2019 edits-Hey all! I'm just going through and breaking this up into chapters because reading through 20k is a pain in the ass.

I am taking a loooooooooooooot of liberties with Roman mythology here, but let's have some Roman themed fun. I've kind of always been fascinated by the culture and history of Rome, so let's combine that with another obsession (Star Wars, Reylo) and boom, we get this.


Kylo Ren had fucked up, and not his mother's private audience with the Emperor nor his father's fame could save him now. He'd been drunk, which wasn't so surprising. Kylo Ren was known for frequently drinking too much, which typically led to fucking too much. So it hadn't been much different from any other night, except for the fact that he'd gotten too drunk, forgotten who he'd been with, made the wrong patrician angry—a nobleman, favored by Emperor Hux—and with one wildly swung punch and a bad fall, the man had broken his neck.

Hux had jumped at the opportunity to eliminate Kylo in the ensuing scandal. What would have been a fine or exile with another emperor had ended up resulting in Kylo's death sentence. And Kylo had taken the blame for it all. His reputation preceded him, and he found that his friends disappeared, one by one, when the wrath of the Emperor was at stake. Once, Advisor Snoke had assured Kylo that he'd one day rule the Empire, but Hux had eliminated Snoke in a stunning power play that neither Kylo nor the ancient advisor had seen coming. Without Snoke, Kylo's star had fallen, and he'd become Hux's next target.

Kylo knew that Hux's hubris would be his undoing, but now, none of it mattered. He was going to die and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Hux would have his revenge against him, though Kylo thought that death brought on by a childhood rivalry was a bit extreme, but Hux was a harsh man and took slights against himself very personally. He would never forgive and he would never forget, and now Kylo was paying the ultimate price.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it. So much of his adult life had been spent in pursuit of his obsession—continuing the legacy of strength that his grandfather, the renowned General Vader, had begun. Kylo was quite singular in that pursuit, but still, his past haunted the present. He often found himself seeking out the familiar haunts of his youth, where he'd unsurprisingly get himself into trouble. This time, his mother wouldn't be able to save him from the consequences of a brawl, even if he'd never meant it to go so far.

You never mean for anything to go as far as it does... the shadow of his former self reminded him.

He tried to clamp down on that voice, the one that picked at him and told him he could change, that he could reform, if only he'd smother out that darkness within. But there was strength in darkness, in doing whatever it took to get what he wanted—what he was entitled to. It had been foreseen. Kylo was meant to rule and, with Snoke's help, he'd thought to one day have Rome itself. But his luck had run out.

The guards roughly dragged him along, digging their fingers into the wounds that lined his arms and torso. He wanted to yell at them that he would walk, that they should know better than to touch an Organa and a commander the way they did, but he knew it was no use. He'd have to bide his time and try for an escape en route to his execution, but he was half-starved from the week in Hux's prison and half-dead from the torture at the hands of his captors—what was he going to be able to do in defense of his life?

He tripped and the left guard—Royal Guard—kicked the back of his leg and grumbled for him to hurry the fuck up.

"Hurry to my death? I'm sure you can understand why I'm not really interested in getting there quickly," he replied, managing to get in some of the sass his mother had so desperately tried to train out of him. It never worked. She was just as bad as he, and his father had been even worse. Even when he tried to deny them, his parents would show themselves in the strangest places and times.

But father... A test. One of many to see what he'd be willing to sacrifice in the pursuit of greatness, his father had been a casualty of Kylo's devotion to Snoke's ultimate vision.

Regret. Regret. Regret.

And, in the end, none of it seemed to matter. Snoke was gone. Kylo would die. Hux would rule and the world would continue on without him. Kylo dipped his head back and stared up at the night sky. The stars shone down on him, cold and countless. He'd often dreamt of the stars and what it would be like to travel through the heavens, in the realm of gods. Perhaps it was his downfall—that he thought he was chosen by the gods to take his place as the head of Rome. Hubris, the very thing he accused Hux of. But he'd always been a fool.

"Don't I get one last turn through the brothels?" he joked on a cough as a flash of pain radiated through his chest—ribs hurt, probably broken. Soon, it wouldn't matter.

Nothing would.

He was sure that one of the guards was getting ready to give him a solid blow to the back of his head, but then the man stopped and both of the guards turned their attention towards something else—no, someone else.

A woman. Dressed in white and drowning in moonlight. She looked unreal as the light reflected off her robes, casting her in an unnatural glow. He'd seen her kind before, mostly at the Coliseum in their place of honor, but none of the other priestesses of Vesta had looked as glorious as her. Even the guards were affected as they both seemed to be unsure of what to do next.

