His uncle stopped in front of the raised dais. He looked pleased to have gotten a leg up on his prince, and for having surprised him. Ben could only imagine why he'd brought her there, but he thought it might have something to do with the tournament that was being held next week. Leia acted as if she hadn't noticed what had passed when the girl had entered the room. Ben took a moment to examine the red jewels strung around her neck, glistening like pomegranate seeds that had just been torn free of the fruit. He wondered if Luke had chosen them.

Luke gave a low bow, his slate colored robes brushing the highly shined floor. As he rose, he took her hand and drew her around him in a wide arc, before he drew her forward and presented her as if she was some sort of fine gift. Ben did his best to not look surprised. It was a surprising choice, for his uncle. A young woman, and especially this young woman. Ben knew she came from no royal bloodline, he knew it just by looking at her hands that she was trying so hard to hide against her slender stomach. They were calloused. She had probably been working since she was a young girl.

"My queen," He gave a bow towards Leia, and she responded with one of her own. His flinty, strange eyes settled on Ben. "My prince," Ben gave a nod of his head in return. "Allow me to introduce Rey. She's to be my champion,"

"Only Rey? No last name?" Ben asked, his amber doused eyes sliding in her direction.

"I am an orphan," She said, earnestly. Her declaration almost surprised him."And I have no title of note," Which meant that she had no last name of note. There was a prideful quality in her tone, and when she lifted her eyes to him he saw the dislike that burned there. Finally, she dipped her head in some sort of show of apology, and Ben laughed.

"Uncle Luke, I did not know you had a fondness for bringing in strays," He looked very pointedly at her.

Luke's eyes flashed, revealing that he was not at all the fumbling old man he played at being. Even now, Ben knew little of him, and his subtle looks were hard to decipher.

"Though she may be a stray, she is formidable,"

Ben lifted his dark eyebrow, looking at his uncle curiously.

Finally, Leia spoke.

"Well, go on, tell us why,"

"Well, I think you'll be impressed with her, my queen,"

Ben knew that Luke was a master of deflection. Why was it important to him, when tournaments had never seemed to be his amusement before? Ben found it odd that he should show such an interest now, an interest that lead him as far as choosing a champion. He hoped he didn't have the mad idea that this girl would be the head of his new Sentinels. Luke had scolded him often on the fact that his 'guard' was more loyal to his mother than they were to him. He was to need his own guard, eventually. Ben shifted in his chair, crossing his ankles together in a position that would have once bothered his mother. She hardly seemed to notice now, her eyes on the glittering young woman in front of her.

"I hope she knows what she's gotten herself into," Leia said, though at that point the conversation seemed to be over. His mother was generally uninterested in whatever Luke seemed to be up to, but Ben could not believe it was because she thought him to be harmless. They had once been quite a formidable pair, themselves.

Ben kept his eyes on the girl. He watched her move like water across stones against the flow of the crowd. No one seemed to notice her, it was as if she never touched anyone at all - which was nearly impossible in this crowded room. She was composed, and had the gait of someone who was not made nervous by this type of affair. It made him wonder how many she had seen in her time. Ben tried not to let her disappear, but his attention was drawn by the weight of his mother's hand on his shoulder. She turned to look at him.

"I grow tired of this," She admitted. "Cut the cake for me?"

Ben nodded his head, standing before she would to help her from her chair. He helped her out of the room, and she left him at the door, telling him quietly that someone needed to remain, at least for an hour or so. He worried for her, her presence became less and less as she grew older. She found the whole thing to be tiring, it seemed. Not that he could blame her, he found it tiring as well. He watched her small frame move into the dark before disappearing. His father hardly ever made an appearance, and that night proved to be of little exception.

Once she had gone, Ben spotted his uncle with a gaggle of his cronies off in a dark corner of the room. They were men who talked philosophy and conspiracy with him. Ben had never found any of them to be comfortable in his presence, nor he in theirs. He made his way through the tangle of the crowd, trying to skirt the edges of the dancers to get a word with his "beloved" Uncle Luke. Ben caught his uncle's arm and tugged him away from his circle, where he might have been in the middle of climbing up onto his soapbox. Luke was irritated by having been pulled away, and took a pouting sip of his favored apple crisp wine.

"I would know what it is you think you're doing," Ben said, more of a statement that he expected to met with explanation rather than a question.

