11. The Gift

He woke first in the morning, his face buried in her neck. Ren could not decide if it were an embarrassing position or one he'd prefer under different circumstances. Her skin was warm. He hated himself.

It took a generous effort to crawl from the piles of blankets out into the cold of the cabin, like being reborn into a frozen hell. With the chill came the dampening of lingering thoughts and the suppression of images only fit for the dark looseness of night. He needed to tape himself back together in the early dawn if he wanted to save face upon their return.

She yawned and it spooked him out of the hunt for his layers, turning his body so slightly towards the noise. Her eyes were on him as she sat up, her hair cascading down around her shoulders. Heat rose to his face, hyperaware that he was only in a thin shirt and underwear. All of the scars on his legs were visible to her, every nick, line, and burn. His stomach turned in shame at the physical manifestations of his weakness.

How could he live with himself if he were weak before her? How was he supposed to protect her from Snoke if he couldn't protect his own skin from damage?

Shame again. Regret. Disgust burbled up in response to his infatuation.

She looked away, curling her knees up under the covers. "I've lost my pants."

His ears must have been red and he wouldn't have been surprised to find steam rising from his cheeks. Of course he knew she meant they'd gotten kicked off during sleep, but his mind couldn't help but wander to other scenarios. The images haunted him. Her sprawled on her back, his knees caging her hips as he yanked the fabric of her trousers from her waist, one of his hands on her bare thigh, the other running under the waistband of her underwear, combing through dark, wet curls to find—

He turned ferociously on his heel and reached out through the Force for her missing clothing article, flinging it at her without looking. He stalked from the room without another glance, not another sound, having no desire for her to catch the flush on his face or the growing hardness in his underwear.

It's only lust, he told himself unconvincingly. Only the craving for an act he hadn't performed in over a year. He was sick with sexual frustration; that had to be it. Locked in the tiny fresher he quickly tended to himself, already hot and painfully swollen, needing release. Only lust. He came to the thought of her orgasm, of how his name would sound when moaned headily from her mouth, of how her eyes would look brimmed with satiation.

He tried not to look at his reflection when he cleaned himself off, guilt, shame, and loathing crawling nimbly around in his stomach. Disgusting beast. Unworthy.

Coward.

That was…strange, Rey decided as she dressed. The whole 'sleeping beside her adversary for warmth' situation was already strange in its own right, but him running off without so much as a smug, chiding word was bizarre.

It was a downright wonder she wasn't more exhausted after such a restless night. She had never shared a bed with another person before and the heat and unfamiliarity of it had her waking up every half hour to an hour, finding herself contorted into new and interesting positions. Twice she was nearly off the bed and once she actually fell onto the floor. The most interesting was when she woke with her face pressed into his throat, one of his hands at her hip. It had been a peaceful few moments before she came to her senses and realized he was the one she was curled against, not a friend or a lover. Not that she had any real experience with either.

Still, his warmth had been…comforting.

She shook off the thought.

She forwent food in favor of checking the heating and cooling systems, finding the engines working at a sufficient level for departure. A quick walk round in a snowy hell and she decided they could leave, no other concerning developments on the outside of the ship. The ice on the wings would need to melt before takeoff, but it wouldn't be an issue with the engines back online.

Kylo had his arms sunk into the guts of the hyperdrive generator when she boarded, grease smeared on his cheek. He finished whatever he was doing and retracted when she entered, resealing the case. She'd never noticed how large his hands were.

"Everything's clear," he said as he stepped past her, rolling his sleeves back down. "If you want to start her up, be my guest."

That freed her of musings and she climbed up into the cockpit, excited to see how this class of ship worked. It couldn't be too much different from what she was used to and getting the okay from Kylo meant he had some grain of trust in her piloting abilities. Maybe he'd let her do this more often.

…Wasn't she supposed to be trying to get away from the Order?

The thought vanished when he sat beside her in the copilot's chair, his gazed fixed to the control board. "It won't be a long return, but the Finalizer has moved since we've left." His fingers flitted across the keys and a coordinate map sprang to life on the viewport. "Captain Phasma has been kind enough to send our new position. She doesn't know why we left so don't say anything stupid."