"My lady..." one of the guards started to say, clearly at a loss for words.

The vision before them lifted her chin and stared down her nose at them, daring the guard to say more. He was silent and time slowed as the strange moment passed between them all. Kylo looked into her young face, and wise, ancient eyes stared back at him. She was power incarnate, and she had complete command of the situation. All at once, Kylo knew that he was coming face to face with his salvation, but she was more than that. Every part of him that was still good, that still retained some of that purity from his youth, called out to her, was pulled towards her, as she seemed to be towards him.

The Vestal Virgin squared her shoulders and stared at the two guards that held him captive before uttering the words that would change his life forever.


Rey wasn't supposed to be in this part of Rome by herself—she'd even managed to dodge her lictor, Finn, to take her journey alone.

He's going to be so upset with me... she thought. But there wasn't any time for that now.

She kept going, head down, the folds of her cape wrapped around her tightly. She hated this part of Rome. It was too close to the city walls and too far from her home in the Temple of Vesta, but a vision had awoken Rey from her slumber and haunted her with strange and terrible horrors. She knew there was a reason why the vision had sent her so close to the gates: there was a man she was meant to see—a man she was meant to save– but for what purpose, she did not know.

Won't be long now... she thought to herself.

Her heart thrummed against the cage of her chest as her sandals beat against the slick stone road. She had to find him. She was his only chance at survival—without her intercession, he'd be beheaded. As she rounded a dirty street corner, she finally found him.

The man would have been handsome had he not been covered in his own sweat and filth. Dark hair and eyes and a pale, sickly pallor. His dark robes, covered in muck, hung limply from his body. His head was bowed and the two ruddy guards flanking him all but dragged him along the dirty road, their faces reflecting the strain of pulling the noncompliant prisoner along. Rey wondered how long he had been kept in the cells, but it no longer mattered. He was the one she was meant to save, she could feel it in her very soul. Emperor Hux's personal guards escorted him, decked out in the deep reds and dark leather of the Royal Guard. What had this man done to receive the ire of Hux himself?

Straightening her back, she pulled herself up before commanding, "Halt."

The man coughed and let out a low groan as one of the guards got in a final jab to the man's side before facing her. His harsh expression faltered as he whispered, "My lady..."

"If you know me, then you know what this means," she said, her words calm and steady, completely at odds with how she felt.

"But this man... The Emperor wishes..." the guard paused, looking to his backup for confirmation.

She could see the conflict working its way through his mind. As a Vestal Virgin, she was accorded a great deal of power, but this sentence was a direct order from the Emperor. Fortunately for Rey, she was strong-willed and not about to back down because some guard didn't understand her rights as a priestess.

"Who is an emperor, if not one chosen by the Gods? I am chosen as well, as is this man. To deny the Gods their justice would be folly. You know this man is free from his crimes, free from death on this day. You will deliver him into my care."

Wait, what? That wasn't part of it at all, but somehow she needed to know this man. To see that he was safe before she let him leave her life once more.

"The Emperor must be informed," the second guard started.

"Then inform him after you've delivered this man into my care. My goddess has chosen to absolve him of his crimes."

What kind of world did she live in now that these guards were even considering going against the will of the Goddess? Once a Vestal Virgin absolved a man of his sins, he was free in the eyes of the Empire, but Hux seemed to believe otherwise if his guards were anything to judge by. Hux's influence grew day by day and Rey wondered when his desires would become a problem for herself and the other Vestal Virgins.

Hux has always had a fascination for your Order…

Shrugging off her fears, Rey cocked her chin towards the prisoner—Kylo Ren. She would have known him by reputation alone had the entire city not been made aware of his sentence. Once he'd been a celebrated and ruthless commander for Hux's legions, the strong arm behind the will of the Empire, but for him to have fallen so far out of favor…

Snoke.

The word coiled through her mind and around her heart. The advisor had been well-known before his death, and Rey knew that Hux would have never ascended to the throne without the man's conniving. Had he once had a similar hand in Kylo's life?

"You will follow me to the temple and deliver him into my keeping. This is not up for negotiation."

Rey thought she saw Kylo smirk, but it was hard to tell with the way his face was covered in blood and scrapes. A look passed between the guards as they decided that arguing with her would get them nowhere, so Rey led while they trailed behind, their prisoner barely managing to walk as she led them back to the temple.

I've gotten this far, Vesta. What would you have me do now?

But only silence answered her and Rey would have to wait to see what, if any, guidance the goddess provided.