"This is a party, Ben. I'm sure your mother raised you with better manners than this," He said, spilling some of his wine on the floor. "Can't we talk about this tomorrow?" Another slosh, and another sip of wine. "Why don't you go ask the girl to dance, and see if you can find it out for yourself...for once," He muttered, before turning back to his circle of friends, who welcomed him back with a good deal of shouting.

Ben didn't want to ask her to dance. He wanted to ask her a question and demand she answer it, but he knew that in this setting it might not be the best way to go. At least not now, with so many eyes on him. He thought he might be able to draw some sort of hint out of her, as he was automatically wary of what his uncle was up to. If she was truly Luke's creature, she would be hard to crack. He found she was hard to find, each time he thought he spied her out of the corner of his eye, she seemed to dissolve. Maybe he was seeing things. When he was about to give up, he turned to find her standing - resolutely - at the refreshments table. She seemed to find the small, finger sized food rather interesting, but she did not take any of it for herself. Ben found it familiar, considering he never touched anything at parties such as this one.

He found himself weaving through the crowd again, moving as quickly as possible so as not to lose her again. He realized that she might have been avoiding him on purpose, and was only allowing herself to be seen now. Ben had all of the tact of an angry bull, and he realized he was probably easy to spot and avoid. He was being obvious in pursuing her, but he had a curious itch he could not scratch unless she tried to speak with her.

"Lady," He stopped in front of her, finding that there was nothing even remotely pleased about his presence in her eyes. He offered his gloved hand. "Will you dance?"

She examined his hand as if he'd just attempted to hand her a smelly, rabid rathound. He wondered if she would outright decline him, and the longer she made him wait for a reply, the more stormy his expression became. Finally, after what seemed like a good deal of thought on her part, she slid her hand into his. Even though it was smaller, her grip betrayed a deceptive amount of strength. They moved out onto the dance floor. There was utter silence. No one had ever seen Ben dance before, or at least if they had, it was rare.

He swung her out much like Luke had, in a wide semi-circle. They came to stand in front of one another. She placed a hand at his shoulder first, and then he placed a hand at the small of her waist. She was warm. She rested her hand atop his outstretched arm, and once the music began, they began to move in the practiced steps of the court. Of course, he had been taught to dance - but so had she. They moved together effortlessly, her steps almost eerily silent.

"Tell me what you hope to gain by entering the tournament," He said, without any sort of tact, and without any sort of kindness in his voice.

"To earn your favor, my Prince," She demurred. She might have been coy, if she weren't so sarcastic.

"I'm sure you have a much better reason than that," He scoffed. "Especially if you are truly my uncle's creature,"

"Why, can't a low born orphan earn your favor?"

"In battle?" He laughed, unable to hide his true feelings about the subject.

She stepped on his foot, causing him to expel an astonished sound. It hadn't hurt as much as it had been surprising. Ben clenched his jaw.

"I'm sorry, my Prince," She purred out. "I can be so clumsy,"

Ben saw now that this was the game that they were playing, and he tightened his grip on her, doing his best to bruise her beneath the leather she wore. She released a short gasp, much like his own.

"I want to know who you are," He leaned into her, gritting the words out with fury, his breath rustling the hair around her ear.

He could almost see the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the warmth of his breath washed over the crux of the skin. Anyone who looked at them might think they were paramours, but both of them knew better. She had placed her hand on his side, quickly. She reeled back, driving the flat of her knuckles into his wounded side. He groaned, crumpling like a doll. How had she known? It seemed they were done playing games. He fell down to his knees, grasping his side, and she did her best to throw him off. He tried to catch his breath, the shock of pain entirely unexpected.

"You're not asking the right questions, Prince," She sneered out, taking a metered breath. Her fist flexed at her side. "And I can smell blood in the water,"

Ben ended the night in the infirmary with an upset nurse who told him that he was silly for allowing his stitches to be torn, and silly for not coming in immediately. There was the painful process of having it cleaned and re-stitched, both of which Ben thought the nurse did with extra vigor just to make a point to him. He had been a thorn in their side ever since he had gotten better, and he had gotten into fighting. He came in with wounds more often than the normal person, and he didn't seem to care about the consequences of such wounds.

