Reflections
In which Rey starts to fall and Hux gets an inkling that he might be in deep doo-doo.
He dreamt of Snoke. Kylo’s one-time master held Rey suspended with the Force as he tortured her. As he tortured them both—Kylo compelled to feign indifference as she screamed, her head thrown back, every muscle in her body rigid, her mouth stretched open in agony.
Death, Kylo thought, kneeling on the black floor. Everything else he stuffed down, closed off, wrapped tight in the single thought. Death, death, death…
He jerked and woke. Sweat was cold on his neck and face. His breath came in gasps. In his arms, Rey twitched and whimpered. Her dream, then. Or both of theirs.
All the hate and rage he’d swallowed during those terrible minutes in Snoke’s throne room boiled up, choking him. He shook with the need to kill, maim, destroy. But Rey was here, still locked in nightmare. He wanted to go into her dream, destroy Snoke the way he deserved to be destroyed—slowly, piece by excruciating piece. Make it last days.
No. No. Not after what she’d seen yesterday.
He stroked her hair. “Rey. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
She gave a cry and her eyes flew open.
“It’s all right,” Kylo murmured. “He’s dead. We killed him. He’ll never hurt us again.”
She just panted as he stroked her hair. Slowly, the tension drained out of her.
“I never had nightmares about that,” she finally said.
“Because of what you saw yesterday. What we talked about.”
She let out a breath and closed her eyes again, letting him soothe her.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his gut twisting. “He touched you,” he gritted out. “He dared. I should’ve killed him then. But he was watching. I could feel him watching, waiting for me to do something. I knew how strong you are. I had to wait, or he’d just kill you to punish me.”
She turned in his arms. “I thought you were going to kill me when he told you to, Kylo. I really did.”
“I know,” he said bitterly. “After that, why wouldn’t you?”
She was quiet a while, watching him, though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“It made him think you were going to kill me, too, didn’t it? After you—after he…what he did to me.”
“Yes.” He snipped the word short.
Again, she didn’t say anything, though she didn’t pull away. He didn’t know why not.
She sighed. “It was my own fault, going to the Supremacy like that.” In a smaller voice, she said, “I didn’t know how bad he was.”
“You had no way of knowing.”
She shook her head. “When I showed up in that coffin of an escape pod—you must’ve thought I was crazy.”
Kylo gave a huff. “I was thinking fast and trying hard to stay calm. Snoke sensed you as easily as I did. There would’ve been no hiding you.”
She swallowed hard and lowered her gaze. “I guess not. I forced you into a scavenger’s choice in a bad situation, didn’t I?”
“Don’t, Rey,” he said sharply. “Without you, I’d never have killed him.”
He began stroking her again, to comfort himself as much as her. The silk of her hair, the softness of her cheek grew distracting. Her warm, sleepy scent sent aching heat to his groin.
He stopped, set his jaw and rolled out of bed, struggling to keep his breathing even. She raised herself on one elbow, eyeing him in surprise.
He bent to put his boots on. “Sword practice an hour after breakfast,” he said over his shoulder, pleased at the calmness of his voice.
He snagged his jacket off her clothes chest, bent down and scooped up the ball of grey-and black brindled fur that was the hassash. It opened one eye and warbled sleepily.
“I’ll see you in the training room,” he said on the way to the door.
“Kylo?”
He turned. She sat cross-legged in the blankets, her fingers kneading them.
“I wish it hadn’t happened that way,” she said. “But I don’t know what you could’ve done different.”
The gratitude that rolled over him almost overwhelmed him. His throat closed and his eyes stung. Bowing his head, he escaped before he could disgrace himself.
* * *
Rey never missed a meal. You never knew when—or if—the next one was coming. But breakfast…well, she knew there was something sweet, maybe fruit, and something chewy that might’ve been bread. Beyond that, she only mechanically chewed and swallowed whatever-it-was on her plate.
The pain and terror and helplessness of those endless minutes with Snoke kept trying to come back: the way he’d dragged her across the room with the Force. The press of his claws on her cheek, the grip that felt like it could crush her jaw. The smell of his breath, not really foul, but alien and evil.
She pushed it all away. She hadn’t let herself think about any of it—it didn’t help to dwell on painful things. They only froze you up and dragged you down. You just had to keep moving, get past them. She was still alive. They both were. That was what mattered.
Kylo’s voice came back to her: He touched you. He dared. The way he’d said it, the disgust and fury that churned through him—it rocked her.
She felt again his big hand stroking her hair. Replaying his voice by her ear, her stomach fluttered pleasantly. The way she’d felt this morning, waking to him comforting her…so protected and safe and warm, inside and out.
