Note: Okay. This is going to be a long author's note, I'm sorry. But I think it's important to address this.

I know we all figured this out in the comments, but I wanted to take a moment to reiterate something here:

These characters don't represent perfect ideals. Or completely imperfect/broken beings either. There is nuance to every person, every situation, every story, every... everything. You know?

There is also this thing called 'unreliable narrator' in which the character whose point of view we're in might have a different, imperfect view of the story at hand. Of what they are witnessing, experiencing, feeling... even their view on the past. And their experiences in the past coloring how they view the present or future. For example, last chapter the characters described their past. This is THEIR version of the past - it doesn't mean it is an omnipotent, omniscient, whatever, view of the event(s), seen from afar and able to judge with perfect neutrality what happened. I am a graduate student in history - this NEVER happens, okay?

And another thing! You, as the readers, don't necessarily know where I am going with this story. A character might seem to be going in a certain direction... may even go there... but it doesn't mean that they will remain there.

I also believe in imperfect characters. In imperfect stories, imperfect endings, imperfect relationships, imperfect understanding, imperfect everything... I want to create a story that is real. That a reader can read and then go: "Wow, okay, that felt like it actually happened; that these characters could be me or someone else I know. That ending was realistic, because not everything got resolved. Wow."

Often fanfiction is written as a complete fix-it. Fanfiction authors want to address every single thread that has come unraveled from the tapestry of the story written by the original author/screenplay author. These fanfiction authors want a perfect ending, like in Disney storybooks or something...

But life isn't like that.

I was telling one of my long-time readers, who is also my friend, Julia, that some of my favorite characters are the vastly imperfect ones. Such as Macbeth (or Lady Macbeth was Julia's favorite), Garek or Gul Dukat from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, or Tony Soprano from the Sopranos, or Rand al'Thor from The Wheel of Time, or Walter White from Breaking Bad... even Romeo & Juliet when you view the play as a tragedy and not as a romance. They are enticing and exciting characters. Exquisite in their incompleteness and troubles and tragedies, and the pitfalls within their minds.

I use this quote for the title of one of my other stories, Delicious Ambiguity, where what I said above applies perfectly (imperfect ending, imperfect people, imperfect interactions with those around them), but it also applies really well for this story:

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity."
― Gilda Radner

Rey stared at her grandfather, her shock at what he'd just said increasing with every passing second. He stared back at her, his expression growing more and more troubled but before he could speak Rey whirled away and began to pace the length of his study.

Her red skirt flared around her ankles as she spun at the end of each pass, the fabric puffing out with each kick of Rey's furious strides. Her hands tore through the pins holding her hair off of her face in an elegant twist and then she drove her fingers over and over again through the curled strands.

She had dressed well in anticipation of attending the final negotiations later that morning, wanting to impress upon those attending exactly who she was and the power that she now held―her aunt Tivona had certainly been rubbing off on her, along with the knowledge she had derived from the lessons with the countess. Yet now, after being called to the King in the early morning, Rey felt nothing like the powerful crown princess that she was supposed to be.

She felt undone, raw, emotional, and disbelieving of what she had just heard.

Finally, Rey turned back to face her grandfather. There were a few yards of distance between them, but Rey felt as if there was much more between them now.

She had trusted him.

That would show her for trusting anyone...

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Rey said, her voice icy but utterly calm.

Abimilech drew himself up to his full height, though his shoulders were still slightly stooped with age. "You didn't need to know before now," he stated.

She didn't need to know she was to be married to Kylo kriffing Ren?

"Why?" Rey let the hurt she was feeling color her tone. Her grandfather's eyes flinched at the sound, but he kept his gaze firmly on her as she spoke. "Why wouldn't I need to know that I was to be married? I should have been told as soon as you started these negotiations! If you were worried I might have thrown a fit, you could've given me the benefit of the doubt. You didn't know me―I may even have surprised you and agreed to it all from the very beginning if you had just treated me like an adult and not a child."

