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sweetrevxnge · 7 months

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Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Twenty | Across the Stars

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

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Word count: 6.4k

Chapter-specific CW: NSFW, descriptions of drowning

A/N: yes, I took 6 months to update this. no, I don't have any good excuses. but if you're still here reading along, know that I appreciate you so, so much and am trying my best to write more often :') ALSO... since starting this story, Lucasfilm has officially stated that Luke's academy is located on Ossus, so I'm going to edit the story to match that!

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“Geegee, set course for Ilum.”

Ben’s voice echoed through the steel ship as you watched the Academy fade into the distance, lost in the green expanse of Ossus. You stood at the back of the ship’s hull, choosing to watch your departure from a narrow viewport rather than the cockpit.

“Right away, Master Solo,” said the droid, joints squeaking as it tottered to the cockpit.

As the roar of the ship’s engines lowered to a hum, unease crept in. While the thought of venturing into the galaxy to find a kyber crystal once filled you with excitement, it now made your stomach churn. It’s going to be okay, you told yourself, trying to make it true.

Leaving the safety of the New Republic’s surveillance was hard enough on its own, let alone voyaging to a foreign ice planet in the Unknown Regions. It wasn’t all bad, though. Knowing that Geegee automatically transmitted a signal back to the Academy provided you some comfort.

Behind you, you could hear the clicks and whirs of the control panel as Ben prepared the hyperdrive. You turned around, finding him hunched over the panel, muttering something about the motivator. Despite his frustration, he carried an air of confidence as he worked. Shoulders relaxed, hair pushed back from his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the first time you had flown with him in the Grimtaash.

The memory flashed in your mind when your eyes landed on the co-pilot’s seat—the same seat that cradled your bruised, bleeding body the night you escaped Zeffo. Just the thought of it was enough to make you doubt this entire journey.

Ben sat down in his chair, letting out an accomplished sigh as he rested his hands on his knees. With the coordinates entered and the drone of the engines steadily growing louder, you knew what was coming next.

“Everything alright over there?”

Ben’s voice snapped you from your trance. You let out a sharp breath, unaware that you had been holding it for the duration of your reverie.

“Princess?” he said louder this time, craning his neck to meet your gaze.

Whether it was your unconvincing nod or your failure to meet his gaze after his question that gave your apprehension away, you weren’t sure. Regardless, in a matter of seconds, he had jumped out of his chair and come to stand in front of you, hands clasped over yours in a firm—yet comforting—grip.

“Talk to me, princess.”

It came in pieces. The pounding in your temples, followed by the pungent taste of blood coating your tongue. But the memories weren’t strictly physical. Defeat and desperation replaced your climbing anxiety, polluting your senses with the stench of utter fear. All from just looking at a piece of furniture.

Just before you could unravel, Ben’s grip on you tightened, pulling you from your thoughts. It wasn’t until your name spilled over his lips, drenched with concern, that you pulled your gaze away from the co-pilot’s seat.

“I’m sorry, I can’t–”

“Stop it.”

You stiffened. “Stop what?”

“Saying sorry all the time,” he said with a tsk. “I’m going to start charging you five credits every time you do it.”

“Well, the joke’s on you then. I don’t have any credits,” you said dryly.

Ben cocked an eyebrow at you and, without him saying a single word, you gave in. Exhaling a long breath, your nerves settled.

“It’s just hard being in here again, even under the best circumstances.” Without realizing it, you found yourself squeezing his hands in return, holding onto him like a lifeline. “Not to mention what would happen if I were unable to find a kyber crystal. Master Skywalker would send me into exile and I would be forced to live a life veiled in shame and failure–”

“Okay, I get it,” he said, fighting back a laugh. “But that’s not going to happen. It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he said, releasing your hands as he sat down again. “Now, we need to make the jump to hyperspace, which is unfortunately something you need to be sitting for. It’ll just be a moment, okay?”

You nodded in understanding, moving to sit in the co-pilot’s chair. But before you could lower yourself into the seat, Ben’s hands locked onto your waist, spinning you around and pulling you to sit on his lap.

A gasp escaped your mouth, earning a deep, amused laugh from the pilot. You whipped your head around, shooting him a disapproving look.

“What? I didn’t specify where you had to sit,” he said, squeezing your hips lightly. His gentle touch eased your nerves, calming you in a matter of seconds.

“You’re an infuriating man, you know that?” you said with mock ridicule.

“So I’m told.” Dimples framed his smile, melting away any remaining concern. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost believe that his charm was more effective than any sedative a medical droid could offer. Almost.

Ben leaned forward, toggling a few more switches on the control panel. The feeling of his lips grazing the shell of your ear pulled you from your thoughts.

“Will you do me the honor?” he asked, weaving his fingers with yours as he guided your hand to the slender chrome lever in the center of the dashboard. The hyperdrive.

“Are you sure I’m qualified?” you asked.

With a peck on the cheek, he replied, “Absolutely.”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, causing your hands to tremble as you grabbed the rod. It was natural to be nervous about flying—especially when you were in the pilot’s seat. But the big arms wrapped around your torso assured you that you were safe.

As you pulled back on the lever, the engines roared in crescendo, launching the ship into hyperspace. The momentum pinned you against Ben, forcing you to grab onto the armrests for support. In the blink of an eye, the stars surrounding you transformed into blinding streaks of light before morphing into the swirling blue blur of deep space. To say it was exhilarating would be an understatement.

“Look at you,” Ben cooed, planting another kiss on your shoulder. “Before you know it, you’ll be piloting this thing all by yourself.”

You scoffed. “I seriously doubt that. I can barely operate a landspeeder without endangering myself and others.”

“Well, there’s only one way to get better, and I assure you, I’m a much better teacher than my uncle is.” Ben lowered his seat to a more comfortable position, pulling you back with him until you were resting against his chest.

“Is that so?” You couldn’t control your wandering hands as they crawled up the pleats of his robes, peeling back the fabric along his chest and neck.

He clasped your hands in his, holding them in place. “I mean it. After everything that happened, I want you to be comfortable piloting if you need to.”

There it was again, that horrible cloud that hung over your head at the mere mention of Zeffo. As if sensing this, Ben sighed and brought your fingers to his lips.

His warm breath spreading over your skin and his big, brown eyes peering up at you softened your resolve, leaving you no choice but to agree. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“I think you’ll find that I can be quite persuasive,” he said as he kissed the tender pads of your fingers, slowly working his way from pinky to thumb. He lingered on the last digit, dragging it over his plush lips. “Want me to show you?”

You nodded, mind turning hazy as you watched his lips, keenly aware of his other hand creeping under your tunic.

“Ben, we really shouldn’t,” you said halfheartedly, trying and failing to pull your hands free.

“Why not?”

“Because…” You drew the word out, motioning with your eyes to the empty hull of the ship. “This ship isn’t exactly private.”

He followed your gaze. “I see. Here, allow me to fix that.”

Without taking his attention off you, Ben flicked a switch on the control panel, causing the sliding door of the cockpit to close, hissing as it sealed you in.

“Better?” he asked, slipping his other hand under your robes, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind as he inched towards your bra.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you rolled your hips forward, pressing down on his growing desire. “Much.”

