Rey took a deep breath as Rose braided her hair.

"You're going to be okay, Ma'am" The young servant said. "Don't worry".

Rey did not answer.

The wedding ceremony actually went alright, for what she made of it, at least. She didn't have much experience in weddings… Yet there hadn't been any fights or trouble, no wars were declared, the mass was solemn and the dinner, sumptuous.

All of which she hadn't expected. Both their kingdoms had been rivals ever since humanity could remember. Centuries of conflicts had wiped out their populations, depleted the land and weakened them against hoards of new enemies, flowing from farther territories. The First Order, lead by the Soloren dynasty, ruled the outer territories; a feudal regime with powerful armies. They had restlessly tried to conquer the dry lands of the Sands Federation, which built an empire on its soil's minerals and merchants' efficiency, selling their ore to the known world.

Irene of the Sands of Jakku, known as "Rey", was a daughter of the Desert, heir of the allied barons Plutt, Hutt, Watto and Tanaka. Her alliance to Kylopold Benedict Soloren of the First Order, ten years her senior, was the key to the peace between their Empires and the birth of a new army, large enough to resist the new invaders.

Rey was rather anxious at the idea of meeting the powerful Lord who she was about to offer her kingdom, her soul and her body to, in the name of an ideal of peace for future generations. She had received a painted portrait of him as an engagement gift. But having seen him now, face to face, that portrait had failed to really capture him. Of course he had the height, shoulders, nose and forehead, but his gaze was different.

Rey was surprised to see softness in his eyes when everyone seemed to agree that he was an impulsive, violent man. Was he playing quiet for the ceremony? Was he trying to make a good impression on his wedding day? Around her, he had been nothing but kind, courteous even, holding her arm when she tumbled on her dress.

The wedding was now to be consummated, in order to seal the pact between their nations.

But Rey wasn't sure was this meant. She knew he'd have every right to her body as her husband.

But how? All she was told was that she'd be naked, she was not to deny any of his requests, she was to surrender to all his demands, she was not to cry or show signs of displeasure, and last but not least, she had to bleed and stain the bed sheets.

And that part scared her most of all. Bleed? How? Was he going to injure her? Butcher her in some way?

It was forbidden to cry and yet, she felt panic build in her core, her breath speeding up.

Rose took her hand, softly :

"Ma'am, it may hurt, but it won't last. Don't be afraid. You will eventually enjoy it, I promise."

Enjoy blood and pain?!

The young servant resumed getting her ready. Rey was wearing a ceremonial nightgown: a floor-length white cotton dress with ruffles and lace, tied at her wrists and neck, over a pair of split pants covering down to her ankles. Her hair had been brushed carefully and braided with white ribbons, now hanging down her back. The thick white powder covering her face for the ceremony had been cleaned off, and Rose had only applied a light touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips.

"You are all set now, Ma'am", Rose smiled to appease her. "They are waiting for you."

They.

Rey had forgotten about that. There would be an audience to watch the ritual- to confirm her virginity and testify the wedding had been fully 'consummated'.

Consummate what? Consummate who?

Rose opened the large double doors between the Lady and the Lord's bedrooms.

The bride, already feeling weak, paled as she saw the pack of people attending the Claiming ritual. Parents and guardians of Kylopold Soloren- Lady Organa and the Archbishop Snoke-officers, officials, clergymen, secretaries and lawyers, all chatting mindlessly with each other as if they were expecting an entertaining show. She saw her own guardians, Unkar Plutt, along with Maz Kanaka and the constable Zuvio.

Kylo - as she started to call him to make him less frightening - was standing on the other side of a massive four-poster bed with white curtains.

Rey took a deep breath, raised her chin, and proudly walked to the bed. Her gaze searched for her husband's, yet he refused to meet her eyes. He showed no sympathy, no support for her in his demeanor. He looked the part of the brave soldier, ready to do his duty. Rey's heart broke.

Lady Organa held her hand and helped her get on the bed, lying on her back. Kylo joined her. He was wearing a long shirt like her, but all black, and pants tied under his knees.

The curtains were then closed, but not entirely, leaving 8 inches on each side for the audience to peek at them.

The young bride stayed still on her back, having no idea what was expected of her. 'Do not cry, do not show pain, let him use your body as he wishes, let him take whatever he wants.'

