Chapter Three

There were worse prisons in which to be captured, Rey thought as she stared at the room where they'd shoved her. Whatever she had been expecting—cells dug into the snow of some remote ice planet somewhere, far-away Spice mines, a cargo ship drifting out towards the edges of chartered space—it hadn't been this: a dark palace, carved out of Obsidian stone, furnished with the finery of the Galaxy. Crimson carpets and drapery, black and silver silks, beds—real beds!—carved out of real trees, mechanical devices she didn't yet understand and art pieces she didn't want to.

It wasn't any kind of Hell, she decided. At least not yet. The only people she'd been in contact with since her meeting with Emperor Vader had been Stormtroopers, but there was still time for Hell to find her. Once she found out their purpose for stealing her away from home…that's probably when it would creep up behind her and hold her fast. Yes, the room looked nice enough now, but she wouldn't let it lull her into a false sense of security.

There was something else, though, that disturbed her. Down to her core. A small thing, really. Despite the beauty of her surroundings, everything about this place was unnatural, unreal. Nothing was as it should have been; nothing was in its original state. Carved wood. Blasted, polished stone. Plants trapped in crystal. The city beneath her, too, was devoid of anything real. No green grass or fresh running water or desert sand. Even the cold air on her skin, so different from the morning heat or the nighttime chill of Jakku, spread across her like a false, second skin, thick and heavy.

After she'd waited to make sure the Stormtroopers weren't going to randomly barge in, she immediately set to work on the place, checking every panel and every crack and wall for signs of weakness. Escaping from The Empire wouldn't do her any favors— they'd probably put a bounty on her head the second she stepped out of their sight—but she couldn't stay here. Jakku was waiting for her. And she needed to get out before this ornate room turned into an ornate torture chamber. Whatever they had in store for her couldn't be good, and she didn't want to be around when they finally got around to doling it out.

But an hour later, dripping with desperation-scented sweat, she collapsed in the window seat of the firmly sealed circular window. Hovering high over the planet below, she could almost be certain they were on Coruscant. The city below her buzzed and hummed with excitement and life. From here, she couldn't see the stormtroopers hassling merchants or Imperial cadets pushing their weight around with the locals. From here, she was halfway between the blue sky of freedom and a planet-sized city…a city she could disappear into.

A pane of impenetrable glass kept her from those temptations, taunting her with their closeness. In that moment, she vowed she would get out of this place, one way or another. No matter what it took. If she'd learned one thing on Jakku, it was that she may be a nobody, but she was a survivor, too.

Rey knew something was coming for her even before the keypad activated the door and revealed him. Rey didn't know how she knew, but she did. Still, she didn't give the intruder the dignity of her attention. She focused on the window, on freedom.

Eyes on the blue sky over Coruscant, she couldn't help but sense the shift in the room. This was not like when Vader had approached; there was no cloak of darkness wrapping around her like a clenched fist threatening to drain her of life. It was erratic, a push and pull of light and dark, of chill and warmth, of safety and danger.

It intrigued her. It took every ounce of her energy to stay focused on the window, to drink in the sun and cling to its heat.

Then, the window betrayed her, catching the electric glare and reflecting a cloaked, masked figure standing behind her, the one she knew so well from so many holo-projections of Empire events. Her blood turned to ice.

"Kylo Ren," she muttered, from between clenched teeth.

"I see my reputation has precedes me," came the voice from the modulated speech device somewhere inside of his mask.

At least, she thought it must have been modulated. There was something artificial about it, something not quite human. No one had ever seen Kylo Ren without his mask on and lived to tell the tale, so she had to wonder…Was he human at all?

Human or not, his sudden appearance without guards, without weapons, without anything but anger in his voice, sent her heart racing. She unfurled herself from the window seat and pressed herself against it, glancing in every direction for something she could use to defend herself if the need arose. There was a freedom talking to him that she didn't have with Emperor Vader. Without even touching her, he'd seemed to choke the will to speak out of her. Whereas the rage that permeated Kylo Ren only fed her own. She didn't miss the way he stood in the door, blocking her only sure exit with his brutally imposing form.

"Your infamy, more like," she muttered, darkly. "Your crimes."

"I don't have the same advantage. Your name?" he asked. Then, his almost disinterested tone turned into a fiery command. "Your name."

Keep him talking, she reminded herself. If he's here to torture you, then maybe he'll slip up and say something that will help you escape if you get the chance. Just keep him talking. Giving him any ground in this battle of words tore at her pride, but self-preservation won out. "…Rey."

"Rey." If she didn't know better—that he was a monster with a heart as opaque and metallic as that mask of his—she might have thought he was savoring the word. In any event, he erased the softness of her name a cold rebuke. She didn't miss the way his hands shook as he began to pace the room like a caged Steelpecker. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked. Wasn't he supposed to know that? "What?"

"Tell me what you are doing here."

Fire blazed up the column of her throat. Rage swallowed up her self-preservation instincts whole. "I was taken from my home, thrown aboard a ship, interrogated by your Emperor Vader and dumped in this room not even a cycle ago. No one has told me anything but that I am to serve your great and glorious empire. Why don't you tell me what I am doing here?"

"You are our prisoner."

"Oh, is that so? Well, I suppose that explains the locked doors and sealed windows." This time, when she repeated the question, she separated each word deliberately. If she was a prisoner of The Empire, and if there was no escape, then she'd die knowing that she didn't go down without a fight. "What am I doing here?"

"The Force has brought you here. Brought you to me."

No, a few stormtroopers and your precious Emperor and a heavy dosing of med-gas did that. Swallowing the retort, her mind caught on those two little words. The Force. She'd heard stories, of course, but no one really believed The Force was real…Did they?