"I'm not the one with the loose lips."

He responded to her half-hearted jibe with a black look, his eyes menacing and dark. She sobered and shut her mouth, not knowing what caused his sudden flip in behavior. He'd been gentle the whole trip and now he was back to gnashing his teeth. She frowned. Fine, let him show his true colors.

• • •

He ignored her when they returned to the Finalizer. She was ushered back to her rooms and locked inside when he went off to go do something for Snoke. She waited around for hours, debating slashing her way out of the doors and making a mad dash for it before she convinced herself he'd be returning at any moment, ready to hunt her down. But he never showed up. Never came back. She ate dinner angrily and meditated for an hour before calling it quits, showering, and going to bed. Screw him and screw this hell in which she was imprisoned.

In the morning, he returned with his mask on, forcing her awake and dragging her away to see Snoke. So much for him giving a shit about what happened to her ever-fracturing mental state. She couldn't fight off the darkness that slithered its way up her legs and she fell from the grace she'd worked so hard to keep.

It lingered longer this time, staying with her well into the next day. Kylo was unchanged and unbothered by her sharp tongue and short outbursts, opting to stand back when she wailed on him. She was gruffly pulled into a large library and told to sit there and think until he came back.

By the time she was fetched, her anger had boiled away, leaving her exhausted. The Dark was forced from her conscious again, this time carving a deeper scar into her psyche. The days ahead felt long, arduous, and uncountable. Rey felt sick.

It took another week of biting, snapping interactions to get him to agree to spar. He would be leaving for Giaca soon and she would not get any practice or skill in for at least two weeks, perhaps even a month.

"Steady yourself."

He stood before her, his lightsaber ignited in his hand. Hers hummed in her grip, but it was awkward to wield and heavy, causing her hands and knees to shake. She knew it would be a weighty tool upon its completion, but she hadn't stopped to think about how her shoulders would ache with each swing.

"I can't."

"You chose to build your weapon in this way, now you must live with your poor decision. Steady your hands."

She took a deep breath and tried again, willing her arms not to quake with overexertion.

He shifted his stance back into an opener of the Juyo form, something he'd learned long before his fall. She couldn't match it, not with the crafted style of her blade, and instead slipped into the overhead hold of Soresu. Her lats, deltoids, and triceps were screaming but she kept her blade steady, its heavy hilt running above her head.

They start and she is slow on her feet. His movements are quick and relentless, unpredictable and heavy. She fends him off with difficulty, her muscles unprepared and untrained. His blade crashes before her face and she is pushed backwards, stumbling with his weight. He blocks her many times over before delivering a kick square to her chest and she crashes.

"That was horrible." Kylo disengaged his blade and stepped around her, picking up her saber from where it had fallen. He seemed curious but disappointed by it, holding it in both hands. It was far too short for his height. "If you could rearrange it so the base were detachable, you'd have less difficulty swinging it around."

"Then I'd lose the length."

"So? What good is that doing you now?" He waited for her to stand, watching closely with a scrutinizing eye. "You crave a staff but you've built a club. These weapons are blades first, bludgeons second."

"You told me to keep it as I made it. You want me to tear the whole thing apart?"

"I thought your arms would be stronger with all the hardship you've faced."

"And now you call me weak?" Her temper flared and she ripped his weapon from his belt, ignoring the feral snarl springing to his lips. "I'd like to see you try!"

"Fine."

He snapped her blade to life and started in Form V—Djem So. She raised his saber in Form III again and he pounced.

He forces her backwards with her own yellow blade, the weight of it aiding his power. She finds his saber easier to maneuver but more awkward in her hands. Twirling like a top, she thinks she is doing well at blocking him until the counterweight at the end of her weapon smashes hard into her side and she goes down like a felled tree.

Rey sucked in a breath to find nothing but fire and needles in her chest. Her rib—fuck—her rib was cracked. The pain was an unwanted nostalgia and she whined in her next breath.