"Lift your legs" A creepy voice said from outside the curtain, and Rey didn't immediately understand who was talking to her.

Her husband tilted his chin, urging her to obey. Rey lifted her knees, puzzled.

She shivered with disgust as she saw, coming towards her through the curtains, the hideous face of the Archbishop.

"Spread your legs", he instructed. "I will now check for your virginity."

Feeling anxious, Rey reached out her hand for her husband's support and he softly took it.

"Do as he says, he won't hurt you." He whispered.

So, she obeyed. She felt something cold against the inside of her thigh, (the bishop's crozier?), and closed her eyes.

A tear rolled down her cheeks as the ice-cold metal crozier spread her legs. She gasped as it slid lower, down her legs to her privates, resting at a place no one had ever touched, not even herself. She felt the metal begin to part her folds and she sucked in a terrified breath. With that, Kylopold sat up.

"Enough now." He said. "You have seen enough. Share your verdict."

"The Princess is a virgin," declared the Archbishop. "My Lord will have to confirm this afterwards, or the union will be declared void. Now do your task."

The metal shaft moved away from Rey's legs, who released the breath she was holding. The curtain shivered. Behind the fabric, the audience seemed to be getting nervous, their murmurs growing in intensity.

A soft hand wiped the tear on Rey's cheek. She opened her eyes, and met her husband's, face close to hers. He was gently running his fingers in her hair.

"My Lady", He whispered, with a voice low enough not to be heard by the crowd outside the curtains, "I don't want to hurt you. But you must know that virginity loss can be painful. Breathe, let me be in charge. The faster we do this, the sooner they will leave this room."

She nodded, her voice broken inside her throat.

"We shall have many more nights", the young Lord added, "And I will teach you. But tonight does not belong to us."

"I know", she answered. "I am ready."

Her husband ran his finger on her cheek, following the curve of her jaw, and pulled her chin towards himself and she gave herself over to him.

He was studying her, his dark eyes discovering her features, the golden freckles on her cheekbones, the soft tremble of her lips. Slowly, he leaned closer and kissed her.

She had never been kissed before. It felt good. His lips were thick and soft and smooth against her mouth. She politely returned the kiss.

He did it again, and the commotion behind the curtain increased. Someone was describing the action for those in the back.

Rey closed her eyes, letting herself relax into this second, deeper kiss. She shivered as the tip of a tongue slid against her mouth, and she opened her lips out of instinct. She leaned against her husband's warm, large chest. Their lips found a slow and natural rhythm. She sighed as she felt herself grow brave, letting her tongue touch his lips, delve into his mouth, seeking out his as he had done to her earlier.

She knew she was supposed to stay very still, but could not resist the urge to seek out his body with her hands, touch his shoulders and rake her fingers into his thick, dark hair.

He moaned as she did and with a shift of his body, lifted himself above her. He was heavy, but he supported himself on his elbow not to crush her. Rey didn't know what to do with her arms and legs. So instead, she focused on the kiss, relishing the feeling of his mouth on hers.

Kylo's left hand moved down against her stomach, lifted up her nightgown, touched her between her thighs. As he started to slide his hand up her nightgown, she opened her legs on instinct, and he took that movement of hers to move his hand higher, finding the opening of her pants.

She felt his fingers there, at that secret place she'd been taught to guard and her eyes opened wide in panic.

He pressed his forehead against hers, as to reassure her. "I…" He started. "You are very pretty."

Was she supposed to answer that? Thank him maybe? What was the protocol?

Her mouth opened, frozen in surprise and shock as she felt a thick digit play at her opening, trying to slip inside. Her whole body contracted in fear, barely allowing the the tip of him inside her.

"Please relax", he whispered, "Or it will hurt. Take a deep breath. Trust me."

She bit her lip. Relax?! She was not at all prepared for his intrusion in this part of her body. She knew that things happened down there- some liquids came out, such as urine and blood from time to time. But no one, not even herself, had touched that area and more over- nothing had ever been inserted inside. Yet, Kylopold had just inserted his finger, pushing it deeper against the tightness of her body. Rey frowned. It wasn't exactly painful, really. It was…more uncomfortable. It stretched and burned. It felt wrong.

"What are you doing?" She asked, a bit frightened to disobey the rules but too puzzled to remain quiet.

"I'm getting you ready", He answered.