"The Force? Like the old legends of The Jedi?"

"The Truth of The Sith. Yes." Closing four of the six long paces between them, Kylo Ren lorded over her, the eyes behind his dark mask no doubt examining her. For her part, Rey couldn't quite wrap her mind around how big he was and how small she felt in his presence. Oblivious to the fear rattling on inside of her, the fear she fought so hard to conceal, he continued on, strained. "The Force has ordained that you will one day be my Empress."

"Your Empress—I would never—"

"You don't have a choice!"

The sound of his shout struck the walls, knocking her back a step as though she'd been knocked back by his own two hands. This time, there was no mistaking what hung in the air. Darkness. Rage. A power that Rey wasn't entirely sure Kylo Ren knew how to control.

And there was helplessness. As if he, the chosen successor of the might Emperor, heir to the entire Galactic Empire, were as much a pawn in this game as he was.

"Anyway, it's of little consequence. I'm sending you back. You can't be the one The Force chose. There must have been something…" He stopped himself, then settled. His breathing grew less erratic. His shoulders squared. Even without the benefit of seeing his face, she knew he was regarding her imperiously, dismissively. "You can't be right."

"So, Emperor Vader was wrong?" she asked.

"Emperor Vader is never wrong. You would do well to remember it."

"It seems like you're the one who's forgotten it, Kylo Ren."

It wasn't that she wanted him to be right. It wasn't that she wanted to stay here. But it was the first time in this entire conversation where she felt, for even a brief flicker of a moment, that she'd managed to capture the upper hand in this discussion. His entire body stiffened beneath his cloak; she watched as he flexed and unfixed his hands before taking off for the door.

"You will remain here. You will become my Empress, as The Force and as Emperor Vader commands. These are my chambers. I will find something more suitable for you. Stay here until then."

What happened next, she would never be able to explain. He went for the access panel that would free him from this room, but the air tightened around her lungs until she said the one thing dominating her thoughts.

"Take off the mask," she exclaimed.

"What?"

She scrambled for some kind of explanation. Crossing her arms over her chest, she held her ground. "If I'm to be captured here, I need to know the face of my captor."

Kylo Ren did not turn around. He didn't leave either. "Prisoners do not make demands."

"You've seen my face," she said, braver than she felt. "Show me yours."

Slowly, impossibly slowly, he moved to face her once again. For the first time, she couldn't identify the balance of the room, if it was light or dark, warm or cold, promising or deadly. Instead, it crackled, sparking at her skin and shocking her heart into overtime.

"Come here," he commanded.

Fear paralyzed her. Taking a single step forward felt more difficult and more terrifying than crossing an ocean of stars on foot.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come closer."

He extended his gloved hand towards her, an invitation. The knots forming in her shoulders and just behind her knees keeping her paralyzed began to loosen at the sound of his voice. This time, she knew she wasn't imagining things. He had softened.

Or, if he hadn't softened, he was exhausted. Too exhausted to fight her any more. It was the voice of surrender.

Tentatively, she moved her soft sandboots across the carpet, stepping forward until she was close enough to count the tiny chips in his helmet, battle scars from years of fighting The Emperor's battles. Now, she was invading his space, so close he could reach out and toss her across the room or rip off his helmet and kiss her. The possibilities of their proximity were endless.

When he was satisfied with her closeness, he first went to work on his gloves, slowly, finger by finger, removing them until the bare skin of his hands presented themselves to her. So, he was a man after all. A strange warmth of relief tinged the tension pooling in her belly.

She'd asked for him to take his mask off, yet, as he reached up to remove it, her breast filled with a cocktail of excitement and fear, of anticipation and dread. A hiss and the mask depressurized. He slipped it away from his face, tucking it in the crook of one of his elbows.

Yes, he was human. And he was magnificent. He stole her breath right out of her lungs.

But it was nothing compared to what came next. Their eyes locked. And she recognized him. He was the man with pretty eyes. The man with the sad eyes. He was the one she'd seen in the vision in Vader's mask.

It was as if her heart shredded in that moment. The man she'd dreamed of was Kylo Ren.

Then, something strange happened. With his free hand, Kylo Ren reached up for her face, his fingertips ghosting along her skin, grazing, but not quite touching, until the pads of his fingers came to rest just at her temple. The connection between them was instant, an exploding star suddenly reforming and being made whole.

"Do you know?" Kylo whispered, his eyes searching hers.

"Know what?"

His pink lips parted. The ghost of his breath dusted her cheek. And just as quickly as he'd sparked their connection, he broke it again.

"Nothing." He placed his helmet back on his head. Rage flooded the room. "There. Are you satisfied?"

Reeling from the spell she'd fallen under, still caught up in the mist of her memories, of the terror that she'd seen him in Vader's eyes in the Hangar, of the beauty of his eyes and the warmth she saw lurking behind them…She barely managed a dumbstruck nod.

"I'll send for you later."

Just like that, Kylo Ren disappeared, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again. She was to become The Empress, the wife of the fearsome Kylo Ren. She'd been told her purpose, told she wouldn't be harmed, told that The Force had brought her here…She should have been satisfied with that knowledge.

But no. She'd asked him to take off his mask. And in doing so, she'd ruined the one defense she had against him: that he was a monster. Suddenly, the frenetic shifting of light and dark she sensed around him made sense. He wasn't a monster. He just wanted the world to think him one.

That's the new chapter! Thank you all for your support on the last one. I can't wait to hear your thoughts now that they've met! Please leave a review and let me know what you think!