Ben snuck out when the night was at it's darkest, realizing the sun would rise in only a couple of hours. He wandered through the corridors, finding that embers of the party still glowed orange, as there were people too drunk to get home, and people still trying the lazy dance of the dead. He did not expect her to still be there, but he scanned the skeleton crowd anyway. No sign of her, no sign of Rey. He was thankful to go unnoticed and managed to make it back to his chamber without incident, the pain in his side ebbing away despite the stink of the medicinal salve the nurse had wiped on the wound. She had tried to give him opite-wine, made for sleeping, but he spit it out as soon as she turned her back on him. However, the brief contact with it had made him a little drowsy.

He face planted into his bed and fell immediately to sleep.

It didn't last long. Ben had been blessed with insomnia since he'd been poisoned, and the noise of the Palace waking up around him didn't allow him to sleep into the morning like he'd planned. When he moved from his position, he found his side had begun aching with renewed fervor. He felt feverish, but he ignored it, deciding instead to tug himself up and do his best to get dressed.

The week went by in a blur. There would be no way that he could avoid Snoke's battering, but after word spread that Luke's "champion" had punched him and he'd crumpled, Snoke had avoided going after the wound again. Ben supposed it was because twice was enough, even for him. He managed to punish Ben in other ways though, as he always did. Ben felt more focused than he had been in years, though, and one particularly rage filled session ended with Snoke on his back, in the dust. He coughed and laughed it off, but even he couldn't bring himself to give Ben a compliment. Instead, the Prince was harangued for having let his anger take over the fight.

At least it had been effective.

The next day, Snoke told him that there would be no lessons - only rest before the big tournament. Ben would never have said it to him, but he knew, for once, he had won.

Ben was expected to fight on the day of the tournament, but he knew it would be much like it had been before. No one would really ever fight him, and he would be forced to fight out a few rounds before growing bored with winning and joining his mother in her box. That tournament had another purpose, however, thrown for the benefit of Ben trying to choose new members of his guard.

He expected to see Rey, but he did not expect that he would be matched up with her after the first few matches that he had won. He was surprised to see her, covered in dust and clad in the garb of a warrior. He had to believe that Luke had bought it for her. She was covered in dust, and even though she was dressed like a warrior, it looked as though no one had been able to land a hit on her. Ben wasn't intimidated. She wore lightweight leather armor, revealing her shapely arms that were tanned to a nut brown. In her hand she held a short blade, sharp and obviously meant to do a good deal of damage. Ben preferred longer swords, but he was reminded, briefly, of Wildflower. Would she be too fast for him?

The match started off well enough. It was a bit like the dance they had shared a few nights prior, however. Ben did his best not to underestimate her, even though she appeared to be teasing him. She took a few checks with grace, but eventually it became obvious that even though they were well matched, she might have been his better. She checked him back, slashing his light weight armor and nearly drawing blood. Ben found it hard to keep his head, the more she bested him, the angrier he got. He returned the favor, slashing her right down the middle of her armor, exposing just a bit of bloody flesh beneath her breasts. The victory was short lived.

Perhaps the angrier she got, the better she was. She moved like a well trained assassin when challenged, and Ben found his feet swept out from underneath him and his back connecting with the dirt, knocking the air out of him. Before he was able to regain his footing, she was on top of him, straddling him with her thighs and pressing the sharp point of her blade against his Adam's apple. She looked please with herself, and his eyes flashed with a dark puddle of anger.

"Do you yield?" She asked, breathlessly.

"Never," He muttered, feeling the point of her blade dig deeper into his throat. She drew blood, and if the referee had not stopped them, she might have had her way and killed him - right there in the dust.

She lifted herself off of him, though if she was expecting cheers, she was met with a confused silence. No one had ever bested the Prince before. Perhaps he had gotten lazy. The embarrassment would have normally enraged him, no matter how much it shamed him that no one truly wanted to fight him - but he found himself intrigued by the fact that she had been unafraid to do so.

Rey worked her way up through the matches throughout the entire week tourney. She even bested Finn, who had yet to have been bested by anyone, including Ben. He spent the rest of the week by his mother's side with a resting face that suggested it was better he not be spoken to. He hated to admit it, Luke had been right. They were both impressed with her. Ben knew she had no more respect for him than Finn did, but he thought he might be able to pay her enough to at least keep her loyalty for a time. Obviously, Luke had more of a sway with her than anyone else, which concerned him, but he had to think that his uncle was offering her something of value. Maybe he could offer something of more value.

