Flowers unfurled as spring arrived, perfuming the air every time Rey went to her garden. Her energy seemed to wax and wane as her stomach swelled, but being around the green always provided her with a deep well of strength and steadiness to draw from.

She was sitting in her garden when she first felt it- a strange sensation, like bubbles popping, low in her abdomen.

As soon as she recognized what it was, she sent a bright and giddy beckoning spark of emotion out through her gift. That done, she immediately tamped the connection down so as to not ruin the surprise before he arrived. They were gradually improving at modulating the connection between them, deepening it when it was convenient and extracting themselves when it was not.

Eventually, Ren appeared in the doorway, frown heavy on his brow. "What is it?"

"Come here, come here," she said, waving her hands, whispering like she was almost afraid that speaking would break the spell. "Quickly!"

He settled beside her and she took his hand, pressing it to her abdomen, waiting for the sensation to happen again. It only took a few moments- a fluttering little kick, evidence of life flourishing in her womb.

He let out a little bark of surprise, a grin spreading across his face. "Amazing." As she beamed back at him, his head dropped, nearer to the source of the kicking, his smile almost beatific. "Absolutely amazing."


Lord Richmond was nearly seven minutes into a long-winded complaint about a tax dispute with one of his neighbours when Rey saw Luke striding through the council chamber, brow furrowed.

Thank heavens. She could use the distraction. Even using her gift to complain to Ren- he was sat a little ways down the table among the other councillors, his face impressively flat as he joined in with barbed comments about Richmond's choice in clothing- was not helping the time pass any faster.

"Lord Richmond," she started gently, "I understand that this is of great concern to you and it is therefore of great concern for the realm, but I must ask you to return tomorrow."

"I beg your-" Richmond stuttered. "I have waited a week for an audience, has your condition grown so advanced that you are incapable of-"

Ren narrowed his eyes and exhaled a slow breath through his nose, very near to a growl, enough to grab Richmond's attention.

"-tomorrow, of course," Richmond abruptly corrected, "please have a page inform me of the time." Though clearly still disgruntled, he stood, joining the rest of the obviously relieved councillors as they filed out of the chamber.

When the room was empty, she and Ren both turned expectantly to Luke.

"It's… bad," Luke started. "Very bad." For a moment, he looked lost, as if he couldn't even decide where to begin. "The Order of the First Saint is now claiming that they have found Richard. And that they intend to raise him to the throne."

Rey could barely understand what she was hearing. "What- the younger lost prince? Have they no shame?" That was a low that she hadn't even considered them stooping to. When she cast a glance at her husband, she found that he had gone sharply pale, his fingers holding the table in a death grip.

Luke sat at one of the vacated chairs gingerly, worry lines deep on his face. "I know this a little sooner than the rest of the world- one of my spies sent a fast messenger. But the word will be out by tomorrow, I suspect, or the day after at the latest. They're sending envoys to the major cities to spread the word"

Ren's first response was pushed through gritted teeth. "How many?"

"Sorry?"

"How many have betrayed us?"

Rey blinked at him. Her mind hadn't even gotten that far yet-

"Three," Luke said grimly, "that I know of. York, Durham, and one of the Border Lords. Those with the most to gain from destabilising the monarchy; those farthest from the capital."

"One shred of legitimacy," Ren spat out, "and they would abandon us."

Even in these dire circumstances, Rey's heart lifted a little to hear his allegiance declared so clearly and firmly. "They were poorly organised and provisioned before," she said, trying to envision the best case scenario. "A few lords will add to their numbers, but we have our own army. Can anyone speak to or verify this prince?"

Luke shook his head grimly. "Hux is refusing to let anyone see the boy, except to say that he fled the Tower by night and had been living in hiding with minor nobility in the Northwest. He still claims to not be against the monarchy, merely that he wishes to correct the impurity of the reign of a woman-"

Rey barely had enough time to shove her chair back and stand as Ren lurched to his feet, yanking his sword free and bringing it down on the table with a furious yell. He was a fair physical distance away and she was at no real risk, but she still obeyed the motion when Luke firmly walked her to the wall, away from the oncoming path of any projectile splinters.

