AN: I apologize for the long wait! I developed a cold over Labor Day weekend and it's turned into bronchitis/pneumonia. But I'm finally improving, hooray!

Thank you thank you thank you for your wonderful reviews! They all just made my week. I am so appreciative, and thrilled that so many people are enjoying the story! Enjoy this next chapter and do let me know what you think!

Chapter 10

I. [Rey]

Kylo's rooms are a surprise.

The troopers lead me quickly to his door, shoving me inside and following behind. They stand in front of the entrance, blasters in hand, as if daring me to cross them. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at them, or play a mind-trick just to see if I can. This is not the moment for rash actions, not with Kylo in such a state.

We stand in the front room - the only place I'm sure guests are received - and it is just what I would expect from the dark prince. There are grey walls, with shadowed ceilings and low light. Stiff, formal furniture; no decorations.

I move further in - the troopers don't stop me - and what I don't expect is the - well - lived-in look in the large interior sitting room.

In a strange way it reminds me of my own shelter on Jakku. There are old books on shelves; trinkets tucked into empty spaces on tables. There are extra clothes strewn about as if he carelessly undresses each day. A half-eaten piece of fruit is lying on the table that is adjacent to a charcoal-colored sofa. The sofa is covered in blankets - did he sleep here instead of his bed? - and a small droid is tucked into a corner, silent.

There are two doors on either end of the far wall. I do not open either one of them, afraid of discovering his bedroom.

Instead I sink into the couch, already deciding to not touch anything; I have no idea what sort of mood he'll be in when he gets back. The chances of him taking me into his arms and kissing me are about equal to him walking in and Force-choking me.

It feels like days but really is no more than twenty minutes before I hear the door to the hallway open; hear him ask the troopers where I am, then dismiss them. My heart pounds in time to the sound of his boots on the slick floor, bringing him ever closer.

I stiffen, call out to the Force, trying to prepare myself for whatever is coming. But I am exhausted. I have not slept in almost a day and I can barely keep my eyes focused, let alone use the required energy to defend myself.

I clench my hands, resting in my lap. I raise my eyes, hold my breath, and wait for his entrance.

He stops just for a moment when he sees me, before turning toward a table where he takes off the outer layers of his clothes, sets his lightsaber down.

The words are out before I can stop myself. "Is he all right?"

A bitter laugh escapes his laugh. "Of course that's all that matters to you."

"Is he all right?" I repeat, my voice becoming steel.

"Go back to your rooms, Rey."

"No," I sputter, surprised. "I just signed my life away to you and I deserve to know what is going on!"

He runs a gloved hand through his hair, habit I now recognize stems from frustration. "Troopers are waiting outside. Go back to your rooms. I'll see you in the morning."

"Don't act like you're the victim in this, Kylo," I hiss at him. "We both know better."

I shove past him, stopping only when the troopers regain their hold on me in the corridor. I hang my head, make my voice sound sorrowful. "Lord Ren wants me to be taken back to my old cell." They offer no words or acknowledgement other than heading in the opposite direction, toward the prisoners' wing. I know that this is petty, but I don't want to return to my rooms as he commanded. I want to defy him in some small way.

II. [Poe]

The flight back is brutal. My arm, cut at the wrist, seems to have been cauterized by the lightsaber, so there's no blood. No, just an intense, makes-me-want-to-turn-around-and-blow-up-the-destroyer kind of pain.

But the pain in my arm is nothing compared to the pain of leaving Rey.

I slam my good hand against the co-pilot's chair, where she should be sitting - but she's not because I failed. I failed and I can't fix it. My insides feel like ice as I remember her bargain - Honestly, couldn't she have offered something less permanent than marriage?! - and his greedy look as he accepted. I press the cannon with my good hand, blasting a nearby asteroid into oblivion simply to soothe my own frustration.

If he wasn't Leia's son….

...or Rey's husband...

I nearly spin the ship out of control, the idea is so repulsive to me. I know the best I can do for her is return to the Resistance, form a plan to get her back. I'll be back within a week. I spare a glance at my severed wrist.

Even if it kills me, I will go back for her.

III. [Rey]

The next morning I awake with a sharp pain in my neck and a burning in my eyes from poor sleep. I'm sitting up, leaning against the wall with my legs bent in front of me. Until now I did not realize how much I've grown used to my rooms, my soft bed and soothing waterfall. The sting of this cell is deeper than before, but I asked to be put here - already an improvement from the first time around.