She did not look him in the eye when he kneeled beside her, his face swimming with mixed emotions. "You're a kriffing asshole."

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft in her ears, the past two weeks of aggression and irritation nowhere to be found. "Let me—can I—where did I hit you?"

"What the kriff do you mean where?" she grit, tears welling to her eyes. "You cracked my rib in exactly the same place as before."

"I've never…" He bit his lip in thought. "I need you to stay still so I can fix this, okay?"

"I can fix it myself."

"Rey, stop."

She rolled her eyes and kept still, wincing when he moved her arms over her head. His touch was soft—like the first time he'd done this—and he was careful when he lifted her shirt away from the injury. She could see the edges of purple and red already bubbling up on her ribs.

His hands were a little shaky when he pressed his fingers delicately to her side. A strange, heady feeling emanated from his touch, spreading up her spine and down her toes. With him focused and her lightheaded, she let her eyes wander over him, tracing the grooves of his arm muscles, the broadness of his body, the way his lips pursed in concentration. He was so big.

The strange euphoria built its way into her head and she giggled. It made her like the way his hands felt on her skin.

"Oh, fuck."

His swear brought her back to his face.

"Do you feel a little odd?"

"A good odd. I like it."

He grimaced and sighed before slowing the amount of energy he was passing to her.

"Why have you been so hostile to me lately?" She wasn't sure what made her ask. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the reason, but the euphoria did.

He didn't answer, not right away. The next sigh sounded like it had been stuck in his chest for years. "You frustrate me. You're stubborn, aggressive, and headstrong, and you frustrate me."

"Why keep me around if you hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you." His eyes drifted over her face and she felt naked in her clothes. "If I hated you, I'd tell you to sleep off the crack and deal with the pain."

"Right, right, I'm the apprentice, I can't go off dying."

He looked a little upset with her words, but nodded, his voice low. "Right."

When she could stand again, he brought her back to her rooms, careful not to let her sway too much on her feet. She was having a hard time not grinning, the colors everywhere a shade brighter than they had been. This must have been what he felt like when she fixed up his shoulder.

"Try to get some rest. It helps to sleep it off."

She took the towel from his outstretched hand. "When are you leaving again?"

"Tomorrow evening."

"And you're sure I can't come?"

"It's going to be dangerous, even for me. It would be wrong to jeopardize safety."

She nodded, not satisfied with his answer. "Okay."

"Sleep, please."

He exited her rooms quickly and she made straight for the shower. Pulling off sweaty, dirty clothes, she stepped eagerly into the spray. Drunk on healing with pleasant bubbles in her stomach, she touched herself into a white explosion, her hands feeling as though they belonged to someone else.

Back in his own room, he felt a stirring across their bond, the one he had tried so hard to keep locked down. The feeling was light, giddy, and full of arousal. He was drinking awful, cream-heavy caf and trying to work through the last of his preparations—nothing arousing about data sheets. It wasn't his.

A moan bubbled up and oh, Force, she was touching herself. Right there in the rooms adjacent to his. Want coiled in his stomach and shot off, making his shoulders and neck tingle. This was private; he should tune it out, but the opportunity…

He shucked his pants and lay down on the sofa, hands frantic to free himself of his underwear. Ren was already semi-hard and another warm groan from her side of the bond made him twitch in his grip.

What the kriff was he doing?

Did it even matter?

He jerked up his length, picturing her hands where his were, her lips swollen and teasing. Her laugh was perfect and his brain stuttered when he felt her getting closer. He should close the bond up tight right now, never think about doing this again, and avoid the shame to follow. But her arousal was bleeding heavily into his and he was growing uncomfortably erect, the need for release coursing steadily through his veins.

Lust, lust, lust, lust. That's all it was. That's all it had to be, could be. No room for anything but pure unabashed carnal desires. It didn't have to be her. It didn't, it didn't—

Her orgasm slammed into him like a freighter and he came unexpectedly hard on his stomach, toes curling, legs shaking. He could picture nothing but her, water from the shower dripping down her cheekbones, lips red, her chest heaving from the exertion. Maybe one of her hands was caressing a small, perfect breast, thumb rolling over the nipple—

The aftershocks pattered out and he felt disgusting.

