woke when we were well past Endor.”

My betrothal to Armitage had not been announced until a handful of years later, but still my mind reeled. He had been so close and yet so far. I remembered the night I’d seen his wound for the first time, the blood pouring down his face, his hand outstretched begging me to join him.

“I would have run with you,” I rasped.

Ben gathered me close, lips brushing my brow. “I know, sweetheart.”

Somewhere along the way I’d forgotten my anger and allowed him to tug me onto his lap, right there on the throne room floor. “You declared war on the Republic then, didn’t you?”

He hummed, palm slipping beneath the veil to trace my braid. “I did.”

Shock filtered through my bones until a buzzing filled my ears. It had not been a war for power or lands and King Organa had not been maddened by grief.

This war had been one for love.

“I had armor made in the antithesis of Alderaanian armor and fashioned myself after Marloweth, gathering my finest and most trusted warriors to retrieve you.”

My mind flew back to the night in Naboo after he’d threatened the owner of the tavern. You are either predator or prey, he had said. I will not apologize for becoming who I am in order to protect those I love. And then only last night when Vicrul had confirmed with him that this was the end. Because they had achieved their goal.

“You became Kylo Ren…for me.”

Ben’s grip tightened around my waist and he pressed his lips to my hair, the answer whispered roughly:

“Yes, I did.”