An argument woke him from a deep, drug-addled sleep.

"This is pure foolishness, Rey. You know who he is. What he's done!" a man hissed.

"This is the will of my goddess, Finn! I live to serve her power. Without the force of her will guiding me, I'd be nothing. I have to trust her. Trust that this is right!"

He'd know that strong and determined voice anywhere—the priestess.

"Rey, I'm saying this, not only as your lictor but as your friend, don't do this," the man begged.

"I no longer need your services today, Finn. Thank you. I'll call on you later if I have need of you."

Kylo knew a dismissal when he heard one, and he could have sworn he felt as the other man tightened his shoulders before giving a curt nod and stalking off after murmuring, "Priestess."

Kylo smirked as his eyes finally cooperated and opened, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that would greet his eyes.

She was resplendent.

Her skin was a sun-kissed beige, dappled with freckles. The white of her robes made her look otherworldly. Her dark hair escaped her head covering, tips curling around her cheeks as she walked closer to where he lay. Kylo Ren didn't know what god was smiling on him to make her walk towards him while he made his death march, but he promised that as soon as he could, he'd make an offering at the temple of Jupiter, to Venus—to every bloody God in the Pantheon if needed– just to be sure he was covered.

"Kylo Ren," she murmured, and he'd have gone to his death a thousand times over just to hear her say those words again.

Kylo tried to speak, but his throat was tight and sore, probably from screaming under the torture he'd endured. The vision before him walked closer, though he'd somewhat expected her to float. Kylo was surprised to find that there was a quiet sort of strength in the way she moved—like she spent time training for battle. This woman was strong, inside and out, and he didn't know why, but that humanizing effect made the emotion choke in his throat, prompting another coughing fit.

Who is she? Why have I never seen her before?

If she was one of the Vestal Virgins, she would have been seated amongst the other priestesses, near the Emperor and his ilk on the podium, but he'd never seen her before. The priestess poured some water from a pitcher into a copper cup and slid silently onto a stool beside the bed.

"Drink," she commanded.

Kylo coughed as he choked some of the liquid down—it wasn't water.

"It's imbued with herbs—mallow specifically. It will help your throat and insides heal," she assured him, and he supposed it made sense. Why would she save him only to poison him later?

Still, he thought he might be fine with sacrificing himself to someone like her. Kylo gingerly flexed the muscles of his body and found that his wounds had been cleansed and bound, and his robes had been changed as well.

Coughing to clear his throat, Kylo asked, "Did you tend to my injuries, priestess?"

A blush colored her cheeks, which he found infinitely endearing.

"Yes, well, I couldn't let you lie in your own filth. The last thing I wanted was for your wounds to become more infected. A fever could kill you in this state, you realize? And I couldn't save you only to let you die from something preventable..."

He realized she was rambling. Given that she was a priestess, she'd likely never seen a male body up close like this. And his was quite male, he thought smugly, but he didn't want to upset his savior too much. Still…

"I realize. Tell me, priestess, how did you remove my robes all on your own?"

Though she was clearly strong, he was a large, well-muscled man. It would have taken more than one person to move him.

She scrunched her face a little before admitting, "I had help. My lictor. Who I swore to secrecy because you shouldn't be here," she admitted. "But I thought the goddess would make an exception considering it was her dream that woke me in the first place."

"Her dream?" Kylo asked, still distracted by her attractive blush. His mind wondered exactly how far that flush carried beneath her robes.

The priestess nodded. "I saw you. In my dreams. I knew I was meant to save you from your fate. Somehow our lives are entwined, Kylo Ren."

Kylo quirked an eyebrow. "Unfair advantage, priestess. You have the Gods and knowledge on your side. May I know the name of my savior?"

The priestess paused and considered before deciding, "Rhea, but I'm called Rey."

Named after the mother of Romulus and Remus, Rome's founding fathers. This woman has many connections to the gods, Kylo thought to himself. He found the name strangely fitting.

"How have I never seen you before?" he asked as his eyes trailed over her body.

The priestess cleared her throat, and this time he had the decency to blush. He hadn't meant any offense, but he really was confused—surely he'd remember someone like her.

"Perhaps I was beneath your notice," she offered, eyebrow raised, and he thought maybe that might be it.

Vestal Virgins were off limits, so he wouldn't have paid them more than a passing glance. What would a hedonist like him need with someone whose life was nothing but penance and purity? But he felt like she was hiding something. Perhaps she'd only recently come into her duties; didn't Vestal Virgins spent the first ten years of their vow training? He couldn't be sure, but it didn't much matter. She was here now. He'd seen her, and he wasn't about to forget a priestess like this.