He was a disgusting, fucking mess.

Still painfully sensitive, he rose from the sofa and made his way to the fresher, determined to wash the filth of his actions from his soiled skin. Dry and metaphorically clean, he ventured into his bedroom to sleep, unwilling to return to the site of his grave weakness just yet.

It was wrong to think he could escape her.

In his dreams, he hovered over her, perched on his forearms. Her legs were locked around his hips and she wore the most beautiful of smiles, dirty horrible words leaving her otherwise innocent lips. Her nails raked up and down his back as he thrust into her, the heat of her body driving him close to insanity. He rewarded her moans with a hand snaked between them, massaging and stroking her to climax. He came with a low growl when she groaned his name, the syllable saturated and thick on her lips.

Ben.

He had to change his sheets when he woke.

Rey had a startling headache for the whole of the next day, but her side had healed beautifully. Thinking back to the shower made her cringe in shame and she did her best to avoid it. It had been strange, though, as if another presence had been pushing against her fingers, running down her thighs. Kylo had shut down their bond entirely, so it couldn't have been him—that thought made her shudder. Perhaps the dizzy result of the healing had caused it? Whatever, the thoughts only produced redness in her face and a heavy stone in her stomach. She opted not to dwell any longer.

He was to leave in a matter of hours. Unlike the last time, Snoke had instructed him not to bring her—she would be more of a hindrance than a help with her inability to block her signature well or with any consistency and this planet was ripe with Force-sensitive life forms, some more deadly than others. Kylo himself was not the best, but he was more trained—stronger, bigger—and therefore he could take care of himself. Hopefully.

Her mind tricks and suggestion abilities had improved, but no one had spoken out against leaving her barely guarded around a bunch of non-sensitives. Maybe they trusted her more? The darkness that continued to edge on her mind said yes, they did. They knew she wouldn't be itching to break away, to leave and find the Resistance. And it was right, knew her well; she would not be making an escape attempt. Too much was at stake. She had so much to lose.

With a grand sigh, she hauled herself from the meditation room floor and went to the wall switch, raising the tables. She hadn't practiced this exercise since the first time he'd shown her, mask grim in his hands and grin wide on his lips.

The water in the basin was cool and clear, reflecting her image up at her eyes, light shimmering off the pool. Rey looked more tired now than she had in weeks. Her hair was limp around her shoulders, long and knotted and aching to be put up. Months had gone by and she'd gotten so used to it tickling her neck that she no longer noticed the missing hair ties and the missing air jetting past the skin of her ears. Her eyes lacked an earlier spark and her lips were chapped—not even a slight change from the world she'd once known.

Clearing her mind with a deep breath, she closed her eyes and drew attentions to the mirror of water. The room melted away and became blackness, her fingers lingering over a silver dish unlike the one she was sat before. The images in it trickled and pulsed, encouraging her to place her hand inside the bowl. She obliged, feeling darkness and light sucking into her veins as she vanished into the liquid.

An ancient canyon spread before her, faces of the long dead carved into red rocks, looming far and high above her head. Some were pensive while others were kind or cruel. All had eyes that followed her but never moved, burning long trains into the skin of her back. She felt naked but was clothed. Blood had run through these crevice walls.

The Valley of the Souls.

This was no place she'd seen, no place she would ever see outside of dreams.

There were voices trapped in the soil, the air, the clouds. Nothing but pain emanated from the towering features of this place. The part of her that still knew the light cried silently in the cool chambers of her heart. This was a torturous place—a scared place.

"The Force is very powerful here."

She shifted, fear tinkling in her toes. The man in front of her was young but old. Tired, with centuries of wizened creases on his brow, with eyes the age of a youth. He appeared wise and sagely, qualities she had seen sparse times past.

"I feel their suffering," she said quietly, shaken by how her voice ricocheted on the valley walls. Meek, lost, childlike.

"A great weight on the mind." He nodded and stepped closer, his image shimmering like mirage in the desert heat. "A battle of light and dark took place here, and so the Force calls you to balance the wrongs, make the color gray."