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Now, we need to address a different issue. You’re wearing too many clothes.” His wandering hands stopped at the clasp of your bra, undoing it in one swift motion. “Let’s fix that.”

Raising your arms over your head, you let him peel away the heavy cloth, kicking off your boots as he did the same with his robes. Arousal burned through you as you undressed in the small space, cursing the confines of the cockpit. Still in his uniform pants, Ben pulled you onto his lap again, eyes raking over your newly exposed skin like it was the first time he’d seen it.

All that remained now was your underwear, the only barrier between you and the rough cloth of his pants as you straddled his hips. “Why do I always end up more naked than you?”

“Shh…” A smirk ghosted his lips as strong hands moved to grab fistfuls of your ass, squeezing with a bruising force. “We wouldn’t want anyone overhearing us, would we?”

The heat simmering low in your belly quickly transformed into a wild flame, demanding attention. Lacing your fingers through his hair, you kissed down the curve of his neck, running along the taut muscles until you reached his collarbone.

“I can’t make any promises,” you said, teeth grazing his skin.

A low moan rumbled in his chest, vibrating on your lips. “Fuck,” he said under his breath, snaking a hand up your spine and doing the same to your hair. Tugging your head back, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “Then I’ll have to find another way to keep you quiet.”

With that, his grip loosened, fingers moving to trace over your jaw until his thumb slid over your bottom lip. “Open,” he ordered, trailing kisses down your chest, coming dangerously close to your breasts.

You obeyed, squirming in his lap from the anticipation, seeking any relief for the ache growing between your legs. As you parted your lips, he pushed his thumb into your mouth.

“Good. Now, suck.”

Head spinning with arousal, you swirled your tongue over his digit, earning a groan of approval from him. You stifled a gasp as he took a nipple into his mouth, alternating between sucking and rolling his tongue over it. Beneath you, you could feel his cock stiffening, causing your arousal to burn hotter.

Wanting to encourage this, you sucked harder, allowing your moans to rumble around his thumb. When his cock twitched against you, you beamed with pride.

A moment later, he released your nipple with a pop, free hand fumbling with the waistband of his pants. “I need to fuck you,” he said, practically begging as he worked his pants down.

Every nerve in your body was alight, needy for attention. He pulled his thumb away, watching in awe as a string of saliva fell from your lips before running it over the head of his cock. Pupils blown with lust, he wasted no time, dragging your underwear to the side and spreading your desire around your entrance.

With a grunt, he paused, searching your eyes. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, aligning yourself with him. “Please.”

You both let out a sigh as he pushed into you, lips clashing together. Before long, you relaxed around him, sinking your hips lower, relishing how he stretched you. He moved slowly at first, giving you control as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the headrest. Dark locks of hair fanned over his face, clinging to the beads of sweat forming on his skin.

True to his word, he kept quiet, concealing his groans of pleasure as heavy breaths. The same couldn’t be said for you, who was letting out wanton moans with every thrust. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though. The desire coursing through you had addled your mind, leaving you unable to control yourself.

A particularly loud gasp caught Ben’s attention, causing him to slow his movements. “Careful, princess.”

Nails digging into the armrests, you held back another moan. “Sorry—I just can’t—help it.”

“I know you can’t.” The corners of his lips twitched and before you knew it, his thumb was seeking entrance to your mouth again. “Now, be a good girl for me and stay quiet.”

Running your tongue over his thumb, you welcomed him in again, heat rushing to your core as you sucked. Ben’s breaths grew erratic as he continued to fuck into you, eyes trained on your lips. He effectively silenced you, but the few moans that managed to escape were now muffled by his thumb instead.

“That’s my girl,” he said, sliding his finger free and dropping it to your aching clit. “I think you deserve a reward.”

“Don’t tease, Ben,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly applied pressure.

“Didn’t plan on it,” he said, drawing tight circles around your bud.

The sensation was enough to drive you insane, hips rolling involuntarily against his hand, demanding more. Insatiable as ever, you pleaded for him to go faster, earning his cooperation.

“Fuck—baby—you look so good riding me.” His words were broken by quick breaths, evidence of his mounting pleasure. Your thighs burned from straddling his, trembling as your own pleasure threatened to wash over you. Every second you spent teetering on the edge felt torturous, stretching for eternity.

Desperate for release, you rolled your hips harder, forcing more pressure from Ben’s hand. A string of expletives fell from your lips as your resolve shattered, allowing the ecstasy bubbling beneath the surface to flood in. You bit down on the back of your hand, lost in the waves of euphoria that rippled through your body, your cunt pulsing around his cock.

With one last thrust, Ben gripped you tight, pulling you against his chest and burying his face into your neck. He littered your skin with sloppy kisses as he regained his composure, slowly leaning back into the seat.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his as your fingers traced over his rattling chest.

He let out a long sigh through his nose before agreeing. “Me too.”

Time passed like the stars swirling around you, and before long, the Grimtaash snapped out of hyperspace, revealing the ice planet of Ilum before you.

With a striking, silvery atmosphere, and patches of white storms riddling its surface, Ilum was truly a sight to behold. Unlike Dantooine and Ossus, there was no distinction between the terrains, only a vast, pale landscape.

“You weren’t lying about the snow,” you said, standing from your seat to get a better look.

“That’s what the coats are for,” Ben replied with a wink before calling back to the hull of the ship. “Geegee, prepare the landing sequence.”

The two of you had traded your robes for thermals and jackets in anticipation of landing, but despite the layers, a chill traveled down your spine. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was from the planet’s atmosphere radiating through the ship, but you knew what caused it. The prospect of adventure, traversing the unknown with the person you love by your side.

The realization felt like a blow to your chest, upsetting your balance as you reclaimed your seat. A string of beeps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. Master Skywalker’s astromech had come out of rest mode, now serving as a well-timed distraction.

Ben laughed under his breath. “No, Artoo. Your wheels will freeze to the ground if you go with us.”

The droid fired back, warbling as he rocked side to side on his wheels in defiance.

“You know I’m right! We can’t just sit around all day waiting for you to defrost.”

Another rebuttal from the droid, one that made Ben’s mouth fall open. “Just… stay on the ship, okay?”

R2-D2 concluded his argument with another string of beeps before spinning his head and body around and leaving the cockpit.

The low hum of machinery permeated the silence as you sat back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest. You would’ve given anything to know what R2-D2 had said to get under Ben’s skin the way he did.

Ahead, the Grimtaash entered the planet’s atmosphere, causing the ship to lurch as it sliced through the storm clouds. The floor beneath you no longer felt solid as the turbulence rattled the ship like a leaf in the wind, dread stirring in your stomach.

“Hold on tight—it’s going to be a rough landing,” Ben said, hunched over the control panel as he completed the landing sequence.

“Yeah, I gathered that!”

With knuckles blanched around the armrests, you squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the chaos to settle. When the ship finally touched the ground, you relaxed, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Running a hand through his glossy black hair, Ben smiled at you. “Welcome to Ilum.”

All the furs and thermals in the galaxy couldn’t have prepared you for the cold of Ilum. It was visceral, threatening to turn every drop of blood in your body into crimson ice. White flurries engulfed you, blinding you to your surroundings. If it weren’t for his hand clutching yours, you’d hardly be able to make out where Ben stood.