Cushions came apart under Ren's furious blows, finely crafted chairs splintering as he whaled at them with his blade. She tried to call out to him once or twice, both out loud and through her gift, but he didn't seem to hear- giving up, Rey just stood back with raised eyebrows, watching as he destroyed all of the furniture in the room. The table came apart in pieces, hacked at like he was using his expensive sword as an axe.

Luke, for his part, almost seemed like he was withholding an eye roll.

When Ren finally stopped, panting over the wreckage of the room, Rey cleared her throat. "If you're quite finished, we should assemble a war council."


The rest of Rey's afternoon was spent with her chattering ladies, all of them still blissfully unaware of the impending chaos. If any of them thought that she seemed distracted, unable to keep up with the usual stream of gossip and laughter, they chose not to comment on it.

Nonetheless, she still found it a relief to be able to finally send them away as the day came to a close, welcoming Ren as he arrived according to their usual schedule. There had been some fuss about his continued attentions, given her condition; a few clerics had been brave enough to tut about the impurity of physical relations during pregnancy. Rey blithely ignored them. She didn't even need to ask to know that Ren didn't care.

In the silence, she lay curled against his side, listening to the wind rattle against the windowpanes. He was as awake as she was; she could feel it though her gift, a strumming anxiety that they almost seemed to feed back and forth between them.

She found herself staring at the whorls and swirls of pattern in the dark red canopy far above. "Do you think it could really be the prince?"

"I... Don't know," he answered after a pause, voice low. "It's unlikely."

"If it is..." She trailed off, not sure of how to finish the thought. Mainly because she genuinely wasn't certain of what she would do if that came to pass.

"And if it isn't," he countered, "there's nothing to stop it from happening again. And again, and again- as long as there's uncertainty, this will keep happening." His hand gently reached out to touch her stomach. "This could go on for generations- supposed heirs of the supposed lost princes. Without bodies or a definitive version of what happened, it will be endless."

Rey briefly thought of her thus-far unsuccessful investigation. "I don't believe there are any real solutions."

He leaned up onto his elbow, slowly tucking some of her hair behind her ear. "No easy solutions, true."

She rolled her head and frowned at him. "You say that as if there are difficult solutions."

The sad half-smile that he gave her was imbued with meaning that she didn't understand, uneasiness lingering at its corners. But when she opened her mouth to ask, he pressed a finger to her lips, quickly followed by a kiss that distracted her away from her concerns.

It was easy to forget about the burden of politics for a moment as his hands slid up her thighs, seeking comfort against her skin. She cuddled back against him, hooking one leg forward as she lay on her side, curling her fingers into the soft covers when his fingers traced the cleft of her legs.

They were silent throughout, with her only letting out a little sigh when he pushed into her from behind. The quiet made the world feel somehow calmer, this little cocoon of tapestries and covers hiding them away from everything. A nest where they could await the future and their little one in safety.

This position really ought to have felt more impersonal, more distant, given that they weren't facing each other. But with his torso tightly curved around her back and an arm gently and carefully placed on her stomach, she felt... Safe. The pace he set was rocking and gentle, slowly bringing her to a rolling pleasure that made her almost feel drunk. The kisses peppered against her neck and shoulders were ticklish and lovely, making her smile into the dark.

When he eventually shuddered and stilled, his lips pressed against her hair, she almost thought she heard him whisper a quiet I love you.


Business of state still had to continue, even as members of the war council responded to summons and began to travel to London. Not everything could be set aside- accordingly, Rey was sitting in the throne room, greeting a newly arrived ambassador from Rome, when she felt Ren unobtrusively slip into the hall through a side door.

The room was moderately busy, with people waiting for some of her time and servants scurrying back and forth. It was bound to be a long and boring afternoon, so Rey had dismissed her ladies, assuring them that the Captain would be enough company for this task.

She didn't particularly pay Ren any mind until the sound of a sword being withdrawn from a scabbard suddenly rasped through the room. Every guard in the vicinity snapped to attention at the sound, their hands immediately flying to the hilts of their own blades.

When Rey frowned and stood, looking for the source of the noise, she found that Ren was already sheathing his sword again and loosening it from his belt. In a brusque movement, he let it clatter to the floor. Before anyone could react, he then spoke clearly into the room, voice loud in the silence. "The so-called Prince of the Order of the First Saint is a fake."