Her stomach churned. She wanted no greatness, no deeds to lie upon her shoulders. She was no knight of an old children's tale, meant to save the galaxy from a great evil. "I am no balancer."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It all depends upon the angle from which you look. If not you, then him. If not him, then you. Maybe neither, maybe both."

"And if neither?"

"Well, it cannot possibly be worse than the last time."

This was not a comforting thought.

"Trust yourself. Trust him, however lost he may currently be."

She snorted despite herself. "His character is impossible to pin down."

The man smiled and her eyes narrowed, realizing her mistake, realizing she'd alluded to the person in question without any indication it could be him. But it was, gods, it always was. What a fool she was quickly becoming.

"What must I beat out in order to do that?"

"A misery of history on both sides"

Like a great flash, the Valley spun into a molten core, beings with red skin and long tusks controlling the darkness that fell like thick honey down onto the universe. Light burst forth, chasing the red aliens into a nonexistence, but pretenders who bore their names for titles rose to contest with the Light's fighters. Beams of plasma attached to back-borne contraptions clashed in heat until they too fizzled and were consumed. Flashes of battles and power scattered down in fleeting fragments, landing like meteoroids around her feet.

A man in a great mask called by the darkness was undone by a ferocious knight, bringing him back into a world of grey. Tides turned turbid when she was dragged by a dark undertow, ripped from his healing side. There love was so great Rey's chest ached deeply when the image of her redemption was shattered by his return to darkness, disappearing to the end of time.

Centuries flickered by, years and years of conflict and war, halting at the entrance of Skywalker, his face pained and his mind cracked. Dark seeped out, merged inseparably with the love of his wife, her blood coating his hands when from the ashes he rose more machine than man. He was the balancer whose work did not subside until his death.

Luke, then, solemn and brave, stepped from shadow to end a fight he did not start, failing when caution brought about the next ripple in the Force. Before her emerged a burning landscape, the bodies of the dead thrown mercilessly on blood-soaked ground. The trees were made of charred bones, their limbs wailing in the wind. In the center of the battlefield he stood, his blazing weapon lighting the streaks that trailed down his cheeks. He was too young for a fate this harsh. Bowing his head from the sight of his companions, the newly born Kylo Ren wept.

• • •

Rey's eyes opened to the sound of the door clicking open, the man before her with different eyes from the boy standing on the bloodied, muddy soil. His face was the same stone it had been when he brought her here this morning, but his gait was smooth and cautious.

She pulled herself from her cross-legged position, knees creaking as she stood. "Did he send for me?"

"No." He ran his free hand through his hair, the other's nervous fingers playing on the side of his helmet. "I don't know if he'll be calling for you at all while I'm gone."

"How many hours left?"

"Two. Come, we have some things to figure out before I have to leave for preparations."

They walked side by side to her chambers, neither saying a word. His mask hid his face and she did her best to hide her disappointment in being left behind. Their shoulders brushed once and a crippling loneliness decided to clamber back into her brain and make her chest ache. They hadn't spent a day apart since she was first taken aboard, always by his side. It had been nice to have someone close by and breathing, a strange experience that had escaped her all those years spent of Jakku. She didn't want to go back to that feeling, never wanted the hollowness to return. And while she wouldn't be alone on the ship, she would be denied an equal.

"I fought to have you come along," he said when the door to her rooms closed behind him. He took off his mask carefully, more carefully than the first time. His eyes were genuine. "But I couldn't make a good enough argument. I'm sorry."

It was tearing her apart, the feeling of abandonment. "I'll fair."

"I'm being forced to leave you in the company of Hux."

She stared. "Please sneak me on the ship with you."

"I'll get hell for it."

"I cannot promise I won't kill him." They had only brief interactions, but rarely had anyone caused such anger and hatred bubble up on her skin. "Please. You snuck me to Ilum."

"That was different and much quicker of a trip. This is weeks. Someone will notice you're missing."

"What's the worst Snoke can do?"