His mother seemed to agree with the decision, though she had not seen the way that Rey had looked at him the night of the dance. If she had, she might have changed her mind. However, when the tournament ended, Ben had decided that he would present the offer to her. Maybe they would all be spared from her horrible wrath and she would decline, but Ben had to guess that keeping one's enemies close was the best path to take.

After the tourney was over, and Finn was a beaten mess, he found her in the training pit, still fighting. Her weapon of choice had changed, and she had exchanged the medium sized blade for a small, excessively sharp dagger. He shuddered to think of the damage she might have done with such a small, brutal weapon. She moved with a silent, deadly quickness, and Ben was sure he had seen it before. His memories were foggy, and they covered themselves up. He watched her as she darted out, stabbing the straw filled dummy with ease before she realized she was being watched. She paused, turning to look at him.

"I wondered when you'd show up," She said, dropping the blade into the dirt and turning to look at him.

"Arrogance doesn't suit you," He said, darkly.

"What do you want?" She asked, taking a deep breath before dipping her hand into a heavy brass bowl filled with water, pulling it to her mouth and drinking heavily.

"I want to make you an offer,"

"Oh really?" She smirked, pleased with herself.

"I want you to be the head of my guard,"

"And usurp that surly man from the Isles? Never," She laughed.

"I will pay you, and I'll allow you to bring in whatever knights you chose," He hated to admit it, but he was bargaining for her services. He was bargaining for her.

"Why? You have a perfectly good guard. And I'm fairly sure that you didn't believe I would ever win your favor in battle," She seethed out.

"I will pay you a good deal," He finally said, in place of an apology he really did not want to give.

"And if I say yes? What else?"

Ben wracked his brain. What would appeal to her? She didn't leave him hanging for too long.

"I want my own wing," She finally said. "I want to be able to bring in my own guard, under your banner of course," She admitted. "You will pay me, and you will guarantee me a permanent place at the palace," She paused. "And I want to train you,"

He scoffed.

"If you aren't willing to meet these requirements, I am sure there are lots of lords and ladies out there who would take me on for much more,"

"Fine," He couldn't stand how smug she was, and he couldn't stand the fact that he was begging her.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked.

"I think you already know the answer to that question,"

"Yes. What makes you think I'll be any more loyal to you?"

"Money," He said, before turning the tide of the conversation. "You'll start tomorrow. They'll have to fit you for suitable clothing. You should tell my uncle. I'm sure he'll be pleased,"

"I'm sure he will," She took another mouthful of water before returning to her exercise, never seeming to tire.

The very next day, Luke found him.

"I'm proud of you. It seems as if you've made the first good decision of your life,"

"She is no more loyal to me than she is to my mother," He said, looking blankly at his uncle.

"That may be true," He admitted. "But I think you have a good chance of earning her respect,"

Ben was in the middle of saddling his great black mount for a ride. He tightened a strap on the saddle, ignoring his uncle.

"Why are you doing this?" He finally asked.

"She is more skilled than anyone I have ever seen, and you need your own guard. Regardless of how it starts, it only matters how it ends," He said, as if it made any sense at all. "The guard you have now pities you. They stay with you because of your mother. Once she dies, I am not sure you will be so lucky,"

Ben flinched. He didn't like to hear about his mother dying, no matter how much of a reality it might have been right then.

"And what do you get out of this?"

"The pleasure of knowing my nephew is well protected,"

It was difficult to tell when Luke was lying, but Ben found at that moment that he was pretty sure he was.

They weren't able to continue on with the conversation, as Rey soon made herself apparent. She'd spent the morning being fitted, and for the time being it looked as though she had borrowed the best fitting set of riding clothes she could. They had not revealed the news yet, that she was to be taking over, but the time would come. For now, news had reached Ben that there were small villages being burned and ransacked at the edges of his land, which meant that he would be responsible for riding out in an attempt to survey the damage, and see if he could oust the rabble that was likely causing the destruction.

Mostly, his thought would have been to ignore it, but his mother would not have allowed it. He couldn't find himself to care the way she did about the smaller outposts, and found himself still on the line for being responsible for them. He turned again to glance at his new captain, finding her annoyingly chipper. Her hair had been cleaned and brushed back into a complicated chignon, with small red jewels pinned in here and there. The riding outfit she chose was a brilliant crimson dress with a structured bodice - though she had left behind the petticoats. He caught a glimpse of her highly shined riding boots and wondered if she'd borrowed the ensemble from one of the courtiers. It was functional enough that she would be able to ride.