“Lovely weather this time of year, isn’t it?” he joked, voice raised over the howling wind.

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when the chill spread through your teeth, prompting you to pull one of your many layers over your nose for coverage. “I didn’t think it was possible to be this cold.”

Shielding the snow from his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Once we get inside the caves, it won’t be so bad.”

From the depths of his coat pockets, he retrieved a small cylindrical device, struggling to activate it from the confines of his leather gloves. Finally, a blue digital map appeared in the center, displaying a system of caves and tunnels northeast of where you’d landed.

“There,” he said, his breaths strained from the weather. “The closest entrance is less than a kilometer away. Follow me.”

Wordlessly, you did as you were told, careful to step in Ben’s footprints to avoid sinking through the snow. The two of you were uncharacteristically quiet as you trekked through the tundra. You daydreamed about beams of sunlight, steaming cups of caf, and hot showers—just to name a few. More than just a coping mechanism for the intense cold, it also served as a distraction from the task awaiting you.

A natural opening in the crag served as your respite from the elements, inviting you to explore the labyrinth within. Despite being encased in frost and ice, the alcove felt warm, if only from the vapor of your breaths.

“So, where do we go from here?” you asked, voice hoarse from the wind.

“That’s kind of the problem,” Ben said, peeling off his wind-beaten jacket. “The Empire gutted this place, making it unstable in some areas. For now, we’ll follow the charted tunnels.”

“Why am I not surprised to hear that?” you grumbled, doing the same with your coat. It came as no surprise to learn that the Empire plundered the Jedi’s sacred planet, destroying the ancient temple housed in its caves as they did. Twisting the knife in the Jedi Order’s back.

“It’s what they did best. But that’s why we’re here,” he said, a smile tugging at his rosy lips. “To rebuild.”

To defend, you thought. Your heart sank at the idea of your efforts being in vain. What good would a fledgling Jedi Order be against a rising empire? If the old Order crumbled at the height of its power, Master Skywalker’s Order didn’t stand a chance.

You cleared your throat, pushing your thoughts aside and refocusing on the task at hand. “Right. Well, then. Where should we start?” you asked, glancing at the glowing holomap in his palm.

“That’s not my decision to make.” His eyes twinkled from the blue light of the map as he placed it in your hand.

As much as you wanted to reject it, you didn’t. He was right, after all. This was your journey; he was just here as support.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to hear any complaints if we get lost.”

He smiled down at you. “Sure thing, princess.”

You nodded, holding his gaze for a moment longer. It was impossible to ignore his frostbitten beauty. Tendrils of hair clung to his forehead, the result of melted frost and sweat. The cold highlighted his sharp features more than ever, coloring his cheeks and nose in a peachy hue. Under different circumstances, you’d be happy to help him warm up.

Heat rushed to your face as you refocused on the holomap. Now was not the time—and most certainly not the place.

You examined the details of the holomap, trying to make sense of the labyrinth of grainy blue pathways. The crack you’d slipped through was just one of many that led to the caverns within, like veins tracing back to a heart. From what you could tell, the path you were on eventually let out into a central chamber, which then branched out into a handful of different tunnels. It was as good a starting point as any, and with a deep breath, you set out.

Ben followed behind you as you navigated the tunnel, with only the occasional drop of water breaking the comfortable silence. Stalactites adorned the ceiling, each bearing a unique state of damage. Every inch of the slate walls shimmered with ice crystals, reflecting in all directions as the blue glow of the holomap passed by. Slivers of clouded sunlight squeezed through cracks in the cavern’s walls, illuminating your footpath.

“What was your first time here like?” you asked over your shoulder, studying the mining scars etched into the walls for any sign of kyber.

“Loud,” he said, sighing. “I mean, just imagine a dozen teenagers running around a place like this. It’s a miracle we didn’t drive Master Skywalker insane.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the image he painted. He, Tai, Hennix, and to your surprise, Voe came to mind, a decade younger than they were now, squealing as their feet slid across the patches of ice. And Master Skywalker, futilely trying to reign them in.

“Maybe that’s why he wasn’t keen on coming back,” you said with a scoff.

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

A beat passed before you asked, “How long did it take you to find your crystal?”

Another sigh. “I’ll tell you once you find yours.”

Where you had hoped his answer would provide you with some comfort, you were only left with doubt. What if you couldn’t find one today? Or tomorrow? Or at all?

“Of course you will,” you muttered, watching your position on the holomap as it gently pulsed, showing that you were approaching the end of the tunnel.

The cave ahead was larger than you’d expected. With a ceiling that blended with the hanging darkness, you would’ve thought you’d stumbled upon a rune crafted by ancient men. But the crags and formations embedded in the walls proved otherwise. Water trickled freely down the jagged mineral, echoing throughout the room and filling the space with a fresh fragrance—rather than that of stale air.

Veins of opaque, white crystal ran through the stone walls, and for a moment, you wondered if this was it. There was only one way to find out.

Carefully, you approached a thread, setting the holomap down on a patch of ice. With trembling hands, you peeled a glove off and brushed the surface. The cavern immediately siphoned the warmth from your fingers, turning them numb before you could determine if the ore was made of kyber.

Finally, you conceded. “I don’t feel anything,” you grumbled, working your hand back into the glove.

Ben came to stand behind you, chest pressed flush against your back as his hands slid down your hips. “That’s okay. It’s just quartzite ore.” His breath fanned over your ear. “You’re not the first person to mistake it for kyber, and you won’t be the last, either.”

You spun around, still locked in his embrace. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He smiled. “We’ve been looking for all of twenty minutes. Don’t give up yet, princess.”

Despite everything—the weight of the unknown, the frost forming within your lungs, the lingering doubts you held about leaving the protection of the Academy—you found yourself savoring this moment. Deep in the heart of Ilum’s caves, wrapped in Ben Solo’s arms, you were content.

The vision of Coruscant appeared in your mind. Of you and him on the balcony overlooking the crowded hyperlanes of the planet home to so much life that it had become life itself. A place where anyone could blend in. Or disappear.

You blinked, wiping away the dream. “What if I never find one?”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “I’d say that’s pretty unlikely. The Empire took what they could, but that doesn’t mean that they were thorough.”

“No. I mean…” You dropped your gaze, holding his hands on your waist. “What if we left now? Before I find a crystal, and before you undergo the Jedi Trials.”

At that, his face fell. “This is your fear talking. You’re not thinking rationally.”

“No, just… listen to me.” You guided yours and his hands over your heart, acutely aware of its relentless pace. “Is this our destiny? To steal moments under the cover of darkness? Away from the eyes of the galaxy?”

Ben was silent for a long moment, his honey eyes searching yours, full of conflict. “What if it is?”

Your breaths mingled, dancing to the tune of your heartbeats. His words told a different story than his heart—the heart you shared.

“I know you don’t believe that,” you said, running a thumb over his rosy cheeks. “So, what’s stopping you?”

He untangled himself from your grasp, raking his fingers through his hair as he paced the room. “I can’t just leave. The galaxy is on the brink of another war—the same war my family dedicated their lives to ending. I’ve spent the last thirteen years working to become a Jedi Knight, to protect the people of the galaxy from conflicts like this.” He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose, shaking his head lightly. “I’ve come too close to throw it all away now.”