He shot her a look. "I came to say goodbye, not be guilted or persuaded into taking you with me." He set his helmet down on the sofa. "Close your eyes, I have something for you."

"Why do I need to close my eyes?"

"Just trust me instead of arguing, please. I'm frustrated too, okay?"

She sighed and obeyed.

"Open your hands."

Something cool and rectangular was pressed into her palms, light but long. She felt her fingers around it a moment longer before looking.

"You have to open it."

Why?

Her fingers found the latch and she lifted the lid, staring incredulously at the contents. Three circular elastics with small decorations and one decorative glass comb sat on black silk. Hair ornaments. Her stare was then directed to him. "What the hell."

"It's taken forever to actually find you a hair tie, and I know you haven't had any luck."

"But what's it for?"

"It's a gift, it's not for anything."

A gift? He expected nothing for this?

He reached for the box and she gave it back, cocking an eyebrow.

"Turn around a moment."

After a second of fussing with something out of her vision, fingers lifted hair away from her neck, combing easily through knotty strands. His hands were bare of gloves and she could feel the heat of his skin against her scalp. She should flip around and tell him to quit with these casual touches, but she stayed perfectly still, her heart beating a little too quickly.

His hands carded easily through the rat's nest on her head until all was smooth, fingers brushing her fringe backwards to meet the ridge of her skull. "My mother wore extravagant hairstyles when I was little," he said softly, pulling the first bun into place. "She taught me how to braid it into all kinds of shapes. Once or twice I made it look ridiculous enough to have my father rolling with laughter."

Kylo's voice trailed off with the last few words, hands stilling in their work. His nostalgia was potent and it caught her around the waist, making her feet unsteady. They were trapped in a moment that would soon be lost forever to time.

"I hope this isn't too strange," he said with a melancholic chuckle, gathering her hair into easy strands, less shakiness in his touch.

"It's a little strange, but not bad."

"No?"

"No."

With the third bun secured, his fingers ghosted down her neck and retreated to his sides, leaving warm air and the sense of loss hot on her skin. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she hid her face when she turned around. No one had touched her so gently before, nothing so intimate gracing her life. It had to be him. It was he on the ice planet and it was he now in her rooms, his monster's face curved into a sad smile. He wasn't one person anymore, his eyes no longer charcoal and flames. Dark but not fierce, heady like a chocolate wine.

"Please take me with you."

Her voice was low and scratchy, unable to keep away the elements of loneliness that started to prick around her eyes, her lungs, and her stomach. She bit her lip and watched his face crumble.

"I can't. But…" He looked down, then up, fingers twisting nervously. How frightened he'd become as of late, how changed. "There's a small compartment in the ship's first deck, under the floor. It's hollow, and if you hurry…"

A lip-splitting smile cracked to life on Rey's face. She could kiss him.

"I won't let you down."

Leia stood in front of the holoprojector in the base's main conference room. Luke was beside her, but he was doing nothing to calm her nerves. It had been a long time since they'd spoken to the person they were calling now. It would be a miracle if he decided to help, but he was on decent terms with them both. There was hope, even if it were small.

The man in question's visage flickered to life in front of the twins, his serious expression melting so slightly at their image.

"It's been a few years, hasn't it?"

Leia took a breath, uncharacteristically nervous. "We need to ask a favor, Lando. A lot has changed recently."

He nodded. "So I've heard. Poured out a drink too many in the past couple of months. What can I do, Princess?"

She frowned at the title and let Luke explain.

"There's a planet in the Unknown Regions called Giaca. I've heard of it, and we thought you must have, too."

Lando nodded. "I have. Don't like it, but I have. A lot of good stuff there, but a lot of risk in getting them. I hope you have a good reason for asking."

"We think—no," Leia stopped, correcting herself, "we know the First Order has its location. If I understand correctly, there's an ancient surveillance system somewhere on the planet."

"And a whole lot more. Smart to call me—what do you need?"

"Any information you've got. Maybe some tech, depends on what's in store. We can pay if you need."

"That won't be necessary. This is for Han."

A/N: Life got a little nuts but I'm only a day late! Next stop, new planet!