"Finally. You're awake."

I turn to the voice, finding a masked Kylo Ren on the other side of the bars.

This is hauntingly familiar.

I rest my elbows on my knees, turning my head away from his looming figure. I don't bother to respond.

"I must admit it took me awhile to find you. I finally had to track down the troopers who escorted you last night and get the story from them - they were understandably shocked at my confusion. It appears you orchestrated this yourself...and I have to ask why."

When I say nothing, he sighs in frustration. "You're being a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"What difference does it make?" I bite back. "Whether here or on a throne, I'm still you're prisoner."

I hear nothing for several seconds, then the cell bars slide open.

I hear his helmet drop, hear him slide down next to me, hear his slightly uneven breathing.

I chance a quick look at him, only to find his posture identical to mine - leaning against the wall, his elbows resting on his bent knees.

"I cannot tell you the number of times I've wished that we met under different circumstances."

"If those circumstances hadn't happened, we never would have met at all," I retort. "I'm just a scavenger, remember? You never fail to remind me."

He lets out a half laugh, half sigh, turning his head toward me. I mirror him, and find myself looking in his eyes. I feel myself, in spite of everything, wanting to be close to him; needing him. Is it wrong, with everything that's happened? Or is it just fate, was this always meant to be? My heart twists and I stop myself from thinking.

"You're much more than that, and we both know it," he says, so softly I barely hear him. "You have no idea of the hold you have over me."

"That doesn't excuse what you've done."

"No, it doesn't," he says quietly. "I'm not a good man."

"You could be," I whisper.

"No, Rey," he sighs, and seems to age a thousand years. "You're the only good thing in my life that's left."

I can't deny it, so I say nothing.

He stands, grabs his helmet.

"Everything for the ceremony has been arranged. Droids will be here shortly to help you prepare. I'll see you after awhile."

"All right."

"Rey - I can't say I'm sorry. Not yet. I've wanted this for...well, since I met you. I hope, in time, you'll want this too."

I close my eyes, feel a single tear escape. I let it roll down my cheek, don't bother to brush it away. I can't admit that some part of me wants this now - I push that part down, remembering Poe, Finn, the Resistance, the light side of the Force. What they need from me is more important than what I want.

He replaces his mask, leaves the cell door open.

"Take all the time you need."

I move in a fog. Time passes and I find myself in a shower, being scrubbed thoroughly by droids. They rinse and dry my hair within minutes, until it is transformed into glossy dark curls. They leave it down, only pinning back a few locks to uncover my face . I'm painted with oils and powders, which emphasize my eyes and lashes. Finally they dress me in a red and gold gown, with thin sleeves that hang off the shoulder, a tight bodice, and a small train. They bring a headpiece, intricate layers of gold intertwined with jewels, and place it atop my head. This is by far the most exquisite clothing I've ever worn. Clearly for a special occasion.

Like a wedding.

I startle when I see myself in the mirror; I hardly recognize my reflection. I look like some ancient goddess, aloof and unattainable, valued only for beauty and power. Not words I would ever have used to describe myself - words like loyal; resilient; clever.

But I suppose that is not what the First Order is interested in for its would be queen.

An hour flies by as if it were only a minute. I am escorted to a small room toward the back of the ship, somewhere I have never been before. I enter and there is a man, his age evident in the grey hairs at his temple and the thin lines around his eyes. I feel ill when I recognize the robes he wears; he is an officiator for the First Order, keeper of the archives and recorder of events. He is here to marry Kylo and me. The thought makes me want to faint but -

It doesn't matter now. I've made my choice. My life for Poe's.

"Ah, my lady," he says congenially, as if we were just sitting down to share a drink in a cantina. "This is a cause for celebration. The commander, finding his equal at last." he says grandly. I nearly laugh when he says "equal;" clearly he is unaware of how this ceremony came to be.

The door slides open and two officers enter; one looks completely bored and the other looks terrified. I conclude they must be the witnesses - isn't that a part to every wedding ceremony? Other people watching it?

The officiator attempts to make awkward small talk with the three of us but it quickly panders out. My mind is elsewhere and I cannot reel it back. Not for anything.

Ten minutes pass before the door slides open once more. It seems to move more slowly this time, as if it is trying to protect me from the man that is on the other side. But it fails, just like I did, just like Poe did, and Kylo comes for me anyway.