His finger was removed and she sighed in relief. Was that it? It hadn't been that bad. She could survive such ceremony if she had to.

But Kylo moved to lick his finger, sucking it deeply, slicking it with his own saliva and inserted it right back. This time, it slipped easily inside her fully, and she felt grateful: though still uncomfortable, this wasn't frightening now.

The finger started moving inside her and she blushed, holding on to his shoulders, looking into his eyes. She was asking silent questions, but the only answer he gave her was to kiss her deeply.

Their audience was quiet, waiting with baited breath..

No more chit-chats or conversations, only tension and anticipation. How long was this supposed to last?

Kylo removed his finger again and Rey felt him fumble with his pants, against her thighs.

The next moment, she felt something on her skin. It was warm, hard and soft altogether. She bent her neck to see and supposed that strange object against her leg was her husband's penis. She had seen a penis before, from a stableboy taking a pee against a wall. But what she had seen was some kind of rumpled, sluggish, short cucumber. It didn't have the sheer size or the seemingly velvety texture of her husband's, nor had it been standing up, like a solider at attention, like what she felt pressing against her thigh right now.

"Take a deep breath", Kylo instructed, and she obeyed.

Her lungs filled with air and suddenly, he pressed his thing against her entrance. It was so much thicker than his finger! There was no way it could fit inside her! But he seemed to be determined to enter her.

Rey's lungs emptied. Her nails scratched her husband's shirt.

She opened her mouth in a silent scream of pain, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he crushed her down with all of his weight, pinning her to the bed. He pushed harder, stronger than before. She felt something tear deep inside her, his body ripping into her.

Rey's eyes filled with burning tears.

'Do not cry' She repeat in her head. 'Do not cry'.

She screamed, but no sound escaped her throat.

He was thrusting into her, again and again, impaling her, wounding her flesh, and the feeling was excruciating.

She fought him, but he dominated her. He was so much stronger!

"Relax", He said again. "The more you fight it, the more painful it will feel. Let go."

A sob escaped Rey's mouth. She had promised not to whine, but this was so painful! He had thrusted himself so deep inside and her whole body was rejecting the intrusion.

He pulled out and she released a thankful breath, yet he pushed again with a strong thrust and she screamed in agony. She clenched her teeth and her eyes, now sobbing heavily. In and out, in and out; he was digging in her flesh, and it felt terrible. The delicate skin of where he was pummeling into her burned, the stretch almost unbearable ; her whole body was objecting.

Kylo was heavy on her chest. He had stopped kissing her and tucked his head into her neck. He breathed heavily, holding her wrists to stop her from fighting, and pounded faster into her body.

Sounds of approval arouse from the audience around the bed.

Rey lost the notion of time. She had closed her eyes, bit her lips, and waited for her torment to come to an end.

In and out, in and out.

Rose had promised her she would enjoy it. She had lied.

At last, Kylo changed his pace. He lifted himself above her on his arms, closed his eyes, and groaned loudly.

The sound struck her and she worried, was he in pain too?

"Are you okay?" she heard herself ask him.

He thrusted into her again a few more times, and it was suddenly slick and wet between her thighs. She felt full of something warm and oily. What was that now? Was it normal? Did she do something wrong? She blushed.

Kylo pulled out at last and Rey sighed in relief. She turned over and away from him, silently crying, feeling the oily liquid drip out of her and onto her thighs.

Kylo tucked his now flaccid organ into his pants and rolled on his back. His hair was sticking to the sweat of his forehead. Rey could taste the salt from the tears on her cheeks.

The curtain opened wide on the hideous shape of the archbishop. Blood had stained the sheets.

Rey cried in relief. She did good. She had done her duty. Some attendees clapped, made comments of the show, and the next minute, the room was empty.

Kylo turned towards her."Come here", He said.

Rey shivered in fright. Was he going to thrust into her again? Yet she obeyed, afraid of the consequences if she didn't. She came close and he held her tight. A gentle embrace, as he would soothe a child's pain after a bumped head or a skinned knee. Relieved, yet sore, she let him do it.

"Are you sleepy?" He asked.

She shaked her head. Not really.

She had a thousand unanswered questions, but she wasn't sure she was allowed to ask them.

"We will try again", He said softly into her ear. "Alone, next time. We'll take our time. It will feel better, you'll see… And soon, you'll become pregnant."

