Part II for this story has been outlined, and I will begin writing it shortly.
The first chapter will be uploaded in a few weeks, I think, depending on how quickly I manage to get the chapters written and edited. I'll not be updating until the majority of the story is written, in any case.
I will be uploading another story that will contain deleted scenes from PI and its sequels-I'll upload the first chapter of that story next Friday, after PI's final chapter has been uploaded. The first chapter will be Rey's first night with Poe-the story will, therefore, be rated E.
Also, I'll take requests; any scene you're really curious about, let me know, and I'll see what I can do :D
Thank you to everyone for the support and comments! You guys are amazing.
Love, Annaelle
PS Thanks to Juulna (MeaghanM) for beta'ing and dragging me through the more difficult chapters :D You're the best, darling!
Part IX
Starkiller Base
"Those who do not move, do not notice their chains."
—Rosa Luxemburg
Kylo Ren finds that he much prefers the serene solitude of Moraband to the crowded beehive of activity that is Starkiller Base. They have not even landed on the Base yet and he can already sense that whatever peace he had found during his lessons with Rey will be gone the moment they touch down. It infuriates and frustrates him.
He glares at Starkiller Base as it comes into view, and winces when he immediately feels an intense pressure on his mind—a persistent tug that will soon evolve into crippling pain if left unanswered.
"The Supreme Leader is calling for me," he tells Rey, reaching for his mask and tugging it on. "Once we land, I will be expected to go to him immediately. You will return your belongings to your quarters, and drop mine in my chambers—your fingerprints should let you into my private quarters. After, I expect you to go to the training facilities for the Knights of Ren and train with the recruits. Focus on sparring and your sequences."
He's briefly overwhelmed by a flash of annoyance—that almost certainly originated in his little scavenger's mind—before she shuts him out again and nods tersely. "Yes, Master," she replies, not once taking her eyes from the control panels before her.
He nearly chuckles—she amuses him greatly when she is torn between wanting to slap him and wanting to respect him—but manages to quell the urge and fastens the clasp on the back of his mask.
Rey has, in the weeks they had spent on Moraband, grown immensely—both in strength and maturity.
No longer does she challenge him on every order he gives her, and no longer does she fight him every step of the way. Something in her mind has shifted during the time they had spent in solitude, and he can only applaud whatever it was.
He is certain the Supreme Leader will approve of her learning curve, and he is hopeful to earn his own Master's approval—if he succeeds in training Rey, Kylo is almost certain Snoke will allow him to take the trials to finish his own training as well.
He does wonder, worriedly, what the Supreme Leader will say of the fledgling Force-bond that has developed between him and Rey on Moraband. It had been rather unexpected—one he had not foreseen at all, though he supposes he should have been prepared for the eventuality. Force-bonds, while rare, have been known to form between Masters and their Padawans.
He has already meditated on the matter, to determine when the Bond took root within their minds, and has found that the first seed was planted when he—accidentally—opened her mind to the Force. The time he has spent training with her on Moraband has only furthered the connection, and while he fears the Supreme Leader may see it as a weakness, he is certain that it will prove to be an immeasurable asset.
It will undoubtedly help Rey grow stronger much faster, and it will keep her safe in battle as well. She will be able to draw upon his experience and knowledge, and he knows that that will likely save both of their lives one day.
Of course, he is concerned about the things she may see in his mind, one day—but fortunately he has years left to prepare for that eventuality. Their Bond is still very much in its infantile stages, and it will take many years to develop into the kind of Bond where she would be able to see into his mind without him being able to shield his thoughts from her.
His mind quietens slightly when Rey lands their battered old C-wing on the landing platform.
He finds himself unable to move for a long moment, and he senses that Rey is reluctant to stand up and break the peaceful sphere they had created for themselves as well. "Be safe," he tells her stiffly, quite uncomfortable to be exposing his worry for her safety to her. "Call for me if anyone causes you any sort of trouble or discomfort."
She studies him carefully, and he has to consciously stop himself from fidgeting beneath her scrutiny. "I will," she finally replies, a soft smile tugging up the corners of her lips.