I hear the click of his heavy boots on the floor; his purposeful, even strides, exuding confidence. I bristle when I realize he has his mask on. I'm about to protest this when he grabs my hand, firmly, and leads me to stand beside him in front of the officiator.

"I want no pomp," Kylo says, almost sounding bored. "Finish the ceremony as quickly as possible."

The officiator nods, looking nervous for the first time, and delivers a short speech about devotion, loyalty, and trust. I bite my tongue at this. I've betrayed Kylo and he's betrayed me. What a sham this is already turning out to be.

In less than five minutes we are legally wed. We sign a document, as do the officers, and the ceremony is finished. No dancing, no singing, toasting, or celebrating. Just cold, calm movements, all the emotion removed.

I stand, dumbfounded, as the officiator takes the now signed record, bows to Kylo. He addresses us by title, Lord and Lady Ren, and leaves.

The officers are quick to follow, leaving me alone with a masked Kylo Ren. I sense his eyes on me through the mask. I think of a thousand things I want to say, and a thousand ways I could say them, but something is holding me back. Instead I raise myself to my full height, lift my chin and meet his gaze as best I can. I wait for a chuckle, a decree of his victory, even him ripping off the mask and kissing me passionately, because he finally has a legal right to do so. But he does none of those things.

He simply turns around, walks out the way he came.

Leaving me utterly alone.

The first several hours of my life as a married woman are spent in near solitude. After exiting the officiating room (one I will never enter again, if I can help it), I head toward the archives for something to do. My usual escort of storm troopers are with me, though they keep a respectful distance behind. There is no reason for them to follow, as I see it. I couldn't get anywhere in this tent of a dress. Just the cost of this one item must be worth half the economy on Jakku.

The only words I utter in those first few hours are a request for dinner; a trooper leaves and returns with it in twenty minutes, carrying simple but delicious fare. I am pleasantly surprised that Ren has not requested me for dinner.

But I am also perplexed.

For several months every evening meal was spent with him - and now that he finally has me - forever, I think sadly - is he done with these games? I'm still smarting from our recent encounters and am not eager to have a repeat performance. I'll accept the silence and his aloofness gladly.

I don't study much in the archives, though I do look for our officiator. He is nowhere in sight. I plop down with the first book I find, favoring it over the holograms. A book requires more concentration; perhaps this will take my mind off of everything. I squish into a hard chair, trying to fit the layers of my dress between the armrests. It's not ideal but it will do. I open the book - The Battle of Naboo - and settle in. My plan works; I spend the next several hours lost in the tactics and intensity of the battle against the Trade Federation, so many years ago.

I'm startled out of my trance when a trooper clears his throat, informing me that I am to return to my rooms. I nod, set the book down gingerly, promising to return to it eventually and follow the trooper. I am almost giddy with relief. I'm returning to my own rooms - perhaps Kylo is truly giving me time to adjust.

I look around as I realize that we have taken far more turns than I was anticipating; the archives are not far from my rooms. Are we taking a back way? Are they so worried about me trying to escape that they are walking in circles to prevent me from knowing exactly where we are? Again, have they seen this dress? I'm going exactly nowhere in it.

Eventually our steps slow and I know why I didn't recognize where we were going - because I've only seen this door twice, both times within minutes of each other, when the corridors were dark and I was riddled with exhaustion.

"Lady Ren," says a trooper, pressing the alarm to Kylo's door, notifying him that I am outside. "Your rooms."

IV. [Poe]

A slew of curses that would make a bounty hunter blush leave my mouth as the medics fit a robotic hand to my wrist. I would rather crash on Jakku again than go through this - at least I was unconscious on Jakku.

"You should be grateful we were able to get you one so quickly," Leia says as she helps hold me down, brushes my hair back as if I'm six years old again.

"Well I wouldn't need one if Lord Ren could learn to just control his temper!" I snap without thinking, and hate myself as I see the light fade, just a little, from Leia's eyes. I know Kylo - Ben, as she still calls him - is her only family left. I know how she holds to hope of him like a lifeline.

A wasted effort.

"He needs our help, more than ever," Leia whispers so only I can hear. She doesn't look at me. "Don't worry, I have a plan."

I don't inquire as to what that could be; the final steps of this painful process are almost complete and I am nearly blue in the face holding back my screams.