She’d never felt like that in her life. Never. After everything yesterday, it didn’t make any sense that she would—that she could. She thought about it, trying to puzzle it out.
She’d seen so many terrible things in her life. She knew how people could kill, hurt and betray each other. She’d seen it. She’d experienced it. She’d heard people laugh about the things they’d done, brag about them, dismiss and deny and justify them. It was why she’d never trusted anyone enough to let them get close.
Kylo had done terrible things, too. But the difference was, he knew what he’d done was terrible.
And…he hated himself for it. That was what she’d felt while she was immersed in his darkness. It was what lay behind the towering, terrifying rages she’d glimpsed while in his mind. How strange that something so painful was what let her trust him.
The jarring buzz of the door alert came. Rey jumped. She’d never get used to it. She opened the door and TO-99 whirred in, opened her clothes chest and set out training clothes. The droid gathered up yesterday’s clothes and the breakfast dishes.
Watching it, Rey shook her head in disbelief. She had a droid servant.
Me. A scavenger, she thought.
“Thank you,” she called as it whirred back out again.
“It was my pleasure, madam,” TO-99 said in its cool voice.
Kylo had beaten her to the training room this time. She stopped and watched as he went through forms, graceful and elegant despite his size. Her mouth went dry at the way his muscles moved under his skin. She’d been focused on staying alive when she’d fought both with and against him, so this was the first time she was really able to pay attention.
Lowering his practice blade, he finally turned to face her. There was a certain cautious surprise in his eyes that made her face heat.
“Choose a practice blade,” he said. “Then warm up.”
She went to the weapons rack, grateful for an excuse to turn away. Still, she was conscious of his approach as she tested blades. She chose one that felt good and turned.
“Let me see.” He took it from her and hefted it. “Too heavy. You’re used to your staff. You don’t want a heavy blade. It’ll slow you down and wear you out.” He leaned past her and replaced it. “Try another.”
She pushed down annoyance, reminding herself that he knew swords, she didn’t. She tested a couple more then handed her choice to him. He took it with better grace than she offered it.
“Better,” he said. “Try it and see.”
Kylo led her through a warmup routine, different than what she practiced on Jakku before the sun came up, while it was still cool. She wanted to shrug and do the one she was familiar with just because it felt a little insulting to have someone showing her something as basic as a warmup routine. But she could tell this one stretched and exercised different muscles (presumably those used when fighting with a lightsaber), so she watched and learned.
“That’s good.” He straightened. “Now watch. I’ll show you the forms.”
He slowly demonstrated positions.
“Start with the basic guard position.” He took the position, knees slightly bent, one foot behind, body turned to the side to present a smaller target.
Yes, different than fighting with a staff. She mimicked him. Remembering Luke’s mockery on the meditation stone on Ahch-To, it occurred to her that Kylo was a patient, non-condescending teacher. He didn’t learn that from Luke. He definitely wouldn’t have learned it from Snoke.
“Now bring your rear foot forward and your blade up. Stop,” he said when she’d done as he instructed.
He broke his own stance to move in front of her. With the tip of his blade, he tapped her ankles to adjust her stance. Nodding in satisfaction, he circled around behind her, grabbed her hips and shifted her weight forward.
Shock—and something much warmer—shot through her, coiling and gathering low in her belly. Her heart lurched faster, beating so hard she could feel it in her throat and lips. It was like every nerve in her body was concentrated on where his hands spanned her hips.
His right hand let go and moved to her right arm, slid from upper arm to elbow, adjusting the lift and position of her arm. A line of goosebumps rose where he’d touched. Rey was aware of him behind her, close enough she could feel the heat of his body.
“There.” His breath stirred her hair. “Can you feel that?”
She felt…she felt…
She felt like someone had ignited a fire in her and she was melting. Her knees wanted to wobble. It took every ounce of will to keep them straight. The effort sent a shiver through her that made the blade in her hand quiver.
Kylo stilled behind her. All except for his left hand where it still gripped her hip—his fingers spasmed once.
Rey strained against the urge to lean back into him. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then, “Why not?”
That soft, dark voice, so close to her ear. The subtle shift in his touch on her, no longer quite so firm.
She swallowed, willing her trembling to stop. “I— It just isn’t.”
“Tell me.”
Fire burst through her again—anger this time. She stepped forward, out of his grasp, spun to face him.
“That’s a bad habit of yours,” she snapped. “If I wanted to tell you something, I would.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I think it is.”
“You think wrong, then.” She turned and started for the door.
“Running away, Rey?” he taunted. “What are you afraid of?”
“I am not afraid.”
“You are. You’re afraid of me. Why?”