She closed her eyes. Her privates were burning, a painful sensation due to the ordeal she went through. She needed fresh water, or milk, to apply and ease the pain. But she didn't dare to ask.

So she prayed for sleep to come quick and ease her out of her agony.

They would do it again, and then she'd become pregnant. There was a connection no one explained her.

She'd get used to intercourse, Rose said.

But Rey wasn't so sure. Her body had been brutalized, damaged, and she wasn't sure she was willing to look at her husband the same way ever again, as he seemed to have enjoyed this maltreatment.

It felt like freedom when sleep washed over her at last.

Kylopold Benedict Soloren, Lord of the First Order, was watching his bride sleeping.

How old was she? Less than twenty… her body was shapely but her skin was soft as a child's.

Rivers of salt still stained her cheeks.

He felt sorry for it.

He wished they could have taken their time, that he could have made her want him, increased her desire, but this first night was ceremonial and he was bound to take her virginity, in front of witnesses, to seal their union. That was the law. How awful for a young lady to lose her virginity, painfully in front of an audience!

He had read surprise, and agony, in her eyes. He understood no one explained intercourse to her. She arrived as a lamb to a butcher, naive and fragile, without the vaguest idea of the act she was going to go through.

She'd felt tight, clenched, dry, and closed as if her body was trying to prevent his intrusion. He deeply wished she'd relax and get wet, but he couldn't blame her. He could only imagine the horror she was experiencing.

The war between their kingdoms had lasted for ages and the wedding was agreed upon in order to build a conjoined army, to confront the new invaders. Soldiers of the First Order, craftsmen and ore of the Sands.

Kylopold had always known, even as a young boy, that he wouldn't get to pick his wife. He had imagined a thousand different stories : an old wrinkly empress who'd act as his mother; a hysterical, spoiled brat; a stupid teenage girl without wit or talent...

Yet, when he'd received the portrait of Irene "Rey" of the Sands of Jakku, he was in awe. The artist must have exaggerated her beauty, to please his patron. Would she be mean, ugly, or infertile? He was ready to be deceived.

And yet...

He couldn't take his eyes off her throughout the wedding ceremonies.

Inside the cathedral, where the mass seemed to last for hours, she was wearing a red dress with strings of gold and a veil over her face. He could make out the shape of her nose and the hazel of her eyes under the delicate silk hiding her features.

She stood straight, but she was tiny. He worried he might break her when he'd make love to her, so he'd have to be gentle. Her hips seemed narrow; could she bare children? It was a priority for her to become pregnant and bare an heir to their combined kingdoms in order to strengthen their union.

They were officially wed in front of the Church and the People. After the vows, the blessings, the unctions, the prayers, the rituals, and a thousand other official rites, he'd lifted her veil at last. Her eyes were shining. She'd been crying. She was scared. What did she know about him? What impression had she been given about him?

He wasn't soft on the battlefield, yet again, that wasn't was was required.

He was commanding with his people and servants, but that was his task as their king.

He was passionate with his lovers, maids at his service 'for experience" and prostitutes here and there, but she could not possibly have heard of his behavior with them.

And suddenly, as they left the cathedral, Irene had stepped on her dress and almost stumbled in front of the crowd. The bride falling to the ground in front of the Church and the peasants would have been a terrible omen, and he didn't think twice before catching her arm and helping her find her balance. She had clenched her fingers on his glove and her eyes gleamed with something new.

Gratitude?

His heart pounded hard and he felt his cock harden in his pants. She was glowing. His Desert flower.

He could never have dreamed of marrying such a woman. He was thankful, and amazed, to own her now. He was looking forward to making love to her, to taste he skin, the make her his own.

But that, will come later.

The first night would be the Claiming Ritual. Given the pressure of their parents and all the attending officials, it would be impossible (forbidden, even) to give her sexual pleasure.

Until now, he had always considered it normal and not a big deal. The woman could certainly clench her teeth a few minutes.

But as he looked at Irene, at her hazel eyes, the pearls of her teeth, the shiver of her lips… he was struck by the horror of his task.

She deserved something else, she deserved better. She deserved to be loved and worshiped, to swoon in bliss and to fall asleep with a smile on her lips.

Kylopold looked away when she walked into the room, dressed as a doll covered in a meringue of lace. He felt sorry for her and for what she was about to go through, and couldn't look her in the eyes, or he wouldn't be able to do his part.