V. [Rey]

The door slides open and I walk straight to the interior sitting room, where I my droid bustling about, straightening the furniture and setting a bouquet of flowers on the table. It turns when I enter.

"Lady Ren," The slightly robotic tone seems to make the title sound more permanent. I shiver. "Your bed has been turned down, your nightclothes are laid out in your personal suite, whenever you may require them. If you do not need any more assistance, I will exit."

My eyebrow raises, confused. "But you always help me undress for the evening," I say.

"Yes. However," The droid pauses and I realize the stupidity of my question just before the droid answers it, giving me ample opportunity to feel like an idiot twice. "It is expected that your husband will help you with that this evening."

"Right," I squeak, mortified. "Thank you." It leaves and I try to slow my breathing.

I raise a hand to my forehead, my heart pounding as to what the idea and...expectations of tonight bring. When I made that blasted bargain, the thought of consummating a marriage never occurred to me. I'd never become physically intimate with anyone - there either wasn't a chance, as on Jakku, or there wasn't time, as during those early days with the Resistance. Then I was training to be a Jedi, and any fate of that sort was swept away, as impossible as the sands of Jakku becoming oceans.

My stomach rolls at what might be coming. That one simple kiss with Kylo wrecked me. I'm still not certain of my own emotions; I am still battling with remorse and disgust at my attraction to someone who has committed such evil.

But his lips.

I shake myself out of the memories on Naboo, willing myself to stay mentally focused. He nearly killed Poe! I remind myself sternly. I need to have this decision made before I see him. Otherwise I will fall at his feet.

And I cannot let that happen.

I'm still furious with him; still confused. No amount of attraction can undo what he has done.

I hear the sound of a throat clearing across the room. I whip around as quickly as I am able in this forsaken gown. Involuntarily, a violent tremor races down my spine.

Kylo Ren stands just in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame, still wearing his boots but not his mask or gloves. His hair is slightly damp, as if he just washed it. His eyes rove over my dress with approval and I am thankful for all it covers.

"Do you like the flowers?"

I stare at him blankly.

He gives me a knowing smile, stepping into the room and gesturing to the vase of colorful blossoms on the table. "Not really to my taste," he muses, before softening his voice. "But I thought you might enjoy them. These are your living quarters too, now."

"Yes," I reply, keeping my eyes fixed on the petals. "They're lovely."

"You're lovely."

I press my lips together; even I, in my years of near-solitude, recognize a cliche when I hear one. He's leading me deeper into his games. I lift my eyes to his face, but he too is looking at the vase. An awkward beat passes, neither of us attempting to fill it. I curse the silence; it's making it that much easier for Kylo to hear the nervous pounding of my heart, the ragged gasps of breath I'm taking.

I'm not ready.

I switch subjects with lightning speed.

"Where have you been all day?"

"Here and there," he retorts. "The Supreme Leader will require my assistance on another mission in a few weeks."

"Oh," I reply, barely hearing him, nervously fiddling with the skirt of my gown.

His eyes eventually find mine and his voice becomes honey. "Come here," he says softly.

I panic, freeze in place.

He smirks, "Do I have to use a mind trick to make you come closer? What a terrible way to begin a marriage." I still don't move, immune to his attempts at humor.

"Very well," he sighs. "I suppose you can have this one small victory." He comes toward me, and I'm still frozen, my feet becoming roots that seem to burrow me further into the tile.

His hands circle my waist, his nose tickling mine. "I'm sorry this has been a...less than idyllic wedding day," he whispers. "I'll make it up to you. Starting now."

His lips meet mine, this time without asking. I feel the panic rise up again and turn my head away, That doesn't discourage him, as his lips find my neck and trail kisses downward. He pauses his kisses as his hands move into my hair, removing the headpiece with surprising deftness. His mouth covers mine again and I gasp in surprise; he doesn't waste the opportunity and slips his tongue past my lips, deepening the kiss. Without realizing it I have pressed myself against him, my body moving much more quickly than my mind.

His hand moves from my hair to the back of my gown, finding the zipper and tugging it down and I feel like this is happening too fast, too fast and I'm standing between two paths, between sun and moon, sand and snow, dark and light and I can't choose and I can't even think when he's this close and I'm supposed to hate him but I can't when he's kissing me and now I -

My rapid fire thoughts break through the haze of his kisses and I ball my fists, pushing away from him, hard. His face falls for just a moment before returning to impassive. I smart as I realize his breathing is completely normal and I am gulping breaths like a winded Tauntaun.