Something was wrong. When Rey reached out to him, could still feel his presence through her gift, but beyond that, it was like staring into a dark pool of still water- everything beneath a mystery.

His face was as brusque as she had ever seen it, almost as though he was wearing a mask. "He cannot be legitimate, because both legitimate princes are dead."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up in a vague dread; her pulse was jumping in her ears, her chest tight. Even with his feelings hidden, she could sense that something about his words were dreadfully off, missing that usual ring of truth. No- no- no- wrong- wrong- LIAR-

"I know this because they died at my hand."

The silence was deafening. Rey felt like even her heart stopped beating.

"Two years ago, I went to the Tower on Snoke's request and smothered them in their sleep," he continued, his words unnervingly steady and toneless. "I used a pillow-"

"Stop." It was said with such a hiss that Rey almost didn't recognise her own voice. An anger was building, deep in her breastbone, a tense and throbbing thing that was making her hands shake. She had tried, since the beginning, to be conciliatory, building the new realm from the ashes of the old, and it was all falling apart so quickly-

He kept speaking. "They died quickly. The older one-"

"Stop." She felt her gift twine with his as she pulled at it, harnessing a warped tendril of power until she abruptly flipped it and shoved outward in a blind rage.

With a deafening crack, the windows in the room fractured as one; the spiderweb of lines slid along the glass from top to bottom, an eerie dragging sound.

In the heartbeat that followed, every single person in the hall fell to their knees as if shoved.

There was a breath of stunned silence and fear. The courtiers looked like they didn't dare move, frozen in panic. Even Luke, off slightly to her side, was projecting a rolling sense of alarm that she hadn't ever felt from him before.

Ren, though- in the middle of the room and on his knees, Ren was staring at her like she had hung the moon, a mix of vulnerable awe and naked adoration that made her suddenly wish they were alone.

She closed her eyes and tried to master herself. "Retract your confession."

"I will not."

It was infuriating- she could tell that he was lying, could taste the dishonesty on his tongue through her gift, but her word meant nothing if he wouldn't corroborate it. "Retract your confession."

He finally broke his stare, lowering his eyes to the floor, but remained silent.

Pulse now pounding in her ears, Rey raised her fingers to her temples, trying to think. This was a disaster. This was an absolute, complete disaster- she was essentially witnessing his suicide- how could he do this, how could he be so selfish-

No easy solutions.

Mastering herself, she turned slightly to face Finn, still at his post near the dais. To his credit, he had only gone down on one knee, and he didn't look frightened as much as astonished. "Take Prince Ren to the Tower. One of the residential rooms." Rey swept her gaze back over the crowd. "None of you will speak of this. None of you. Not until I have decided how to proceed. If you breathe a word of this- even to your wives or your children- you will live to regret it. If you disobey, I will know." The power was still rattling around in her head and along her spine, like a fist being held tense for too long, the urge to lash out at something growing by the second. How did he manage it, this feeling always living inside his head? Gritting her teeth, she controlled her rage and flexed her fingers, forcibly relaxing herself. It felt like abruptly coming up for air; suddenly drained, she stumbled half a step backwards, ignoring the worried arm that Luke reached out towards her.

All of the sudden, the presence of other people in the room was suffocating.

Trying to look measured, she lowered herself back onto the throne, closing her eyes. "Leave me. All of you."

She refused to watch even as she heard her guards move forward and arrest Ren. As courtiers and ambassadors staggered to their feet and fled the hall, she kept her eyes closed, not able to deal with anything more than the swirling mess of her gift and the way that Ren's mind was suddenly a closed off mystery, no matter how she poked and prodded. It was an aching absence, a phantom limb.

The room was very nearly empty when Luke gently placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze.

She tried to take comfort in it. He would always be an ally- she would never be alone. But the knowledge barely felt like a candle in the face of an oncoming storm.


Author's Notes:

The Tower of London often housed very rich prisoners, and they had nicely furnished rooms and servants to attend to them. Kylo isn't being thrown in a dungeon.

Every time I get discouraged and want to throw this fic aside, I think of the lovely comments from y'all and it helps me persevere. Thank you so much.