Abimilech blinked before the force of Rey's righteous anger. He sighed and brought one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he did so. Rey gave him the time to gather his thoughts, but her shoulders were heaving with the force of her breaths and she was close to darting from the room, gathering Chewie and BB-2, and high-tailing it out of there.

"I keep forgetting that you were not raised here, U'Rey―that you were lost to us and grew up on your own on Jakku. I do not mean to remind you of the pain of your past, but children who grow up in the Itamaran system amongst the nobility know from a young age that they will likely be betrothed. It is just how things are." His gaze flicked to the portrait of him and his wife in their younger years, and Rey's expression softened slightly, her heart squeezing at the emotions playing across his features, as she looked at the painting with him.

"My marriage was arranged, as was your parents', and both of your uncles' marriages as well―Raonaid has been betrothed as well, I believe you heard. It is simply so common that... well, I suppose I didn't think much of it; I assumed that you already knew."

Rey shook her head stiffly, looking down at the toes of her slippers peeking out from beneath the vibrant gold thread that hemmed her red dress. She had been blindsided by this information but, she supposed, it did not surprise her that there were still arranged marriages in certain parts of the galaxy, especially incorporated into treaty negotiations. Jakku had their own version of the tradition, but it was nothing like this.

"That doesn't answer my question, grandfather," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm, patient, and respectful―not accusing, like she wished. "You say I didn't need to know beforehand. Even if I had known that an arranged marriage was possible, why would you not tell me?"

Instead of answering her right away, her grandfather made his way to his desk chair and settled into it. He took a drink of water from the glass on the desk, and only then did he turn back to address Rey. "I wished to work out all of the details before I bothered you with the particulars, U'Rey. I wished to handle everything myself―no one else knew except for my negotiators and myself, along with the First Order's negotiators―just in case everything fell apart and none of my plans panned out."

"What―?" Rey was about to unleash on her grandfather and damn the consequences, damn his love for her and her love and respect for him, when there was a loud knock on the door.

Two loud thumps, as commanding as a knock could sound―and then nothing.

Rey crossed her arms over her chest, the sheer gold of her loose sleeves doing little to soothe the goosebumps that had flared up across her skin. She knew who was on the other side of that door. She had realized his presence in the Force the moment the knocks had distracted her from her anger.

Rey wasn't sure if she could face him. Had he known? Surely he must have...

Rey's mind was swirling, nearly making her dizzy with the intensity of her thoughts. Had he wanted this? When was he told? Had he known it was her―?

"Come in," Abimilech called, straightening within his chair and lacing the fingers of his hands over top of the desk.

Rey could only spare him a single glance before her wide eyes were drawn towards the door.

Kylo Ren had woken early even though he had only been able to sleep fitfully for four hours. His body was used to this sort of abuse, however, and he barely thought anything of it as he went about his daily ablutions, preparing for the first day of negotiations in the presence of all involved parties.

Hux was to arrive for the late morning session after a holo-conference with other Generals that had been planned for weeks now.

Until then, Kylo was in charge of the delegation―even though he had not once attended a single treaty meeting.

He dressed absently in a long, deep blue coat, buttoning up the antiqued silver buttons over top of his black undershirt, trousers, and boots. Kylo's mind had not once stopped thinking about Rey―even when he was frowning at how odd it felt to dress in garb reminiscent of childhood finery he had been happy to abandon for his day-to-day knightly trousers and robe, she had been in the back of his mind, his thoughts flicking back to her every few moments.

He could not believe his luck.

Everything seemed so surreal―he had been thinking of her nearly non-stop since he had met her; since they had dueled. He had wanted her, craved her, even when he had been told that he would be marrying another.

He knew that he could have both.

She―Rey―was the only one that mattered to him anymore. He had wanted to train her, help her, bring her to her full potential and revel in the power that she held... but he had also been filled with a deep desire to possess her; body, mind, and soul.