He nods tersely, wilfully ignoring his bodily and emotional response to his Apprentice's kind smile, before standing and exiting the shuttle as fast as he can without making a fool of himself. He finds he's allowed himself to grow far too fond of Rey already, and that he tends to share things with her that he shares with no one else—things he never meant to share with anyone else.
He has not forgotten his foolish slip-up when he mentioned his father's ship—nor has he quite recovered from the way it had hurt to see the horror and disgust in her eyes when she realized his true name and heritage.
He has not asked her much of her time in the Resistance, and the men she had been forced to bed—but he has a terrible feeling that his father is one of the men, despite the fact that Kylo knows his father hadn't touched one of the other girls in decades.
Not since Ben Solo had become Kylo Ren.
He had been careful to have their spies in the Resistance keep an eye on his parents, and for a long time, it had looked like his parents, at least, had learned their lesson after his so-called betrayal.
He hates to think that he may have been wrong after all—hates to think that losing their son had not shown his parents the error of their ways—hates to think that they will likely never change.
He is silently pleased that he is wearing his mask as he stalks past several squadrons of Stormtroopers that all stare at him as he stomps past them—he is not entirely certain he would be able to control his facial expression today, after several weeks of simply being. He had been unworried and comfortable on Moraband, well aware of the fact that his Apprentice would never judge him for losing his temper—she had developed quite a temper of her own, though her tantrums resulted in far less material damage and far more icy silences.
He stalks through the long hallway that leads to Snoke's throne room, deliberately ridding his mind of any and all fond memories of evenings spent talking and bantering with Rey. Kylo has been the Supreme Leader's Apprentice long enough to know that the man tolerates little in terms of affection, and if he, even for a second, suspected that Kylo's loyalty may not be fully his anymore, Kylo has no doubt that he would do whatever he could to dispose of the distraction.
Fortunately, Kylo has also become rather adept at hiding certain things from his Master.
He knows how to compartmentalize his thoughts and memories in such a way that the Supreme Leader will never know unless Kylo willingly shows him the memories.
His mind is therefore blissfully blank as he enters Snoke's dark, spacious chambers, and he feels little but carefully controlled anger and sadness, both ready to be used as fuel for his powers if needed. He is unsure what to expect of the Supreme Leader today—he is, honestly, not entirely sure what Snoke expects of him during a Resistance attack.
He sincerely doubts there is much he and Rey could do in an attack that the thousands of Stormtroopers could not—after all, no matter how powerful, he is only one man, and Rey is only one barely-trained girl. Even with all of his Knights, Kylo would not be much of an addition to a legion of Stormtroopers, and he is well aware of this fact.
"Kylo Ren." Snoke's deep voice echoes through the large, empty room, reverberating in his bones as he sinks into a reverent bow before his Master. "You returned faster than I thought you would. Your promptness will be remembered."
"You spoke of an impending attack," Kylo speaks evenly. "My Apprentice and I rushed back as soon as we could to stand at your side, as you commanded." He senses Snoke's acceptance of his words in his mind, and silently rises to his feet again, clasping his hands behind his back as he stands before his Master.
"Have your Knights made progress in the search for the map to Skywalker?" Snoke thunders, ringing loudly in Kylo's ears—and he wishes he had more positive news to report. Even their spies in the Resistance have yet to catch a glance of the map, despite Bo Ro Tara's persuasive talents.
"No, Master," he replies, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he speaks. "Fortunately, the Resistance has not made any further progress in locating the rest of the map either."
He can feel his Master's disapproval and anger radiating from him, even through the hologram.
"Your continuous failure is most disappointing, Kylo Ren," Snoke hisses, and Kylo bites his lower lip in an attempt to hide his flinch when Snoke purposefully pushes a wave of near-crippling pain through his mind. "Tell me your failure does not extend to your delightful Apprentice," Snoke continues. "I sensed her immense potential when she spared Hux's life so as to prolong his suffering."
Kylo is surprised by the sudden flare of possessiveness that surges through him at the mention of his young Apprentice, and he is certain Snoke sensed it as well. "She is strong, Master," he speaks proudly. "I have taught her sequences from several lightsaber forms, and she has taken to them like a fish to water. I believe you will be pleased with her progress."