He'd have wanted her to be naked, to see her breasts and her thighs, but this ceremonial nightgown, ruffled like a christening dress, was all but sexy. He couldn't see an inch of skin.

Maybe that was on purpose. Just thinking about the slimy glare of Archbishop Snoke on his bride's body make him sick. He saw the drop on saliva on the lips of the old priest as he was spreading Irene's legs with his gold crozier to "testify her virginity". He saw the priest lecherous tongue point out of his open mouth.

It was too much and Kylo had put and end to it. He knew he'd be in trouble for that later, but it didn't matter now. His wife's honor was at stake.

Never before had he considered the scale of the disaster: the ritual was sordid. Ha, how nobles and soldiers would laugh and brag about their performance on their wedding night, gloating about pounding their screaming wive's cunts, looking fierce and proud.

They'd guffaw and pat each other on the back.

He used to laugh with them.

Yet tonight… tonight…

She was shaking on the bed, breathless, fists clenched, legs opened, and he realized there would only be one first time. This first time would be a disaster for her, no matter how hard he tried to appease her. After that, she would be scared of him, and hate sex. This ritual was barbaric.

He tried to reassure her. To apologize in advance. They'd have better nights, he promised. But he had to take her, here and now, and Lord, let her bleed!

Not all maids bled, not even the virgins, and this silly superstition ruined the lives of numerous young ladies, locked into convents for the rest of their days. Let her bleed! He had only known her for a few hours and yet the idea of her being taken away from him caused him to tremble.

He had tried to make her want him, and he was too happy she'd kiss him back. But to his disappointment, her body was dry, and clenched. She was under too much pressure to relax. He had to get her wet or she would scream in pain and would be traumatized for the months, maybe even years to come. He did his best, in spite of the many layers of fabric between them and the dozens of staring eyes… Saliva, fingers, to ease a little -not enough- what would come next.

It hadn't been enough, but he couldn't postpone anymore. People were talking behind the curtains, commenting of his ability. He had to prove that he had the situation under his control… as well as his wife.

He was aware that he was too big for this first experience. He had found difficult to thrust one finger into her; how would he manage his whole hard cock? She was tight and in panic, but he forced his way into her, thrusting against her hymen, devastated to read despair in her eyes as he claimed her maidenhead.

And yet he desired her, with all his heart, since he laid eyes on her in the Cathedral. His cock was painfully hard. It was a relief to fuck her at last.

As Irene's body eventually surrendered, he held back a blissful groan. She was incredibly tight around his shaft, the feeling was divine. Narrow, burning hot, soft, he thrust into her and resisted the urge to increase the pace.

He saw tears roll down her cheeks and his heart broke.

As Kylopold was blessing the Lord to have given him this woman's body to possess every night until death do they part, Irene was obviously cursing the same Lord for the nights of torment to come.

She fought under his body, trying to get him off with her knees and her pelvis, and he held her wrists to pin her down, letting his natural weight keep her still. She released a long breath, and screamed silently as he moved back and forth inside her.

He held her still and increased his pace, thrusting deeper as she adapted to his size, and as he pounded her, he heard the approving comments of the audience, behind the curtains.

At least, his task was fulfilled.

He could feel his pleasure build, his balls growing tense, heat rising in his cock, back and forth with each thrust. He tucked his face into Rey's neck, his amazing wife. She smelled divine and her skin was soft.

He'd contemplate her body tomorrow, for their second night. Tonight, it was time to end this.

His orgasm was close and he lifted himself on his arms to come into her, deep inside, in powerful spurts that made him groan loudly.

A strange look came over her face and... was she worried about him? How adorable. Yes he was alright, if she only knew… He stayed inside her a few moments, then pulled out and tucked his softening cock into his pants.

A dribble of white cum was dripping out of his wife.

Kylopold scowled was he noticed the Archbishop Snoke's depraved glare. The despicable old man probably ruined his cassock.

Irene of the Sands of Jakku had bled. He had taken her virginity, filled her with his seed, and she'd bled. Everything had gone as planned.

When the room emptied at last, he pulled her into his arms. She was shaking with fright and pain. He tried to appease her, muttering soft words and kisses into her ear.

The heart of Kylopold Benedict Soloren of the First order was beating hard. An unknown feeling was burning his chest : he was in love.

And the next nights would be all theirs.