She spun, raising her blade. “I’ll show you how afraid I am of you.”
He stood in the same spot, his hands by his sides, his weapon thrust through his belt.
“Now you’re using aggression to mask your fear,” he said in that infuriatingly calm way of his. “It’s all right if you’re afraid. There’s nothing wrong with it. Accept your fear. Embrace it.”
“Embrace it,” she sneered. “Really.”
“Yes.”
She fought an overwhelming urge to go at him with the practice sword. He stood quietly, watching her with his dark gaze. Not taunting or challenging or pushing now, just waiting. She thought about it, then made herself examine what she was feeling.
She was afraid—not of him, but of herself. She didn’t like this…this betrayal. Her body was suddenly foreign, behaving in ways she didn’t understand, couldn’t control—it was trying to control her, make her do things she wouldn’t choose to do on her own. Like fall into his arms. Like maybe do more than fall into arms. Not that she didn’t want to, but she wanted to decide when she was ready.
Embarrassment started to creep in. He had to know through the bond exactly what she’d felt. But then it was probably stupid to be embarrassed, since he obviously felt the same thing.
His patience gradually became a challenge in itself: Can you face me without bolting? Without snarling and striking out?
She took a long, quiet breath, wet her lips and forced herself to walk back over to him.
“Okay,” she said and took the stance he’d been showing her. “Let’s try again.”
* * *
That first moment or two, Kylo hadn’t realized the arousal he felt wasn’t his own. He felt her tremble in his grasp, then realized—no, it was hers. He found himself quickly following, struggling not to show it before she whirled on him, all prickly self-protectiveness.
He often thought of her as a wild creature. He abruptly realized how accurate that was. Any threat, any hint of a threat, her response was either fight or flight, with little in between. Everything was about survival. If she was frightened, uncertain, caught by surprise, it would be one or the other—flight, if she thought she could get away, fight if she couldn’t. It explained many of her reactions to him.
He counted it a small victory that he’d been able to short-circuit her default response.
So, now they’d try again.
“I’ll need to touch you,” he warned.
Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, then her chin came up in familiar defiance. “Okay.” She pointed her blade at him. “Just don’t take advantage.”
He knew she meant it, but the fact that she’d address it at all was another good sign.
“No,” he said.
He took the guard position again beside her, watched her form and slowly led her into a parry, then into an attack. She copied him awkwardly, watching intently and adjusting herself to him.
Kylo felt her tapping into the bond and shut it off. “No. Let your mind and body learn this. We already know you can do it with the bond.”
She nodded, and they continued. He picked up the pace, one position flowing into another. She was sloppy, leaving plenty of openings, but she followed doggedly. He’d correct her form later.
He swung around to face her. “Now use the Force. Let it enhance your reflexes and strength.” He moved into an attack.
Blocking his blade, she panted a little, sweat shining on her forehead. “Why not just use it to push you away, or freeze you?”
Kylo shook his head. “You can only use it that way on non-Force-users.”
“Snoke used it on me. He jerked me all over that throne room.”
“He was extremely powerful, enough to overcome your defenses. Mine, too.”
“Are you sure? You’re a powerful Force-user.”
“So are you.”
She dismissed that with a jerk of her chin. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Her brows pulled together in a thoughtful frown. “Kylo… if he was so powerful, why did he keep…hurting you?”
“Pain gives strength—”
“You don’t damage your tools if you want to keep using them,” she interrupted. “It’s stupid. But that’s what he was doing. Why?”
That stopped him so hard he almost dropped his blade.
Straightening, she lowered her sword. “When I was little, the adults used me to get into places they couldn’t. Then I got bigger and they couldn’t use me that way anymore.”
Something stirred at the bottom of his mind at that, déjà vu or forgotten dream.
She was already going on. “What if you were like that to Snoke? He got you when you were young and tried to make you into his tool. You got older and stronger. Maybe by the time he realized it, you were too strong to kill. Or maybe he thought he could handle you until too late. So he had to do something else. He had to make sure you’d never find out how strong you really are.”
He just stared at her, the rightness of her words exploding through him. He knew Snoke had damaged him; first, when he was young, by planting and nurturing fear, resentment and insecurity. Then as he’d gotten older, mocking and belittling him endlessly, no effort of Kylo’s ever enough. For years, Snoke had been chipping away at him, undermining him, doing everything he could to weaken him. And the scavenger, who’d depended on her tools for survival, saw it with perfect clarity.
He huffed a breath. “Rey, I’m going to do something now. I don’t want you to bolt.”
“What?” she said, all wary wild thing again.
He stepped forward and calmly tugged the practice blade from her hand. Still tense and wary, she watched him.