"Is this to be how it is?" He asked, his deep tones splitting the silence. Both she and Luke looked at him. "She'll be following me everywhere I go?"

"Isn't it my job to see you're protected?" She asked, finishing with her saddle before swinging herself up into it with ease.

"I can well protect myself," Ben said.

"Oh, yes, well we've seen a good indication of that," She smirked, meanly, at him.

"Now children," Luke finally said. "Ben, stop sulking. I'm sure you'll appreciate having someone on your side, in time,"

Right, he thought. My side. He swung himself up into his saddle, cape catching the wind and moving out behind him. He hooked his feet in the saddle straps.

My side indeed.

The rain started early in the ride, forcing Rey to stop and pull out a cloak, wrapping it tightly around her head. Ben pulled the hood on his own, letting it drape around his face. Eventually though, they were both so soaked that it didn't much matter. The ride was to be a two day journey, and they had planned to stop halfway at an Inn that Ben had stayed at before - however the weather forced them to stop a good deal sooner in a small, muddy town that was made mostly of straw and cow-shit. There was an Inn, though Ben was always wary staying in places he hadn't stayed before - especially if they recognized him.

"I don't think we should stay here," He admitted as they lead their muddy horses to the small stable.

"Well, we can't continue in this weather," She admitted, glancing towards the sky. Ben watched a slippery strand of her hair cling to her cheek and had an urge to reach out and brush it away from her berry stained lips.

"We can camp,"

"If we camp, one of us will end up with up with some sort of illness and perhaps die," She muttered. "Stand behind me, and keep your hood up,"

Ben did as he was told, despite wanting to argue with her for the sake of arguing with her. He followed her into the Inn, watching her shed her wet cloak. She settled her gaze on what they both assumed was the inn keep, who was busy beginning his evening rotting out his insides with a good deal of vinegary penny wine. He looked at them both, dripping travelers in finery and said "no vacancies" so quickly that Ben was surprised at it.

Rey turned coy, leaning forward onto the counter to give the keeper full view of her low cut dress. Ben almost rolled his eyes, but if he had tried such a thing he definitely would have been camping. He could see the man's attitude shifting at the thought of getting underneath the skirt of such a fine lady. Rey would kill him first before he even got that far, of course - but what mattered was securing a room.

"Oh, I'm sure you have an open room for us? We have plenty of coin," She purred out, and Ben, keeping his face low, flashed the purse hidden in the depths of his black cloak.

"All filled up, ma'am," He said, the red from the wine having caused his nose to be red and bulbous.

"Even your best room? Really, coin is no issue," Rey pulled forward, causing her breasts to push forward.

"Well, I might have som'tin," He admitted. "But it'll cost ye',"

"Great," She signed, leaning back from the counter. "How much?" She blew her hair out of her face. The motion of it caused his throat to clench up in sudden reminiscence. He ignored it.

"One silva' per night," He grumbled, pulling away his gaze from her to finally land on him. "Ye'll have to share,"

Ben sighed, pulling out the money and putting it on the farthest point of the counter so that the toad-like man would have to reach for it.

"Thank you," Rey murmured out; breathy.

The inn keeper got up, grabbed an old brass key, and showed them the way. While he waddled out in front of them, he explained that they could order food from the cook at any time, though he warned that he tended to be rather drunk after a certain time. When the room was opened, it was certainly nothing special, but Ben thought he might charge a silver for the fire place. Ben was glad to see it, and glad to see the small bundle of wood set beside it. There was one bed, and he realized he would likely be sleeping on the straw floor. Once the door was shut behind him, Ben drew his hood back, dark hair still dripping onto his shoulders.

"What a fine display of your talents," He said, blandly.

"It got us a room, didn't it? I'll go downstairs and get some food, so that they don't recognize you," She said. "Can you start a fire, boy Prince?"

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," He said, matching her sarcasm. He pulled his cloak off and hung it aside, hoping the fire would dry it out before the next day. He set to work starting the fire, hearing the door click shut behind him as she went down to see what she might scrounge up for food.

"Great," He muttered to himself, watching as the flint struck with a spark big enough and began burning the wood, filling the room with the smokey smell of sage-tree.

DOST THOU ENJOY THIS AU? send me feedback/comments! share if you like it!

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