He was right. The galaxy was in jeopardy, its future dependent on the New Republic’s ability to snuff out a fire before it became an inferno. War was likely, and when it came, you both needed to be there to serve the light. To serve justice.

You realized then just how polarized the two of you were. Ben, the son of a Skywalker, burdened with the weight of a legacy imposed upon him from birth. Hailing from a family that ensured he would follow the Jedi path, just as his uncle and grandfather had.

And you, the daughter of a traitor. With no one left to turn to. Whose family legacy was that of deceit and treason.

It was unfair to ask this of him; you knew that. But in the same breath, you couldn’t imagine continuing to live like this.

Before you could apologize, Ben’s hands seized your face, his lips crashing against yours. His kiss felt like a flame breathing oxygen, burning hot and powerful, rendering you senseless.

“But I can’t lose you, either,” he said, resting his forehead on yours. “You are the stars in my sky. Without you, I’d be lost in the dark.”

Your heart skipped at his confession, and yet, words eluded you. The three you’d long wanted to give voice to felt too constrictive. What you shared with him went beyond anything under the definition of love alone. It was so much more than that—a connection that tied you to one another. The Force itself granted you this insight when it bridged your minds, creating the bond you shared. To call it love would be a disservice.

“Then come with me,” you whispered, pulling away to look at him. “It doesn’t have to be today. Just someday. Tomorrow holds endless possibilities for us.”

He pursed his lips as he let out a long breath, leaving you in agonizing suspense as he prepared his answer. “Okay.”

Elated, you reached to cup his face, eager to return the kiss he’d given you moments ago. Except his hands stopped you before you could.

“But only after you’ve finished your training,” he added, hands gliding down your arms. “And when the galaxy doesn’t need our help.”

It was a fair compromise to make—no different from you asking him to leave his life behind. Most of all, it was a compromise you could live with.

“Promise?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I promise.” He breathed the words rather than whispered them, stoking the fire in your chest. Before you could, he closed the distance and kissed you again, more gently this time—perhaps than ever before. It was the manifestation of his word, and yours in return.

When he eventually pulled away, the ghost of his touch lingered, burning through your very soul. A vortex threatened to consume you, chipping away at your rationality, seeking to swallow you whole. But now was not the time. In this moment, you knew what you needed to do, and even if it required the strength of all the stars in the galaxy, you would do it.

You cleared your throat as you reached for the holomap, forcing yourself to be interested in anything other than tearing Ben’s clothes off. “It looks like this path here branches out into three smaller ones.” Using the dial on the base of the map, you magnified the projected image, looking to Ben for reassurance. “We’ll follow it through.”

He nodded. “Lead the way, captain.”

The two of you continued down the cavern’s narrow and winding passages for hours, only stopping when an unexpected gleam of light caught your eye. Out of the twelve times you’d hoped to find kyber, eight were quartzite, with the other four being shards of scrap metal left behind from the Empire’s demolitions. Each disappointment chipped away at your morale, feeding into your belief that you were unworthy of being a Jedi.

Ben must have recognized this as he suggested stopping for a break, digging through his pack for an energy ration. You came to stand beside him, dragging your feet across the ground as if they had turned into blocks of ice.

“Here,” he said, offering you the ration he’d fished out. “You need to eat. This will tie you over until we can get back to the ship.”

“At this rate, that could be days from now.” Your fingers had lost all dexterity as you tried to unwrap the ration, mouth beginning to water at the thought of food. “I just want to go home.”

As you took the first bite, your vision turned white, but only for a fraction of a second. It startled you, causing you to drop the chocolate-coated ration onto the icy floor.

“Hey! Careful with the Endorian cocoa. That stuff’s hard to come by nowadays,” Ben said as a deafening shriek pierced the silence of the caverns.

You twisted your neck, trying to identify where it originated, heart hammering against your ribs as you lifted a trembling finger to your lips.

Ben grabbed the crook of your arm, turning you to face him. “What are you doing?” His tone was stern, seemingly unfazed by the cry that still echoed through the caves.

You wrested your arm free, lowering your voice to below than a whisper. “Are you deaf? That noise—the scream. We’re not alone.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” His dark eyes were wide, suspicious. “And we are alone. If we weren’t, the holomap would pick up their heat signatures, too.”

You lowered your eyes to the map, finding only yours and Ben’s forms in shades of red and yellow. But before you could consider any logical explanations for the sound, another cry rang through the tunnel, this time coming from the unexplored end of the path. Shrouded in darkness, the path beckoned you, drawing you closer like a magnet. The voice was deep and distorted, yet familiar. You closed off your other senses, focusing only on the voice as it came to clarity. Someone—or something—was calling for you.

“Come to me…” it said, nearly clear enough to be mistaken for another person in the room. “My love.”

Your breath hitched and tears welled in your eyes, rolling down your cold cheeks and onto the exposed fur of your jacket. It was a voice you wouldn’t soon forget.

“M-mom?” you asked, like a child searching for comfort in the night.

Ben stiffened at the word. “Princess, there’s no one else here.” From the volume of his voice, you could tell he was wary. He must have thought you were in a hallucinatory state, and truthfully, you couldn’t blame him.

“I know, but I can hear her calling for me,” you said, voice cracking as you stepped towards her voice. “I have to follow it.”

“No, you don’t.” He reached for you again, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Maybe you caught something in the infirmary or–”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, pulling away. “I just… feel like this is something I need to do.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Ben insisted, trailing behind you. “I promised Master Skywalker that I would keep you safe, and I can’t do that if we’re separated.”

You ignored him, turning on your heels and reaching into the Force to guide you in the right direction.

Beyond the shadows was another frost-lined chamber, and as you entered, the world around you fell silent. No voices, no footsteps, no ambient drops of water. Only the sound of your breath.

Your boots squeaked on the icy ground as you shifted your weight, glancing back to find Ben. To your surprise—and horror—you found yourself entirely alone. Not only that, but the chamber itself had become something unrecognizable, with no exits and cramped walls.

Panic swelled in your chest and as it did, the ice beneath you gave way, plunging you into dark, freezing water.

You were numb in an instant. Struggling against the weight of your clothes and the fear consuming you, you tried to swim, limbs heavy as bricks as you willed them to move. Unable to process what had happened, your thoughts were overtaken by instinct.

Slowly, you pushed forward, following the only source of light spilling through the black water. With no end in sight, you wondered if you would even make it, lungs growing tight, burning more with each passing second.

The light was pure, preternaturally so, blinding you as you swam into its glow. You resisted the urge to draw a breath, knowing that doing so would only seal your fate. You couldn’t die like this, not now. Not after the promises you’d made in these caves.

As the light engulfed you, you thought of Ben. Where was he? Could he sense that you were on the verge of sinking into oblivion? Would he mourn you when he realized?

With that last question, you used what was left of your energy to call to the Force, pleading for its aid. It wasn’t long before its familiar warmth came to you, an invisible hand grabbing yours and guiding you to the surface.

As you approached the rippling plane of water, you could hear your name being called, dampened by the roar of blood rushing in your ears. It came again, louder this time, synchronous with your hand breaking through the water.

