Author's Note: Thank you, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! It's like unwrapping a Christmas gift each time I get a notification :D Wishing all my fantastic readers a very Merry Christmas!

After stripping from the waist down, soaking her leg in gelatinous goo for fifteen minutes, and then lying torturously still as a medical droid worked on her for another half hour, Rey was relieved when she could finally test her leg. Between Ben's healing and the best medical care First Order money could buy, she could actually put weight on it now.

Ben had left her in the care of the medical staff before heading to the Finalizer's command bridge to give more instruction on the announcement tomorrow and to ensure a smooth transition of power. There were also several ongoing conflicts in the Outer Rim which continued to demand careful allocation of troops and resources, and while Hux was the primary military strategist, Ben didn't want to allow him too much autonomy in the decision-making.

So Rey followed one of the medics who was tasked with showing Rey her quarters – a burly, blonde woman with an angled bob cut.

The medic cast an anxious glance over her shoulder and Rey imagined the woman had already heard something about her. As Kylo Ren's right hand, she would just have to get used to the staring.

They passed through corridors and hallways. Up one lift and into another, all waxed floors and cold metal walls, until they finally reached her room. The woman keyed in a code on the panel and the doors whisked open.

The medic turned stiffly to address her. "I have called for the hygiene staff to assist you in your preparations as instructed. Good day, ma'am." She nodded curtly, retreating down the hallway as fast as she possibly could.

Hygiene staff? What in the blazes was that? She hoped it wasn't as… personal as it sounded.

Rey entered her quarters which were as sparse and sterile as the rest of the ship. There was a single bed along one wall and a closet, built in book case, mirror, and drawers – all steel of course – along the other. At the rear of the space was a doorway to the refresher.

She hardly had time to sit before a tinny knock sounded from the door.

Grudgingly, Rey answered. "Come in."

The doors slid open to reveal a thin, sharp featured man with glossy brown hair parted to the side. His First Order garb was unlike any she'd seen before. His charcoal suit was tailored to the perfect fit, and were those coat tails draping behind his jacket?

He sprang into the space with a gait that almost seemed choreographed.

"Good evening, my lady," he said, bowing deeply. "I am called Quinn. I've been assigned to help you with your public appearance tomorrow."

My lady?

Rey had to stifle a laugh. This man was the last person she expected in a place like this. Quinn seemed like some vestige of another era where important men and women sipped exotic drinks at balls and gossiped about the affairs of other aristocrats.

"Please call me, Rey," she said before raising an eyebrow, leaning forward. "You are, the hygiene staff?" she asked.

He sighed haughtily. "I prefer to call what I do, personal artistry." Light steps carried him closer and he looked her up and down. "And you could do with a little… sculpting," he said, twisting the last word along with his lip into a devious smile.

Rey was already resigned to the fact that she probably looked exactly how she felt… ratty, worn, and hung out to dry. Quinn had his hands full if he hoped to turn her into an Empress by tomorrow morning.

Quinn stood eye to eye with her, a shadow of a smile lingering on his face, before he plucked some tools from his pocket and began measuring her. Waist, shoulders, height, chest – he wrapped her with tape, tugged her arms, and pulled at the scraps of her remaining clothes.

Rey shifted uncomfortably under his scrupulous attention and attempted to make small talk to fill the awkward silence. "How do you come to find yourself here, Quinn?"

He tensed, ever so slightly before responding. "Though my time here on the Finalizer has been brief, I have been in service on a number of Resurgent-Class vessels, my lady. I don't remember a time when I wasn't serving, the First Order."

"Is your family part of the First Order, too?"

Immediately after the words spilled out of her mouth, she wished she could pick them back up again.

"I do not know, my lady."

Of course he didn't. It was a stupid question. So many First Order recruits were taken from their families as young children.

Quinn held his tools just a little tighter as he finished his work. Rey attempted to keep their conversation light for the remainder of their time together that evening. He left briefly, "to place an order for more appropriate clothing," he told her. Then he returned to see to her nails, her hair, her skin, clipping and scrubbing at her many callouses, before instructing her to bathe.

"I will be back in the morning," he said, offering a sweeping bow in her direction. "Good night, my lady."

When Rey went to the rear of her quarters and spotted the Sonic 'fresher, she had to stop herself from wishing for real water instead of the dry shower she would get aboard the ship tonight. She shook her head at her own self-centered desires. She should be delighted with this treatment. Who was she to deserve to even live when so many others today had died.

You are no one, he had said. That first part had been Kylo Ren, cutting her down, trying to force her into panic.

But not to me. But the last part, she knew now, had been Ben trying to grasp for her in the dark. She ached for the touch of his mind. Of his hand, of his…

She shook her head. Dangerous thoughts, she told herself.

She needed to focus on what was to come. She needed to strike the right chord with the First Order tomorrow and cast a presence of control and power, while still offering a promise to those who really mattered – a promise that perhaps, something could be different. She wanted to offer a tiny sliver of hope for the hopeless, but one bad step and the whole galaxy would be watching.

After a careful wash in the 'fresher, Rey sank back onto the bed.

She spent the rest of the evening relishing the feel of being truly clean. How many times had she lain alone on nights like this, greasy from scavenging, injured and aching for the kind of medical attention she'd received tonight? With her friends lying in cells somewhere nearby, she knew she didn't deserve any of this. Guilt washed over her, but she tried to push it away. It was for a reason. All of this, for a purpose. To minimize the suffering in the galaxy, to loosen the grip of terror – this would take time.