And he wished to be possessed in return.

He wished to be hers.

And here she was―about to be his bride.

A slow smile spread across his features as he exited his chambers, foregoing breakfast as was his custom. He could sense the shock and nervousness of the officers in the antechamber who were getting ready for the day in their own ways. He couldn't blame them―it wasn't often that they saw their Commander without his mask, and to see him smile... even he admitted ruefully to himself that that was an entirely rare occasion, and likely looked rather scary to anyone who was unused to seeing his scarred visage smiling of all things.

As he approached the King's study, hoping to catch the man before the negotiations began later on, he heard a muffled feminine voice coming from within the room. Two guards in the King's colors stood stoically to either side of the doorway, and a third―Rey's guard, his mind supplied―leaned against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. He glanced at their swords, recalling what he had learned of Itamar's prowess in battle, both space and personal, and sized them up critically.

He knew he could take them, but without the aid of the Force it would be a close thing.

All three eyed him, their gazes zeroing in nearly at the same moment on the thigh holster that held his lightsaber. Kylo kept his hands still, fingers spread, and nowhere near his weapon, a placid look gracing his scarred features. He had no quarrel with them, and they knew it.

They were all allies here―or as close as the First Order came with an independent system. But no, there was no reason for any of them to distrust the other.

Not presently.

"Commander." Rey's guard greeted him as he pushed himself off of the wall. "It is good to finally meet you. We have heard many things about you." The man bowed slightly towards him, and Kylo raised a brow―the man's rank must be higher than Kylo had originally thought.

The guard must have understood what Kylo was thinking, for the next thing he said was, "We have not been formally introduced but I am Lieutenant Miron Tavi―I am also the Count of Kyreen, and the princess' blood uncle. I would not normally introduce myself as such, but I believe that the information would benefit you," he finished gracefully, inclining his head in a slight nod towards Kylo.

Kylo returned the greeting with a slight bow of his own, though much shallower than even the Count's. As a prince... well, there were certain protocols and etiquette that was ingrained in him from a young age; hard to shake in their entirety. "It would... thank you." The words sounded off from his lips, but they were proper in this circumstance.

Even Kylo Ren could do proper when the occasion called for it.

"Are they―?" Kylo started to ask.

"Go ahead," Miron replied, nodding towards the door. "Honestly, they've been arguing for too long now and could use an interruption." The other two guards flashed a glare at Miron, but did not comment.

His words caught Kylo's interest. "What are they arguing over?" he inquired, brushing his dark hair off of his forehead with a gloved hand.

Miron's gaze sharpened as it caught and held Kylo's own. "The princess... she and I were not made aware of some of the particulars of this treaty, nor of the ties to you," he said somberly.

Kylo felt ice fill his veins―shock... and rage. Rage that he might have found Rey and lost her in the same twenty-four hour period... and rage that she had not been told. He refused to marry anyone without their full consent, and this... this was going beyond anything he had thought could occur.

Narrowing his eyes, Kylo took a step towards the doors, his body starting to quiver and his mind completely overtaken by the need to take this out on something―or someone. He clenched his fist once, twice, three times before lifting it to pound at the door emphatically with two firm knocks.

As soon as he was allowed entrance, he swept in, closing the doors behind him with the Force. He assessed the room as he usually did, noting a guard in the right-hand corner nearest the door, and then settled his gaze upon the King... and his intended.

He completely forewent his bow to Abimilech and Rey, the tremors of anger within his mind demanding he speak before he lashed out with his weapon―if it were anyone else, he would have done just that, and dealt with the consequences later.

He took in Rey's stricken face―she attempted unsuccessfully to cover the expression up as soon as she saw him―before sweeping his eyes down the beautiful red and gold dress she wore. It was much more regal than the beige dress he'd seen her in yesterday, and her skin and hair was clean and glowing with health and beauty...

He snapped his eyes back to King Abimilech. "You didn't tell her of the marriage? Why?" he demanded.