Cool air kissed your skin, welcoming you back to life. You thrashed at the surface, coughing up the water you’d taken in when you fell, nearly heaving from the force of it. As you opened your burning eyes, you found that the hand holding yours wasn’t invisible at all, but tangible, as real as your own.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” your mother said, lips unmoving as her words permeated the air. “You’re safe now.”

She looked ethereal, a backdrop of white light painting her like a vision of an angel. For a moment, you were sure that you’d arrived in the afterlife, reunited with your mother at long last. It wasn’t until her hand slipped away and yours hit the hard stone floor you realized you weren’t.

The brilliant light vanished along with her presence, leaving you blanketed in darkness. Desperate to escape the freezing water, you clawed at the jagged stone of the opening, mustering the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows. Your nails dug into your palms as you pushed yourself out of the water, crawling only a few inches before falling onto your back, muscles screaming. The layers of wet clothing clung to your skin, sending a violent chill through your bones, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was your breathing, the sweet sting of air filling your lungs.

The Force lingered around you as you lay there, fists slowly unfurling as the adrenaline waned. As your fingers relaxed, something rolled out of your palm, hitting the wet stone with a soft clink.

Your eyes shot open at the sound. Scrambling to sit up, you searched for the object in the dim light, but it didn’t take you long.

Beside you was a glowing crystal, pulsing with a heartbeat of its own and humming a soft melody attuned to your ears. You blinked in disbelief as you reached for it, tears blurring your vision.

A blue heart of kyber, calling to you.

#jedi: fall order fanfiction if you squint #I love these two idiots so much I can't to break their hearts #ben solo #ben solo x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #ben solo x fem!reader #ben solo x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars self insert #kylo ren smut #ben solo smut #my writing

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sweetrevxnge · 10 months

Text

Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Six

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter-specific CW: thoughts of death, violence, kylo ren is Not Nice

A/N: did I take 5 months to write this chapter? maybe. is my night shift schedule frying my brain to a crisp? absolutely. anyways... I'm sorry for taking so long to update. you guys are real ones for sticking around ❤︎

───────── ❅ 🦇 ❅ ─────────

Nothing could help you sleep that night. Not reading, nor wine. At one point, you had even resorted to counting the tiny, silver quatrefoils embroidered on the canopy of your bed. But all your efforts were in vain. Nothing could make you forget Commander Ren’s visit, much less the inexplicable desire for his presence that lingered.

He was manipulating you, you told yourself, admonishing your foolish body for bending to his will. This is exactly what he wants.

As the first signs of daylight bled through the small window in your chambers, your eyelids grew heavier, each blink slower than the last. This was what you needed. Sleep would bring clarity, relief.

But fate wouldn’t allow it.

Perched on the stone ledge of your window was a jet-black crow, one that had evidently lost interest in preening its feathers and instead taken to jabbing its beak into the glass. It screeched as it chipped away the layer of frost that had formed on the window panes.

You buried your face in your pillow, tempted to let out a scream of your own. Had you done something to upset the gods? Was this their way of punishing you for your perverse desire? If it was, you would never so much as look in Commander Ren’s direction if it meant you could be absolved.

The crow continued, and just when you thought your head would explode, you shot up from the bed and hurled your pillow at the window with all your might.

The sack of feathers fell mere inches in front of it. In retaliation, the crow swiveled its head around, watching you with a beady eye as it let out a harrowing cry.

Irritating as it was, you couldn’t help but appreciate the irony. A creature so cold, so desperate, that it would try to find a way inside the castle by any means possible—even if it meant injuring itself in the process.

Feeling as if you were well on your way to madness, you stomped over to the discarded pillow and snatched it up, glaring at the wretched bird as you did.

Beyond the creature was a flurry of snow, heavy enough to block your view of the foliage that surrounded the fortress. In the rare instances when the sky was clear, it was difficult to make out the terrain below—let alone identify which province of Hosnian Prime it belonged to. Based on the unrelenting weather, you presumed somewhere in the Highlands to the west.

Not like the Resistance base. Nestled away in the lush valley of the southern coast, the base was a paradise—and the closest thing you had to a home. Winters never lasted more than a few months there, a luxury you took for granted. Even in the snow, its vibrant landscape always shone through.

You wondered how far General Organa was from you at this moment. Was she in the strategy chambers, working tirelessly to devise a plan to free you? Or perhaps she was already en route with a team of operatives, set to infiltrate the wedding. The warmth of your breath clung to the window as you pressed your forehead against it, praying to the gods that it was the latter.

Less than ten days from now, you would be forced to marry Commander Ren, and with no escape plan of your own, you couldn’t help but feel defeated. Would Leia arrive in time? Given the harsh winter, you had to consider the possibility that she wouldn't. In fact, you weren’t sure how any of the guests could attend in such weather. It would take weeks—months, even—for even the most durable carriages to reach the castle. If they could even navigate the snowy terrain, that is. At this rate, the ceremony would be attended solely by First Order personnel, and perhaps whatever wildlife resided in these woods.

With a final, ear-piercing screech, the crow flew away, and as it did, unease settled over you. Your vision tunneled as you stared through the window, mind racing as you tried to make sense of everything.

Stones filled your stomach at the realization. There would be no guests, nor an extravagant wedding in the grand hall. It was a ruse—a clever one, at that. With no witnesses to dispute their word, the First Order could fabricate and spread a false narrative throughout Hosnian Prime, all the while keeping you locked away from the public’s eyes, rotting away in their fortress.

Or worse.

You staggered back on your heels, leaning against your bedpost in the hopes of steadying your breath. Was this Ren’s plan all along? If so, why go through the trouble of housing and feeding you? Why bother healing you of your mortal wounds if you were living on borrowed time to begin with?

There was only one way to get answers to your questions.

With fists clenched at your sides, you marched toward the double doors and flung them open, finding yet another obstacle in your way.

Before you stood a man, clad head-to-toe in polished chrome armor. At the sound of the doors swinging open, he spun around to face you, his dark eyes piercing yours through the visor of his helmet.

“My gods,” you gasped, instinctively clutching your chest.

“Forgive me, my lady. I did not intend to frighten you,” he said, stumbling over his words. Though you couldn’t see his expression, his concern was palpable.

Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you folded your arms over your chest, covering the gauzy fabric of your chemise. “What is your business here?”

“I have been appointed to guard your chambers, my lady,” he stated, pushing his shoulders back with pride.

His answer hung over you like a black cloud. It was an expected response from Commander Ren, yet you couldn’t help but feel melancholic. Without unrestricted access to the castle at night, learning its layout would be far more difficult—if not impossible.

With every second that passed, your liberty was slipping through your fingers like melting snow, and you were powerless to stop it.

“I see.” You forced a wry smile, trying to ignore the dread roiling through you. “I suppose I should be honored that Commander Ren has deemed me worthy of protection.”

At the mention of Ren’s name, the guard scanned the corridor and stepped closer. When he was within arm’s reach, he pushed up the visor of his helmet and whispered, “It’s really just a formality, my lady. You won’t even know that I’m here.”

You couldn’t stop the eye-roll that followed his statement. “I can assure you, not a moment will pass where your presence goes unnoticed.”