"You've got more spirit than I imagined a Vestal Virgin would," he said before another coughing fit took over.

"Spend much time with Vestal Virgins, do you, Kylo Ren?" she countered as he calmed, but this time he couldn't resist the temptation to tease her.

"The women I spend time with, priestess, are about as far from virgin as one can get. Not that I let that bother me."

He'd expected her to be scandalized, but there was more fire inside this woman than he'd anticipated.

"And I'm sure they're grateful for your many previous conquests. What is a man if he cannot please a woman?"

The grin that spread across his face was predatory. "Tell me, priestess, what do you know of pleasure?"

She realized her mistake almost immediately, judging from the look on her face. She coughed into her hand as she stalled for time.

"I think this conversation has gotten completely off track and onto improper topics of discussion. Priestesses are no more concerned with pleasure than you are with propriety," she said, trying to shut down his snark.

"But you do wonder? It is fine to dream, priestess," he assured her even as she bristled.

"I do not need to be told what is and isn't..."

"But tell me, when you saw me in your dreams, what did you see? What was it that got this priestess out of her bed so late to save someone convicted of murder, no less? Hoping I could come and rescue you from a life of servitude and show you what I've been able to share with so many, many women before?"

He was all bravado, but she needn't know that. Having the upper hand was what had gotten him far in life—it was the position he was always grappling for. But it was strange. Usually, he was casually dismissive with both men and women alike, but there was something about this woman, this priestess, that triggered a long-forgotten desire within him.

So, of course, his natural response was to smother that inkling and push her as far away as possible. Heartache and longing went hand in hand with his life—the last thing he needed was to get attached to someone who was utterly unavailable to him.

He expected her to ramble, to be ruffled, but the look that came over her face was one of complete calm and understanding.

Priestess... his mind supplied.

This was who she was, and no man, especially not a man like Kylo Ren, was going to shake her resolve and take this from her.

"My goddess wished for you to be saved, Kylo Ren. I saw your face and that smirk which hides a lifetime of heartbreak and disappointment, the shoulders that carry the burden of expectations you cannot possibly ever live up to, and the heart that breaks more and more each day. I could feel you and your fear. I could see it with every fiber of my being. There's more to you than you pretend, Kylo Ren—more than the wicked presences you've surrounded yourself with. My goddess knows it and I know it. But the rest is up to you."

With one long, final look, she turned and left him alone in the little chamber. Alone with his damned thoughts and her words that circled in his mind. She was wrong and his self-destructive tendencies only proved it, didn't they? She wasn't the first person to try to save him, but her words haunted him and, for the first time in a long time, made him wonder.

Was there more to himself than he thought?

Was he simply a tool to be used? Or something more...?

And had this pure and perfect Virgin just picked at the core of what he needed the most and what he was most afraid of? He wasn't sure, but long after she had left, Kylo Ren laid in bed and thought of what it would be like to live in a world where he was no longer the tool, but something more than even he expected for himself.

Something a goddess, a mother, and a priestess thought was worth saving.


Quite clearly, the "Drowned in moonlight" is a nod to the late, great, Carrie Fisher. Jesus Frank Fucking Christ I miss her so much. Anyone else feel like they lost the greatest aunt they never knew they had? I'm so grateful for all that she gave of herself that I feel a bit selfish that it doesn't seem like it enough. She was enough, she was always more than enough, but I miss her, just the same. Oh, also the "I feel it too," OBVS Movie Kylo. Not me. At any rate, I took A LOT OF LIBERTIES with Roman history and the story in general here, so obvs if AUs aren't your thing... Get the to elsewhere! Big thanks to the RSSC for getting this all together and their help. This was super fun and forced me to actually, you know, finish. I'd like to go back and write some more anecdotes between Kylo and Rey (ALSO word count restriction, which is fine, but Jesus, I didn't realize that I would have so many feels about this AU lol), but we'll see if there's any interest for that kind of thing/time. Also, re: "vulnerable of positions," in Roman society, oral was urm considered unmanly, so Kylo's taking a hit to the collective manly ego because of course he doesn't give a shit about that kind of thing. Roman society was often strange. Anywho, thank you for reading and I hope, if you enjoyed, you'll leave a positive review! I love to connect with readers, so drop me a line or come on over to my super random tumblr pacificwanderer, where it's mostly Star Wars, with some fandom and random thrown in. Also! a huge shout out and thank you to red-applesith for so wonderfully illustrating this. Cheers!