He crushed her in his arms and lifted her off her feet. She gave a squeak and struggled, though not as hard as she might have.
“Thank you,” he said into her hair. “I never saw it. He never let me. As long as I remember, he trickled poison and pain and misery into me so I wouldn’t.”
Art by 01091006 – Rey and Kylo Ren
She stilled a moment, then gave an evil chuckle into his neck. “Then you dragged in your light-side scavenger and I bet he really peed his fancy gold robes.”
That surprised a laugh out of him. He found he couldn’t stop laughing. It was a strange feeling, alarming, almost frightening, but she was laughing too, convulsing in his arms, hers around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
Other impulses began to unfurl, hers, his—or both—he didn’t know. He quickly put her down but left his hand on her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw. He didn’t want to ruin this.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. Amazement and pleasure curled through the bond, as if she’d received a gift. What had pleased her so much? He was tempted to try to find out but didn’t want to see her retreat.
“You see the benefits to your lack of training?” he said. “You work on instinct and intuition. This is how people must’ve used the Force before knowledge hardened into dogma and religion. This is exactly why—” He swallowed the rest, remembering her reaction to his discovery of their supposed betrothal.
Why I wanted you to join me.
“Why…?” she prompted.
He could feel her surprise and mild suspicion. He never was one to mince words.
“Why we work so well together,” he said. “Me, with my training, you, with your freedom from any sort of indoctrination.”
He felt her sensing him, knowing it was a little different from what he’d meant to say, but not feeling untruth, either. He wouldn’t lie to her. He didn’t know if he even could, but he had no desire to find out.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll try it your way. Try using the Force against me. Let’s see what happens.”
Sword form practice quickly degenerated into a shoving match. It wasn’t particularly instructive, but watching Rey reduced to helpless laughter was worth it.
* * *
Hux read the strike force’s transmission relayed to his data pad over and over again: Mission concluded. Kylo Ren neutralized.
Pure pleasure washed over him, the first he’d felt since awakening in that damned bacta tank. The first since he’d arrested Ren on charges of treason, believing the might of his armies could hold and crush the man.
The cold, clean lines of the room around him, the presence of the white-jacketed officer before him faded. He imagined holding Ren’s head in his hands, what he’d do with it when he did. He’d have to restrain himself from damaging it excessively. It would be agreeable to have it around for some time to enjoy.
Oh, he’d certainly grow weary of it eventually, but until then, it would be a reminder to those who had any thought of defying him. If the mighty Kylo Ren had fallen to Supreme Leader Hux, who could possibly resist him?
Through his triumph and dizzy imaginings, he became aware of the Security Bureau attaché speaking.
“…one matter of concern, Supreme Leader. The Precursor has neither transmitted nor responded to hails since the transmission was received yesterday.”
Hux jerked his gaze up from the data pad. Horrors suddenly reeled through his mind. Kylo Ren capturing the ship, gathering a fleet, coming for him—
He raised the data pad with a shaking hand. “Is this—a lie?”
“We have no evidence that it is, Supreme Leader. After the strike force’s initial transmission from the planet, all protocols were observed—orders received, flight plans filed, casualties noted—”
“Casualties.” Hux broke in.
The attaché consulted his own data pad. “Four TIEs were lost in the attack, two in crossfire, one due to pilot error and one to apparent systems malfunction…”
The attaché was going on about stormtrooper casualties. Hux’s mind had stalled on the ships. Crossfire? Systems malfunctions? Pilot error? It had the stink of Ren’s sorcery.
“At what stage in the mission were the TIEs lost, lieutenant?” he interrupted.
The man tapped his data pad, studying it. “In the initial phases, Supreme Leader.”
Hux let out a breath. Ren’s sorcery, perhaps. But it had availed him nothing. Of course it hadn’t.
He nodded and lowered the data pad. “Keep me apprised. If you don’t hear from that ship—I want to know why.”
“Yes, Supreme Leader.” The attaché bowed and left him.
Vague dread twisted through his gut. I’ll have guards, he thought. Like Snoke’s, bound to him with mindless dedication, ready to die for him at the faintest hint of a threat. He imagined their accouterments, letting himself drift to consider colors for them. Not red. Gold, perhaps, gleaming and dazzling the way Phasma’s armor had—
Phasma had died on the Supremacy. So had Snoke’s guards. So had Snoke.
His shining imaginings shook and crumbled, shot through with the green bolts of plasma cannons. He felt the ghost of remembered pressure on his throat, a pressure that simply shut off air and the flow of blood to his brain.
Hux raised a hand to his throat and shuddered.
Image credit: Art by 01091006 – Rey and Kylo Ren
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