Before I can utter a word he is pulling me gently to him, burying his face in the curve of my bare shoulder, planting kisses and whispering of how long he's waited for me.

I grasp his shoulders, attempting to pull him away. "Please," my voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. "Please Kylo, I can't...I'm not...I can't do this."

I feel him sag against me, hear his groan of frustration. He pulls his head up, his face so close to mine I can count the shades of earth in his dark eyes. "I love you," he says quietly.

My heart shatters.

I swallow, trusting my own instinct. "If you really love me, as you say you do, you'll give me time. To adjust."

There is an unbearable pause as he looks deeply into my eyes. I see flickers of a hundred different emotions before he settles on concession.

"Very well."

I'm shocked at his sudden relent. I give one request, and he agrees? No arguing, no pleading?

"I've waited for you for four years, Rey," he says, answering my thoughts. "I can wait a little longer. Here, you have your own suite. Let me show you to it."

He takes me to the furthest door, on the far end of the wall. He presses in a code, saying it aloud for my benefit. "I will never enter this room unless I have permission from you," he says quietly. "I think I'm safe in assuming you want to be alone tonight."

He stops, turns back.

"And just so we're clear, Rey," he says softly. "My room has an open invitation."

VI. [Poe]

I flex my new hand, moving the fingers one by one, try zipping up my jacket, holding a glass, firing a blaster. It seems to work just fine. And steel is much stronger than flesh. It will make punching Kylo in the face that much more satisfying.

"The Order knows we're recruiting in the Outer Rim," Finn says wearily, calling my attention back to the conversation at hand. "And they still have Rey."

He says this as gently as he can, assuring me there is no blame, but I can't stop the guilt that eats at me like vultures to a carcass. The Resistance lost their spy and Rey's rescuer in the course of one night. Well, no, not every spy, I remember. There's still one left. Hopefully they're faring better than I did.

"I have a plan in place. A decoy, if you will," says Leia. "I will lure them to a specified location, make them believe that is our true base."

"We've already tried that," someone pipes up. Someone new; I don't recognize her - the length of my absence hits me again and I look around. I hardly know any of these people. "They knew it was a decoy. Why would they fall for the same trick twice?"

I bristle at her tone toward Leia, prepared to let this newcomer know her place, but Leia beats me to it in a much more diplomatic way.

"Forgive me, but I've been planning military tactics longer than you've been alive," she states calmly. "But since you're probably not the only one wondering...we planted that decoy purposefully, let them discover our plan quickly. Doing so was a success; we were able to convince the Order that we were less prepared than they thought. By planting a second decoy, they are sure to assume that is the real base - because of their arrogance, they will assume that we are not capable of deception twice. They will send their key forces and leaders, which will leave them vulnerable."

"And then what?" Finn asks. My heart twists as I see the cut on his lip, the bruises under his eye. What has he been through these last few months? "We try an ambush? It will never work, their forces would annihilate us."

"No," says Leia. "We can't show them the extent of our fighters. Our only strength right now is that they underestimate our numbers. Let them continue to do so. We will win this battle with a deception."

"Of what kind?" I ask, my heart sinking. I know where this is going.

Leia only offers a sad smile. "Leave that to me."

She announces the end of the meeting, and the room clears out until only a few pockets of people remain, whispering urgently in twos and threes. I stand still until Finn comes to find me, offers me a hug. "It's good to see you brother," he says tiredly. "Almost all in one piece."

"He's going to marry her."

A sigh from Finn. "Yeah, I know. Leia told me."

"It was her idea."

"Rey has always been loyal," Finn replies. "In her mind she was trading her life for yours. That's how she operates."

I clench my teeth, angry at myself all over again. I was so close to getting her out of there!

"We have to go after them, as soon as possible."

"I agree...though I have to admit my own reasons for going are not just about Rey," He touches the spot on his shoulder, his burn from Kylo in the forest on Star Killer. "I've got a fight to pick with Ren."

"Yeah?" I reply, flexing my new hand. "Well, get in line."

AN: I'm still not totally happy with this chapter - I've reworked it many times and will probably continue to do so. Rey and Kylo are both very conflicted and I'm not sure I portrayed that...I will try to improve it. Let me know what you think!