The guard eased his grip on the hilt of the sword fastened to his hip, and for a fraction of a second, you wondered if you were deft enough to steal it. Even if you were, the chances of defeating a fully armored guard without drawing the attention of others were slim.

He leaned in closer, shielding his mouth like a child telling a secret. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s an unnecessary measure. A lieutenant in the Resistance’s army doesn’t need protection, least of all by me.”

Ah, yes. A warrior in her element—barefoot in a cotton nightgown tailored for a lady of the court. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I was a lieutenant,” you emphasized, clearing the humor from your voice. “Now, I’m not entirely sure what I am.”

He furrowed his brows. “My lady, with all due respect, you’re still a lieutenant. Commander Ren can’t take that away from you.”

Though his reassurance provided you with no comfort, you still appreciated the effort. His optimism was infectious, and had you not been on a mission to confront the aforementioned man, you might have enjoyed his company.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “As much as I’d love to discuss the status of my military ranking, I was actually on my way to speak with the Commander.”

With that, the guard stepped back to his post, his voice hardening. “I’m afraid you cannot see the Commander.” He seemed unfazed by your request, as if he were anticipating it.

“And why is that?”

A moment passed as he prepared his answer. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to recall a specific phrase that he had been instructed to recite.

Finally, he said, “Commander Ren is unavailable at the moment.”

“Oh, is he?” you asked, the question dripping with contempt. “Well, perhaps that would change if he were informed that his bride needed to speak with him—urgently.”

His throat knocked, but he remained calm. “You cannot–”

“Enough!” you snapped, pushing past him. “If you won’t bring me to him, then I’ll just have to find him myself.”

To your surprise, he didn’t try to stop you. Somehow, his passivity was more unsettling than not.

You spun on your heels, shooting him a bewildered look. “What? You’re just going to let me go?”

The guard cleared his throat, his eyes darting between the paintings along the walls to avoid your gaze. “It’s not as if you know where to find him, my lady.” His tone was teetering on humorous, which only fueled the rage bubbling beneath your skin.

“As if that matters! I would tear this godsforesaken castle apart stone by stone to find him—if only to tell him what a vile, sadistic monster he is!” Like a kettle releasing steam, your chest felt lighter after letting your true feelings be known.

The same could not be said for the guard, who looked as if he had just seen a ghost—or something far worse.

A cold sensation ran along your spine. With a terse exhale, you closed your eyes, hoping that when you opened them again, you would see a ghoul instead of what was indeed awaiting you.

“That won’t be necessary, my dear,” a familiar, smooth voice cooed behind you, sending another chill down your neck. “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Why, yes, I did.” With your shoulders pressed back and chin held high, you turned to face Commander Ren. Immediately, you wished you hadn’t.

Memories from the previous night flooded your mind, overpowering the rage that fueled you. The image of him sitting before you, relaxed by the hearth, bathing his porcelain skin in its golden light. How his chest slowly rose and fell as he listened to you speak, soaking in every word that fell from your lips. The way his long fingers raked over the velvet armrest, his gaze fixed on you as he traced circular patterns in the black material.

The mere thought of it all made your pulse quicken, each beat humming the melody of desire.

As alluring as he was, the aftermath of his visit couldn’t be forgotten so easily. How you had collapsed onto your bed, both your head and heart pounding as you covered your ears to drown out the voice echoing inside your skull. Your voice, barely intelligible over the thrum of blood rushing in your ears as it called out to you, warning you of his curse.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Well, this is certainly a sight to behold. I’m listening.”

“I’d prefer to speak with you in private, Commander,” you said with feigned civility.

Ren chuckled in response. “Of course you do. I wouldn’t expect you to discuss your true feelings in the presence of strangers.”

Blood boiled beneath your skin. It seemed as if the only reason he had to peer into your mind was to taunt you mercilessly. As if it weren’t enough to be his captive, his toy that he kept washed, fed, and dressed to his liking.

Before you could retaliate with a snide remark, he continued. “I see that you’ve met Ser Finn. I do hope that he will serve you well…” He paused, now tracking the guard with his gaze. “And Ser Finn, I sincerely hope that she does not cause too much trouble for you.”

You gritted your teeth. As if the ‘trouble’ you caused was not a direct result of your imprisonment under his discretion.

Outraged, you unfurled your hands at your sides and allowed impulse to drive your actions. Before rational thoughts could catch up to you, you reacted in the only way you knew how to. A way that could only be described as unladylike, if not suicidal.

The echo of your palm landing on Ren’s cheek seemed to ring for eternity, followed by a deafening silence.

The satisfaction you’d earned quickly faded when the gravity of what you had done fell on you. Even the air felt heavy, becoming difficult to breathe as you awaited his retaliation. Every second that passed seemed to stretch into an eon as he slowly lifted his fingers to his cheek, turning his dark eyes onto you.

Ser Finn stepped forward, breaking the tension. The rattle of the longsword sheathed on his hip served as an unfriendly reminder of your circumstances. You’d welcome a strike across your own face over any punishment that involved his weapon.

But the order for your head never came, nor did any retaliation from Ren. Instead, he let out a low laugh, equal parts surprised and amused.

“There’s that rebellious spirit,” he commended, gingerly tapping his cheek. “And to think that I’d come so close to vanquishing it once and for all last night.”

You scowled. “I’d hardly consider hypnosis a reliable method of earning compliance.”

A dismissive scoff was all you received in response. After a beat of uncomfortable silence passed, Ser Finn’s gentle voice floated toward you. “My lady, I think it’s best if you return to your chambers.”

“No.” Ren lifted a hand in opposition, causing every muscle in the guard’s body to tense. “Leave us.”

Confusion flashed across his face. “But Sir-”

“I’ll handle it from here,” Ren said, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Leave.”

The knight didn’t argue. Before long, the corridor was barren, save for the two of you standing in the center of it.

Alone with him now, your ferocity wavered, but you refused to let him subdue you so easily.

“It appears that you’re not as busy as Ser Finn suggested you were,” you said, maintaining a stony expression.

“I was,” he replied with a sigh, glancing around the corridor before returning to your gaze. “Now, as you can see, I am not.”

“And what exactly were you doing that was so important?”

A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Having breakfast.”

You frowned. “Do you find this amusing?”

“I find many things amusing,” he said earnestly. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

“You know what I mean.” You waved your hands around, motioning to the space surrounding you—as if doing so would support your point. “I mean, this. Imprisoning me under the guise of being your bride, when in reality, my life has been nothing more than leverage for the First Order to use in its pursuit of power.”

Ren was stoic, unbothered by your assertion. “Guise?”

“Yes, guise!” you snapped. “Isn’t it obvious? No one in their right mind would risk their life faring through the wind and snow to attend a wedding—certainly not with such little time to do so.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying?”

Despite standing at the precipice of the answers you sought, you couldn’t bring yourself to vocalize your suspicions. Perhaps it was a subconscious self-preservation effort, or maybe the inkling that hearing him say it would only breed paranoia, not closure.

“I think you know exactly what I’m implying, Commander,” you stated, unable to control how your voice trembled on his title.

“I do?” He dipped his chin, his glassy brown eyes searching your face. “Oh, I do.”

All you could do was control your breath as he stepped closer, leaving mere inches between you. You cursed your wretched heart for reacting the way it did, hammering against your ribs.