He waits with bated breath as Snoke considers his words, and dares not show his relief—and dread—when Snoke announces, "Bring her to me at dawn tomorrow. I will inspect her mind myself."
Kylo swallows thickly before bowing his head in submission. "Of course, Master."
Before he or Supreme Leader Snoke can speak again, the doors swing open, and Kylo is absolutely stunned to recognize the shorter man's distinctive Force signature. He whirls around to stare at Hux—Colonel Hux—who looks as healthy as he ever has.
His blood boils when he realizes the man must have received excellent medical care, and the demotion hardly deserves that name—a single rank is not an appropriate punishment, in Kylo's eyes. Of course, if he had been the one to execute Hux's punishment, the man would not have survived in the first place—but he hadn't been able to deny the brilliance in Rey's plan.
It seems, however, that Hux had not even been imprisoned for his crimes.
He wonders why Snoke would allow a rapist to maintain such a high rank within the Order he created to flush out pathetic men that enjoy forcing themselves on innocent girls.
He wants to question Hux's presence, and wants to toss him against the wall until his skull splits open and leave him to die like the maggot he is. Before he can, however, Snoke speaks, his voice thunderous and strong—in a tone that brokers no argument.
"Colonel Hux. What news do you have for me?"
"Our spies in the Resistance have confirmed an attack on Starkiller Base is planned within the next forty-eight hours," Hux replies, coming to a slow stop beside Kylo.
Hux's mind is practically screaming his hatred at Kylo, and he has to consciously stop himself from reaching out and strangling the horrible man with his bare hands. He is thinking vile things about Rey, and Kylo is worried about the barely-subdued rage in the man's mind. He can scarcely believe Snoke has not picked up on the animosity in Hux's mind—much less that he has allowed the man to walk about the Base freely.
"Then they must be destroyed before they can execute the attack," Snoke says decisively.
"We have their location. We tracked their reconnaissance ship to the Ileenium system," Hux states pompously, and Kylo wants to crush him like the filthy maggot he is.
Snoke nods in approval, and a certain part in the back of Kylo's mind marvels at the fact that he is not at all repelled by the idea of his own flesh-and-blood being destroyed in said attack—in fact, he is far more nauseated and horrified at the inevitable prospect of having to feel an entire star system filled with people die again, before he pulls himself together and listens to his Master's strong voice.
"Good. Then we will crush them once and for all. Prepare the weapon."
"Master," Kylo steps forward again, eyes downcast as he attempts to formulate his next question respectfully. "Poe Dameron is almost certainly still on the Resistance Base. What of our promise to not harm the man? How will I keep my pledge to my Apprentice if we destroy the entire system?"
Snoke sneers at him, and Kylo barely resists the urge to flinch away from his Master. "Surely she has gotten over her foolish attachment to the filthy pilot that violated her. If not, I suggest you recondition her mind and tie her loyalty only to me. Do not disappoint me again, Kylo Ren." Kylo winces at the thinly veiled threat, but manages to compose himself.
The command to tie Rey's loyalty to Snoke rubs him the wrong way, sickens him even, and he does not wish to admit it to the Supreme Leader, but he views Rey as his. He cannot stand the idea of allowing Snoke to corrupt her mind as Kylo knows he once did his.
He'd rather have Rey's loyalty tied to him than to anyone else.
Unfortunately, this is not a concern he can verbalize in present company, and this knowledge only infuriates him further. "As you command, Master," he replies curtly, before turning on his heel and leaving the room, barely concealing the uncontrolled rage that simmers beneath the surface—his mood had been terrible to begin with, and he cannot quite deal with seeing the man that had harmed his Apprentice walking about freely.
And now he has to break the first promise he had ever made to her.
He does not like thinking of it, but Snoke forcing his hand into breaking a promise does make him wonder how many other promises the man will be willing to forsake in the name of the greater good, especially after witnessing the leniency Snoke had obviously granted Hux.
For the first time in years, he wonders if he has placed his faith and life in the right man's hands.
It is a disconcerting thought, and it only serves to enrage him further.