The old man narrowed his eyes at Kylo, but otherwise did not move an inch from his position at his desk.

Rey took a tentative step towards him. Her hand was twitching towards her lower back where her saber rested, but she did not appear to be contemplating attacking him just yet. Kylo kept his body as still as possible, relaxing it slightly so as not to seem threatening to her.

This was much more like how he'd imagined their reunion to go, even with the severity of the topic hanging over their heads―not like yesterday's encounter at all. That had been a surprise for all involved. No... this was much more to his liking.

"How long have you known?" Rey asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She was speaking to him; she wasn't trying to kill him... she was asking him a question and waiting for an answer―from him. It was more than he'd expected of their first meeting. His heart thumping, he answered her honestly. "I've known since I was a child."

The little pinprick of light within his mind that was her echoed the emotions that he could see crossing her features as she took in that information. She couldn't find any words, but he could practically see her fascinating and quick mind whirring, trying to understand everything.

"You... You've known since you were a child? How?" she finally asked, her voice sounding slightly frantic as she demanded answers from him.

Kylo shot a glare at the King, who sat placidly by, leaving the conversation between the two younger royals. He took a step towards Rey, watching intently for her to show any signs of discomfort or fear at his increased closeness. She showed none, though it wasn't as if she didn't notice―this girl... she noticed everything.

It was one of the things that had drawn him to her.

He took another step towards her until he was an arm's span away. "Rey..."

She scowled at him. "Just answer the question!" she snapped.

Kylo frowned in reply, though he hardly blamed her. "When I was younger, and you―apparently―barely born, my... mother," he bit out, "initiated a cradle betrothal between the both of us, which would tie our two houses or factions together."

"Alderaan..." Rey murmured, a frown furrowing her brows.

"Exactly," Kylo agreed. "When the princess... when you disappeared, the betrothal was not nullified for whatever reason, which allowed for it to be reinitiated once you were discovered again. Unfortunately for the Resistance, the contract was only attached to my name, not to their cause. There is much to gain for Itamar―and for the Order―with this treaty, a marriage acting as the binding agent for it in its entirety."

Rey waved a hand as if in dismissal of all that, her gaze lost in the space between them. He'd never had such a perfect, uninterrupted opportunity to observe the planes and curves of her face and body―not since he'd waited for her to awake back on Starkiller, strapped to the interrogation chair. He let her think as he watched her, his eyes flicking only once towards the shrewd but quiet King sitting in his chair.

"Why didn't she tell me?" she asked, finally latching her gaze onto his. The look of utter betrayal on her face made him want to comfort her; to wrap her in his arms and protect her to the best of his abilities. "Why didn't he?"

Kylo knew exactly who she was referring to. "I don't know." He had no good answer for her.

He wished he did, even if only to offer her some peace of mind.

He himself had long ago stopped pondering the logic behind his mother and his uncle's actions.

Rey looked as if she couldn't quite believe the soft tone that was coming from him, or the soft expression that Kylo knew was gracing his features at that very moment. He was angry on her behalf... but he couldn't hold back the tenderness he was feeling for her. She brought out feelings of protectiveness and possessiveness in him like no one ever had.

He would make this all go away if he could.

Kylo knew he would hate himself for this later... but he also knew that he would hate himself even more if he didn't make sure that she knew all of the relevant details. He needed to take care of her, even if that would make attaining her favor that much harder. "You are aware that you have to consent to this marriage, even if there is already a contract in place? Both Itamaran law and First Order law requires this and there is no legal way that you or your system can be penalized for obeying said laws."

No legal way, he repeated to himself, bitterly.

Rey stared at him, her jaw going slightly slack as she processed the information. Her gaze softened as she continued to look at him, and she seemed to almost view him kindly...