“My dear lieutenant,” he mused, fingertips grazing your jaw. “Your skepticism is touching, truly. But I’m afraid that our wedding is indeed legitimate, and you will be very much alive to partake.”

You huffed in response. Showing an ounce of emotion at his answer would only satisfy him, yet you couldn’t deny your frustration. For once, you thought you had the upper hand, finding a flaw in his plan. Or perhaps your disappointment stemmed from the knowledge that your soul wouldn’t know peace, only the enduring torment of this reality.

“I presume that is why you haven’t punished me for my acts of defiance,” you said, forcing a casual tone as you shoved your dark thoughts aside.

“That’s partially correct, yes,” he answered, his teeth a brilliant white as he smiled down at you. “But truthfully, it is because such decisions are not mine to make.”

It’s Supreme Leader Snoke’s, you thought.

The realization begged the question: how privy was the Supreme Leader to your actions? Most of all, what role did Ren have in your treatment? Given your disobedience, you found it hard to believe that an impartial Snoke would find it in his heart to treat you with a modicum of respect.

Despite everything he had done, there was some solace in knowing that Ren favored you—enough to withhold information from his superior.

“I see,” you said, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. “And here I was, believing that you were the one in control when, in reality, you’re nothing but a rabid cur tied to a lead.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, and for the first time since you’d known him, there was a crack in his façade. Just a splinter, but one you hoped to drive deeper.

Before you could say anything else, he slid his fingers along your jaw and pinched your chin, forcefully tipping it up to his eye line. Gooseflesh erupted across your skin at his icy touch.

“And so the pot calls the kettle black,” he growled.

Better judgment aside, you tore free from his grasp and staggered back, wincing as your spine collided with the harsh edge of a portrait frame. “Are you done tormenting me? Or must I continue enduring your presence?”

He sighed, straightening the oil painting behind you. “You’re free to do as you wish, but I didn’t just come here to speak with you. There’s something I want to show you.”

You knitted your brows as he stepped forward, offering you the bend of his elbow. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to exercise what little free will you possessed and return to the safety of your chambers. But you were no fool. To ignore his invitation would be another strike on your ledger, and after hitting him in his perfect face only minutes ago, you were in no position to decline.

As you moved to accept his arm, a cool draft fluttered through the thin material of your nightgown, highlighting how little you were wearing. “Am I allowed to change into something more appropriate this time?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest.

“I suppose so,” he said, glancing down at your figure as if he needed reminding of what you were wearing. “But make haste. I haven’t got all day.”

With that, you spun on your heels and darted into your chambers. As you searched your wardrobe for something practical, you gained a newfound appreciation for Rey’s work. As you sifted through the thick layers of velvet and fur, you came across a silky periwinkle gown and nearly ripped the hanger from its hook. While it wasn’t as efficient as your typical trousers and blouse, it would suffice.

Before stepping out of your chemise, you glanced at the oak doors behind you, ensuring that you were indeed completely alone. Though he wasn’t physically there, Commander Ren’s presence seemed to permeate through the oak doors.

With a grunt, you pulled the matching bodice over your head and worked it over your chest, contorting your arms as you attempted to tighten the lace along your spine. The corset alone was enough to tell you that this dress was designed with high ladies in mind, ones with an extra set of hands at their disposal. In the interest of time, you abandoned your efforts to properly lace it and tied the ribbon in a sloppy bow.

As you rejoined Ren in the hallway, he peered over his shoulder to look at you, a smile curling his lips. “Finally. I was beginning to worry that I would turn grey waiting for you.”

Resisting the urge to hit him again, you let out a curt exhale and pressed your shoulders back, feeling every bone sewn into the corset prod your ribs as you did. “Charming,” you said flatly.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied as he stalked closer, appraising your figure in the lilac gown. You averted your gaze, hoping to conceal the warmth that involuntarily rushed to your face.

“What was it that you wanted to show me?” you asked, shifting your weight impatiently. “I haven’t got all day.”

Ren only hummed in response, his eyes locked on the black corset wrapped around your waist. Silence engulfed the two of you as he came to a stop before you, fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers in thought.

“May I?” he asked, motioning to the bodice.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Pardon me?”

“Your corset—it’s uneven. Allow me to help.”

“I’m more than capable of fixing it myself, thank you very much,” you insisted, twisting to reach the end of the silk ribbons.

Upholding your assertion proved difficult, and after a moment of struggle, you surrendered.

“Fine,” you huffed, turning around in time to avoid the satisfied grin you knew would be on his face. “Just be quick.”

“As you wish,” he said softly, placing his hands on your waist to steady you.

Your breath hitched at the sensation, forcing you to clear your throat to cover the sound. His fingers created a map along your skin, moving slowly along your hips until they reached the mangled ribbons. Even through the thick material, his touch ignited your senses. You looked up at the mounted candelabra, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t his fingers brushing your spine as he adjusted the bodice.

The sound of his low voice pulled you from your thoughts. “There. That’s better, isn’t it?”

You turned back to face him, smoothing out the material where his hands had been, erasing their memory. “Yes,” you agreed with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

“Good. Now, come with me.” He offered you an outstretched hand, which you reluctantly accepted.

As he led you through the dim corridors, you were keen on taking in as much of the scenery as you could. Despite long, black curtains being a staple of the First Order’s decor, you noted the few pieces that distinguished the halls. For every corridor you ventured through, there were at least three sealed chambers, each with a distinct face preserved in oil beside it. You assumed that the paintings were a way of displaying the chamber’s residents, but after recognizing none of them, you realized that wasn’t the case.

While most of the portraits depicted shrewd men with upturned noses, there was one that stood out from the rest. He appeared to be younger than the others, no older than you were now, yet the embellishments adorning his uniform revealed that he held the rank of general. Bearing a responsibility of that magnitude at his age could explain his sunken blue eyes, as well as the solemn expression etched into his features.

But it was not his age, nor his rank, that caught your attention—it was the faded red insignia on his shoulder. It didn’t belong to the First Order, or even the Old Empire, but to the Grand Republic.

Before you could inquire about the general, Ren came to an abrupt halt at a set of plain iron doors. “We’re here.”

“I see that,” you muttered, squinting as you tried to make out any markings in the metal.

Ren unlatched and pushed the heavy doors open with ease, revealing a small antechamber and a narrow staircase descending into darkness.

Your indifference quickly transformed into dread as he beckoned you to follow.

Whatever lay beyond the stairs, you no longer cared to know. The staircase bore a striking similarity to the one leading away from the dungeons, and as you realized it, images of your squalid cell flashed through your mind. You froze, picturing another windowless cage, one that would not afford you the luxury of company—even of rodents.

Your eyes snapped to him. Had this been his intention from the beginning? Was he lying about Snoke’s control, stalling until he could punish you himself?

The feeling of his hand coming to rest on the small of your back pulled you from your panic. “I needn’t even listen to your thoughts. The look on your lovely face tells me everything I need to know.”

His remark cut through the deafening hum of blood rushing in your ears. “Then you’ll know that I’m not going down there. I want to go back to my chambers,” you pleaded, adding a soft “please” to improve your chances.