He stalks past numerous squadrons of Stormtroopers—most of which cower against the walls when he passes them—and a handful of officers, determined to get to his chambers and to let it out. His emotions have always been exceedingly difficult to control, and it has only become more difficult to do so as the years passed and as his strength in the Dark Side grew.
He feels much like the Force itself is crawling beneath his skin, itching and screaming to be freed and let out, before he bursts—Snoke had once told him that his moods were not at all unlike the unstable volcanoes on Mustafar. Unstable and prone to untimely and destructive outbursts, welling up from a deep, limitless reservoir hidden in the dark recesses of his mind—it is a description he has lived with for many years, and one he fears he will never be able to shake.
He is unsurprised to feel Rey's presence in his chambers when he enters them—feels comforted by her familiar Force signature, even—and wonders briefly if she will be insulted if he simply starts tossing things around without speaking to her first.
She gives him no chance to do anything like that, however, and starts babbling the moment he comes into view. She is curled up on the sofa—one of the only physical comforts he has allowed himself—with a cup of hot caf, her cloak and blaster in an untidy heap on the floor before her. He wonders vaguely if telling her she could come into his chambers had been a good idea, before he shakes the thought and attempts to focus on his little chatterbox of an Apprentice.
The realization that the desire to throw a tantrum had all but disappeared when he saw Rey vanishes instantly, too.
"…and then Zaja and Venamis showed me how to use a bowcaster! It's insanely powerful—I nearly fell over when I first shot it, but Venamis told me that's normal, because I'm not used to the backlash just yet. Oh, and then I sparred with Jacen and Bo-Ro-Tara for a while, and they're so fast! I don't think I'll ever be able to defeat someone that fast, but I know I have to—"
"Rey," he interrupts, doing his best not to sound exasperated as he removes his mask. "Slow down."
She stops talking abruptly, and her cheeks are stained with a lovely rosy color as she looks up at him. "I apologize, Master," she says bashfully, biting down on her full lower lip—he needs to force himself to not respond to the tantalizing sight. "I didn't mean to speak so candidly. I hope I did not offend you."
"Think nothing of it," he tells her tiredly as he sits down on the sofa beside her, taking care to push away any and all treacherous thoughts that give him reason to doubt the Supreme Leader and his wisdom. Kylo knows that difficult choices have to be made at times, in order to succeed, and he has no doubt that ordering the attack on the Ileenium system is one of those choices.
His Master would not senselessly kill thousands, if not millions, of people.
"What's wrong?" Rey's soft question snaps him from his thoughts, and he glowers at her, feeling somewhat irritated with himself for allowing some of his frustration and anger to bleed through his Bond with Rey.
"Nothing that should concern you," he snaps, refusing to acknowledge his own stricken response as she flinches away from him—his attachment to Rey is already jeopardizing his good standing with Supreme Leader Snoke, and it has caused him to doubt his Master, the man who had taken him in and cared for him, trained him and helped him become stronger, as well.
He is extremely uncomfortable with the instability that his foolish attachment is causing him, after years of dedicating his life to the Order. After years of knowing right from wrong in his world, Rey came in and destroyed everything he thought he knew.
He does not, however, enjoy the feeling of hurt that radiates from her. "I'm sorry," he sighs gruffly. "I did not mean to snap at you."
She says nothing in reply, her lower lip pushed out into a small pout—and Force help him suppress the sinful thoughts that arise within the relative privacy of his mind at the mere sight of that pout—as she settles comfortably once more against the arm of the sofa.
They sit in silence for a while as Kylo attempts to rein in the plethora of thoughts that run rampant through his mind—eventually, he resorts to a meditational technique his uncle had taught him, once upon a time. It is a technique he has not truly utilized in years, but he cannot deny it is still the only thing that truly allows him to settle his mind when it is at its busiest.
It is only after he has successfully cleared his mind that he realizes Rey is projecting intense fear and insecurity through their Bond, and it makes him feel distinctly uncomfortable—he strongly dislikes the feel and taste of her fear in his mind, and it takes him less than a minute to decide he will do whatever he can to ensure she will never feel those things again.
She is chewing on her lower lip when he turns to her, her cheeks still flushed, and staring straight ahead, obviously lost in thought.