As she drifted toward sleep, her mind jumped at every sound. She would rouse only slightly, imagining the person she wanted to see standing tall in the doorway, only to find there was no one there. When sleep finally took her, she became completely encased in its firm hold. For the first night in a long time, Rey did not dream.

Quinn appeared at her door early, carrying a bundle of fine black fabric in his arms. He helped her get dressed first. She thought it might be awkward having a man help her with such an activity, but he was ever the seasoned professional. After the dress was arranged just so, he spent what felt like an eternity gathering her hair into an intricately braided up-do before finishing with a touch of make-up.

He gave a her a satisfied once over and bid her good day, turning in a whirl of coattails, leaving her alone to gaze at the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes, lined with black and shadowed in silvers, reflected a cool ferocity as she let her gaze trail down to the dress. Its tight-fitting bodice hugged her hips before sweeping into loose plaits of silky, black fabric. The front collar of the over-coat framed her chin and cut into a steep V-shaped neckline. The whole look was sharp, yet delicate, giving her the regal intensity of a leader. In all the years back on Jakku, she'd never touched fabric so soft, let alone worn anything close to this fine. She didn't even have a mirror then, only broken glass and polished steel collected from her scavenging trips. She couldn't believe it, but standing here looking at herself, she actually felt…

"Beautiful."

Her hand shot out, reflexively drawing her lightsaber from the bookshelf into her hand. A familiar voice let out a low chuckle behind her and heat rose to her cheeks. She hadn't heard him enter, she'd been so distracted.

"Don't you know how to knock?" she asked, feigning insult at his apparent lack of understanding of privacy.

When she turned toward the doorway, she had to employ every ounce of self-control to keep from gawking too obviously at the figure before her. She swallowed, allowing her eyes to rove over him. Though she knew she should be trying for non-chalance, she couldn't ignore such a change in his outward appearance. Ben's shadowed smile was there, but buried deeper now underneath the guise of his newest persona, Emperor Kylo Ren.

Longer robes swept the floor as he moved into her room. They were tailored not for fighting but for conveying a sense of fear and awe. Over his broad shoulders he wore a black cloak accented with scarlet trim, gathered and sweeping over one side, creating an air of lethal grace. He wore no mask but his own, and as he entered, he displayed it for her – aloof and uncaring, but with a frosty bite that promised reckoning.

Then, he allowed the mask to drop, and it was Ben Solo standing before her, biting his lip as he drank her in.

"Beautiful," he repeated, a strand of wavy, black hair falling over his eye. She had to bite back the impulse to reach out and touch it, to run her fingers through it.

Rey ignored the knot forming in her throat. "You already said that," she said, trying to deflect his compliment, acknowledging his flattering words would only intensify the wild beating of her heart.

He raised an eyebrow. "The junk traders never knew what they had back on Jakku."

She scowled half-heartedly. "You are positively intolerable," she said.

"How will you ever manage?" he teased.

Rey was pretty certain he was flirting and it surprised her. She hadn't been sure how Ben was going to react once he was back in his own familiar territory, but it didn't seem as if much had changed. They'd grown closer after he'd helped her back on Crait.

She smiled, wishing for him to take her hand again, wanting to feel his skin against hers, to pick up where they left off. But he looked over his shoulder, as if hearing something out in the hall, before turning back. He was jumpy – distracted.

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and picked at the seam of his glove. His thoughts were now far away from them. She sat beside him and he spoke, his tone all business. "We need to prepare for this announcement."

First, he outlined what they would say about Snoke's death. It had actually been Hux's idea to blame it on a traitor in the Praetorian Guard, which made Rey uneasy. Any idea of Hux's would have to be examined very closely. She couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him and no matter how much she'd like to try that experiment…

Still, Ben had a point. Though there would be questions asked, this story would be easier to force-feed to the masses than the truth – that Kylo Ren had betrayed his master. If word of such a thing spread, the Knights of Ren would come sniffing around and everyone would have betrayal on their lips. They would have to toe an even more dangerous line.

Ben assured her this plan would be safer – blame it on a disgruntled Praetorian guard and plant a fake history of gradually escalating "signs" of his discontent. They needed someone to take the fall. Hux had already collected some intelligence on one of the guards that made him a logical choice.

Second, if anyone asked why Rey was onboard the Supremacy that day, she would answer that she was responding to Snoke's summons. He was planning to elevate her to apprentice alongside Ben. The only ones who would possibly reject the idea would be The Knights of Ren, and Ben swore to handle them quickly. They would argue that dual apprenticeship was planned by Snoke, therefore, a dual ascension should follow after his death.

They settled on a few other minor details and Ben announced the time had grown near for them to head to the observation deck, where they'd arranged for the transmission to take place.

He stood, stashed his gloves in his belt, and took her hand. Warmth fluttered in her chest at his touch and slowly spread to her limbs.

Why was she reacting to him like this? She shouldn't want him so close all the time.

Rey snuck glances at him from the corner of her eye as they navigated the corridors, but his face divulged nothing. He'd donned the mask of Emperor Kylo Ren again and if he was having the same feelings she was, he wasn't letting it show.

"Won't they see this…" she glanced down at their interlaced fingers, "as a sign of weakness?"

"An Emperor and Empress should eventually be bound to one other physically, shouldn't they?" he asked. "We are presenting a sign that we are willingly coming together in this political rise to power. This is an engagement as much as an announcement of ascension."

"Ben Solo." She pulled him to a stop, stepping in front of him to study the uneasy expression on his face. "Either I just heard you wrong or you just offered up the least romantic wedding proposal in the history of the galaxy."