“My dear, it would take much more than a slap to the face for me to lock you away again,” he assured you. “Besides, I’ve grown far too fond of your company to do such a thing.”

“I cannot say the same,” you groaned.

“I hope to change that in time.” He stepped ever-so-slightly closer, his cool breath fanning over your strewn hair. “Until then, you’ll just have to take my word.”

The fear seizing your chest slowly dissolved, and this time, you were certain that Ren’s charm had no part in it.

Before long, you found yourself following his lead down the staircase. As much as you hated to admit it, there was something oddly comforting about his presence as the two of you ventured into the darkness. You wouldn’t necessarily call it trust, but the familiarity of him eased your apprehension.

Fresh candles lined the stone walls, a stark contrast to the rusted iron sconces they sat in, covered in a visible layer of dust. Maintained, but only to a certain degree.

“Do you care to tell me where you’re leading me?” you asked, reaching for the cobbled wall to steady yourself on the uneven steps.

“If I told you, it would ruin the surprise,” he replied coolly.

“Yes, but maybe I would be more open to trusting you if you did,” you huffed. “Is that a concept you’re familiar with? Earning trust rather than imposing it?”

He chuckled. “I don’t remember imposing my will upon you when I escorted you to the feast.” His steps slowed to a casual pace. “Tell me—how did you conclude that I, a complete stranger, was trustworthy enough to lead you away from the safety of your chambers?”

It wasn’t hard to deduce what answer he sought, and by the gods, you refused to give it to him. “If you recall, I hadn’t slept in weeks at that point. My judgment wasn’t as sharp as it is now.”

“Oh really? Is this the same judgment that informed your decision to hit me?”

Before you could volley a rebuttal, the two of you reached the bottom of the stairs, meeting yet another locked iron door. Only this one was much different from the other. It appeared archaic—as if it had been there for a millennium. Along its frame was a series of intricate locks, some more weathered than others. In the dim light, it was nearly impossible to track Ren’s movements as he disengaged each one.

Sweat beaded at the nape of your neck as the last mechanism slid out of place, allowing the heavy door to fall open with a dull thud.

Ice filled your veins at the sight before you. Inside was a grand chamber, with entrances to smaller rooms nestled in every shadowy corner. The scattered candles that lined the walls poured just enough light to allow you a view of the decor: a vast collection of weaponry. Never had you seen an arsenal of this size before. With bows, maces, axes, daggers, swords, and even a repurposed scythe, there were enough weapons to arm every citizen of Hosnian Prime twice over.

“My gods,” you whispered, shuddering at the realization. “You are going to kill me.”

“Nonsense,” he said, beckoning you to join him inside. “Come—allow me to give you a tour.”

You didn’t budge, planted firmly beyond the threshold of the entrance. A long moment passed as you glared at Ren, who didn’t bother to hide his amusement.

Finally, he clasped his hands behind his back and strolled away, just beyond your line of sight. “And here I thought my Resistance hero would relish the chance to train once again,” he lamented sardonically.

That was almost enough to entice you into the room. “You brought me here to…train?”

He appeared in your view again, inspecting the wall of longswords and shields opposite to you. “Well, I certainly didn’t bring you here to stand and gawk.”

Carefully, you stepped forward, taking in the enormity of the central chamber. The satin gown draping your frame suddenly felt unnatural as you approached an impressive set of throwing knives—your weapon of choice. While the ones the Resistance supplied you with lacked the jewel-encrusted handles of those displayed on the wall, they served the same purpose.

You couldn’t deny that you missed training. The rush of adrenaline, the sting of sweat in your eyes. Most of all, you missed the satisfaction of defeating your sparring partner. Nothing in this life could match it.

Yet, you didn’t understand why Ren would give you this opportunity. Certainly, his intentions were not as pure as he made them seem.

“Why?” you asked as you moved to inspect the polished blade of a longsword, running your finger along its edge. The bite of a blade was something you never thought you would miss, but as its bitter sting pierced your skin, you didn’t recoil. All you could do was stare in awe as a tiny, crimson droplet formed over the cut, like morning dew gathering on a rose petal.

“Why what?” he asked from afar.

“Why are you doing this?”

“To give you something other to do than sneak about the halls.” His voice was closer now, but you didn’t turn to face him. “And because, as much as you may not want to believe it, I don’t want you to be miserable here.”

You scoffed. “How thoughtful of you.”

The bead of blood continued to swell, now darker than rubies as it rolled down your finger. You waited in anticipation for the first drop to fall, but before it could, the sensation of an arm snaking around your waist pulled you from your reverie.

Startled, you moved to wipe the evidence away on your dress, but Ren was quicker. He snatched your wrist, his grip firm, yet gentle. You tensed at the contact of his cold skin, squeezing your eyes shut as he brought your hand to him, inspecting it with an unnerving intensity.

“You’re not supposed to grab it on the sharp end, my dear.” His voice was low—almost sensual—in your ear, sending a chill throughout your body.

“You think I don’t know that?” you grumbled, trying to wrench your hand free. “It’s only a nick. I was about to wipe it away.”

He craned his neck down to look at you, his dark eyes appearing black in the low light. “And what? Ruin a perfectly fine dress like this?”

“It’s not as if there’s a shortage of them,” you said, glancing at the glossy blue fabric. “But this one is quite nice. Do you have a handkerchief that I could bor–”

The question fell dead in the air as you looked at Ren, whose gaze was locked on the blood leaking from your finger. With every second that passed, his fingers tightened around your wrist, holding you in a vise grip. The sensation was reminiscent of how he’d grabbed your throat in rage, only this time, you were grateful your arm was the target.

“Commander,” you squeaked, acutely aware of your bloodied finger throbbing in time with your pulse. “Let me go.”

Snapping out of his trance, he released your wrist and let out a shuddering breath. “Forgive me,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “I’ve never been fond of blood.”

Nursing your wrist, you whispered, “I understand…”

But you didn’t. In fact, the only thing you understood was his volatility around blood—first in the dungeons and now here. While you had felt comfortable taunting him when iron bars separated you, you were not so brazen now.

A palpable tension hung in the air as he retrieved a folded cloth from his tunic and began blotting your saturated hand, his touch featherlight.

After a moment of silent cleaning, he broke the silence. “I do hope you’ll enjoy all that these chambers have to offer. In the company of either myself or Ser Finn, that is.”

Like a blanket covering a fire, your enthusiasm was swiftly smothered. Not because you would have to be accompanied, but because he would possibly be your escort.

“Do I have any say in the matter?” you asked, unable to hide your displeasure.

He ignored your question, his dark eyes flicking to your dress as he pressed his lips together in thought. “I’ll need to arrange for you to have the proper attire before you start. Not that I’d be surprised if you could brandish a sword in a gown like that.”

Truthfully, you could. After years of combat and training with the Resistance, you were certain that you could fight under the most unconventional of conditions.

“What kind of warrior would I be if I couldn’t?”

“Certainly an unworthy one.” He rolled his tongue over his teeth as he looked at you, lips parting as if he were going to add to his statement.

But nothing ever came. Instead, he turned on his heels and made for the exit, a silent command for you to follow.

With one last glance back at the training chamber, you trailed behind him, knuckles white around the jeweled dagger you’d lifted, concealed within the billowing sleeve of your gown.

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