"What's on your mind, Rey?" He asks softly, gently brushing his mind past hers, finding himself quite unwilling to startle her. She does jump a little when their minds connect, and her eyes are wide and surprised as they meet his.
"Nothing," she squeaks, though he knows she can tell he sees right through the lie.
He simply raises an eyebrow and peers at her intently. He needs not say anything, he knows—she will decide in her own time how to explain whatever issue it is that plagues her mind. He senses it is something that has been on her mind for quite some time, and he hopes he will be able to lay whatever it is to rest, so that she may focus fully on her studies and training.
"It's just…" she begins, hesitating for a long moment before continuing, "I keep wondering about passion. It seems like something so inherently important to my training, but I've never actually—" She stops speaking abruptly, a deep red blush staining her cheeks as she looks down and away from him.
Kylo's mind immediately provides him with some very inappropriate—but exceedingly passionate—images of himself and Rey. He cannot help himself, lingering on a scene painfully similar to the one he had found himself in with Rey on Moraband—pinning her to the floor during a sparring match, but instead of letting her go, kissing her absolutely senseless.
He can almost feel his hands exploring her soft skin, tugging on her clothes until she's gloriously bare before him, teeth-marks across her neck and shoulders and chest marking her as his. He can nearly smell the scent of their sweat-slicked skin as he buries himself deep inside of her; feel her fingers tugging on his hair—
"Master?"
His head snaps up, and he feels simultaneously grateful that she cannot see into his mind and horrified that he let his mind wander into such territory in the first place.
He has no room in his life for such desires, least of all for his Apprentice.
Obviously Rey had not intended to imply any sort of sexual relationship between them—she had likely spoken of anger and resentment and sadness; passion for the things she believes in.
"What do you wish to know?" He manages to say, quite pleased with how normal and unaffected his voice sounds. He discreetly adjusts his robes—he's only human, and even he is not immune to the effects of sexual desire—and subtly shifts away from Rey, hoping she will not catch the movement.
"What if I never experience true passion?" She blurts out, leaning forward with wide, beautiful—what in the name of the Force is happening to him?—eyes, sincere curiosity and worry laced in her voice. "Will it limit me in my abilities? What if—what if your faith in me is misplaced?"
He can tell this is something that truly bothers her, and his first instinct is to reassure her that whatever she does, she will never disappoint him—but he squashes that urge swiftly.
Such sentimentalities are below him.
"True passion is never beyond anyone's reach," he insists, leaning towards her despite his most earnest intentions not to. "Passion takes on many forms, and not everyone experiences it in the same ways—the way another may have experienced true passion will not always be the way you might experience true passion."
He can tell he has struck a chord, and he hopes it'll divert her attention from his own very obvious distraction earlier.
She worries her teeth over her lower lip, eyes downcast, and he wonders what is going on in that head of hers when she blurts, "But what about sex? I mean…" She blushes a deep scarlet and looks away from him—which only plays to his advantage, since he is most certainly not able to keep his expression calm and composed—before she continues. "Poe told me once… of being so attracted to someone that you couldn't keep your hands off of them—of being so passionate about… I—"
She falls silent once again, and he barely suppresses a wince at the pained look on her face.
"What if I'm broken?" She whispers, her eyes hooded and suspiciously damp. "What if they broke me and I can't—I can barely stand being touched some days… What if I become a liability? I don't want to disappoint you, Master." She looks up at him with such trust and devotion that it takes his breath away, and he is momentarily speechless.
"You won't disappoint me," he insists, leaning forward to take one of her hands in his. "I am… uncomfortable with prolonged physical contact, as well… It requires a kind of intimacy I am no longer capable of. It does not, however, prove a liability. You are strong, Rey."
He had not realized how little space was left between them until he looked into her eyes once again. It is a heady feeling to breathe in the air Rey has just exhaled, and his mind feels clouded, and he honestly cannot remember a valid reason to not lean in and kiss her—her lips are so close, and it is almost as though she is calling to him, and he is powerless to resist her call.
His fingers are still wrapped loosely around her wrist, and the touch does not repulse him as it usually does—his skin does not even crawl, and it is an exhilarating, unfamiliar feeling that he is loath to let go of.