Force, was she gorgeous. The red and gold was stunning on her, enhancing the tan of her skin and the freckles covering what he could see of her body, and the cut of the bodice allowing him to admire the shape of her as a woman for the first time―even her dress yesterday hadn't been quite as form-fitting as the top of this one. Yet it was her face and hair that kept him entranced, and the force of her personality.

That... that was what he wanted; what he needed.

He was beginning to grow concerned, his anger spiking again at the thought that she really hadn't been told that she could dissent to the marriage, when she finally spoke. "I was told that, yes. It was as an explanation to my concerns at my young cousin's betrothal. I..." she shut her mouth, a pained expression crossing her features, and Kylo took another involuntary step towards her. No more than two feet spanned the distance between them, but she barely even noticed.

He had not been this close to her, without a negative reaction from her... well, not ever. Delicious warmth thrummed through his nerves, and he stared intently at her, memorizing every single one of her features and not caring in the least that there was an audience.

Kylo wasn't even aware that he had been leaning towards her, inch by inch, until he startled slightly back as she turned towards her grandfather and squared her shoulders, tilting her chin up just so—and yes, of course she was royalty... he really should have recognised the air of regality that surrounded her sooner.

"What would you think of me if I said no to this, ruining all of these plans that you made without my knowledge―plans you made using me as a bargaining chip; as a way into negotiations?"

Kylo couldn't quite hide the surprise that crossed his features. He was continuously surprised by how smart she was, for her to have picked up on that fact. A burst of pride swelled within his chest for a woman he had only the flimsiest of claims to.

Her grandfather did not stand.

Of course, there was no need for him to do so as the King, but Kylo found himself cursing the old man for a self-righteous, indignant fool. He would have stood out of respect if Rey were his granddaughter, no matter how angry he was at the woman―there were some things that were done no matter the feelings of the ones involved.

Abimilech answered her, his eyes showing care for Rey... but also a hardness that Kylo recognized as the mark of the good ruler he knew the man to be―what had made him incomparable among the other independent systems. His voice carried the same mix as he met her gaze. "If that is your will, we will accept it. It is law. But what it also is, is undutiful. I expect you to be no such thing. Our family has always taken their duty to our people very seriously and placed the needs of the people before our own."

Kylo felt a flash of rage―so similar to the way his own anger often felt that it made his lips curl up infinitesimally―billow out from Rey through the small, but very present, connection that ran between them before she slammed a lid on her emotions. Her demeanor turned icy as she curtsied very curtly towards her grandfather and then turned to face Kylo.

Rey's gaze flitted from top to bottom and up again, as if taking in his appearance for the first time that morning. A lick of appreciation graced her features and Kylo felt his mouth go dry, blood pounding in his ears, even as she said the last words he'd ever expected hear from her.

"Thank you. I'm glad that someone here has my best interests at heart." Her gaze had met and held his steadily, and he could see that she really meant it, surprising as it might be to her―and to him―that she did.

She was thanking him? Perhaps... perhaps winning her over would be easier than he'd ever thought it would be. Perhaps everything he wanted could still be his. He wanted her... but he wanted her to want him as well. If this treaty fell through... maybe there was still hope.

The seeds of trust―or at least the mending of trust―had been sown.

Nodding towards him, she broke his gaze, a faint flush edging onto her cheeks.

Perhaps she'd caught that thought... He smirked inwardly, deciding to test out a theory of his―a theory that had grown since he'd kissed her hand and she'd reacted so gloriously to the touch.

As she made to pass him, he pressed the tips of his fingers lightly into the crook of her elbow; just enough to suggest she halt. Not caring one whit for the old man or guard who could see, Kylo Ren leaned down until his lips were a breath away from her ear. He let them ghost over her skin as he whispered, "Either way, marriage or no, I want you."

He couldn't keep the smug grin off of his face at the sound of her startled gasp, her breast brushing against his arm and causing his breath to catch in his throat for a brief moment as she rushed past him and out the doors, fleeing from him... Fleeing from Kylo Ren.

Fleeing from the desire he was now sure she felt for him as well.