"I could show you true passion," he murmurs thoughtlessly, eyes fastened on her full, undoubtedly soft, pink lips.
She gasps quietly, but doesn't resist when he pulls her into a hungry kiss, their lips sliding together erotically and stang it, he cannot resist her. His hands and arms move of their own accord, an arm slipping around her waist, and suddenly she's in his lap, his hand tangling in her hair to hold her in place as he kisses her absolutely senseless.
He growls against her lips when she tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs on it hard, pressing her entire body into his and kriff. He honestly cannot recall a moment when he had ever been this comfortable with physical contact—his sex life has, naturally, been sorely lacking because of his aversion to touch—but he can't get enough of Rey.
Kissing her feels much like an electric shock, his skin burning deliciously where she touches him, and a burning throb ignites somewhere deep in his stomach. She's kissing him back fiercely and hungrily, and a little voice in the back of his head muses that she seems quite adept at passion, and he's not entirely sure why she seems to think she isn't.
She moans quietly against his lips, a deep, wanton sound that sends flames of hot lust straight down to his groin. It feels like a slow fire burning its way through his veins; as though Rey's lit a fire somewhere deep inside of him that no one but her would be able to quench or satisfy.
Nothing else seems important anymore; nothing but his lips remaining on hers.
Slowly and very, very reluctantly, he leans back—because he's feeling a little lightheaded by the lack of air—groaning when Rey doesn't stop her assault on all of his senses. She just moves her lips—her soft, delicious lips—down his cheek, onto his neck and collarbone. "Rey," he manages to moan softly, tugging on her hair lightly—because he doesn't want her to stop, not truly; but he knows he has to. Because if she continues, he might explode.
She complies, but remains pressed against him, her hips pressing down on his and her breasts pressed up against his chest, her fingers tangled in his hair. His mind is blissfully silent for another long moment before reality rudely shoves its way to the forefront of his mind again, and he realizes the impossibility and the immorality of his actions.
She is his student.
She has been violated and taken advantage of more times than either of them can count already, and he does not want to be another name on that list of men. The mere thought makes him sick, and he shoves her off of his lap before he jumps to his feet, absolutely horrified by his own lack of decorum.
"Master," Rey mutters, raising herself up onto her elbows as she stares at him—and Force, she looks sinful—with wide blown pupils and mussed hair, her tunic slipping off her shoulder to reveal creamy skin that he is aching to touch—in the most delicious way he has ever seen. "Kylo, I—"
"I must go," he interrupts curtly, schooling his features into a mask of indifference, silently grateful for the way his robes obscure her view of his suddenly uncomfortably tight trousers. "I expect you to meditate on the things we spoke of earlier. The Supreme Leader wishes to meet you in the morning—see to it that you are prepared."
With that, he turns on his heel, clicking his mask back into place as he storms out of the room and away from the temptation that Rey represents. He can hear her calling after him, but he is certain she won't follow him in her dishevelled state, and ignores her—he cannot deal with this.
He is near the bridge when he feels a familiar Force-signature enter Starkiller's atmosphere, along with several dozens of others he does not immediately recognize. He grits his teeth in frustration and feels the anger that had been suppressed since the moment he had found Rey well back up again as he stalks towards Colonel Hux.
The immense amount of residual lust and desire that still course through his veins serve well to add to his frustration and anger, and he pushes aside the infuriating human weaknesses that come along with his immense desire for his Apprentice and focuses his mind, readying himself to enter a battle meditation if necessary.
"I suggest you rally the troops and send out a fleet of TIE-fighters," he orders calmly, clasping his hands behind his back as he joins the infuriating little slip of a man at the bridge. "The Resistance has begun its attack upon Starkiller Base."
For those interested, here's a list of the seven other Knights of Ren and their respective species :D
- Lumiya Ren (Mirialan)
- Jacen Ren (human)
- Dota Ny Ren (Togruta)
- Venamis Ren (human)
- Bo-Ro-Tara Ren (Cerean)
- Hoolidan Ren (Duros)
- Aalad'zaja (Zaja) Ren (Twi'lek)
