Please let this have worked. Kylo thinks this over and over, like a mantra.

Kylo is more nervous about this than anything in his entire life. Because Rey is everything, and now she is all that he has left. There are no guarantees of success, his Master has warned repeatedly. And if this goes wrong, then Kylo will have thrown it all away for nothing.

So he is pensive, shifting his stance with gloved hands trembling, as he stands beside his Master behind the two-way glass window. Rey lays on the other side asleep on a table surrounded by Chief Healer Smath, a couple of medics and a droid.

Rey has been under heavy sedation in and out of a bacta tank for two weeks. It has been the longest two weeks of his life. Slowly, her body has healed and revived. Today finally they will wake her up. Today will reveal if the wife he remembers has truly been resurrected. And so Kylo watches with his heart in his throat.

Please let this have worked. He has sacrificed his only son for this woman.

The healers have repaired not just her current injury but also erased the hurts of the past. Gone is the slave collar's mark he foolishly put on her. Gone are the scars of Jakku from scavenging and from beatings by Unkar Plutt. Gone is the C-section scar from the birth of the boy that never was. All that remains of the Empress' past is the slash on her left palm, boldly distinctive against the pristine canvas of her now flawless skin. It's the scar of love to represent his mark on her heart.

Kylo watches as the droid administers a stim shot. He's holding his breath.

Please let this have worked. I can't live without her.

Beside him, his Master also looks on in rapt attention. Kylo can sense the old Sith's excitement. He too is anxious to learn if his efforts have succeeded. "Do not be alarmed if she is disoriented," his Master cautions. "That is typical."

Rey opens her eyes and stares a moment. Then she abruptly sits up. It's a jerky motion and she nearly falls from the table. A split-second later, she throws out her right arm. The medic droid hits the wall with a loud crash as she hollers, "I'm not telling you anything!"

"Goooood . . . good." His Master cackles with pleasure. "Our fierce scavenger is back. And she still has the Force."

Kylo is concerned that his wife is confused and thinking she's back in a Resistance torture chamber. He doesn't want her to relive those memories. So he makes for the door, but his Master stops him. "Wait."

Kylo reluctantly complies. Together, they watch and listen as Chief Healer Smath speaks to his wife.

. . . sustained extensive blaster injuries and have been in a bacta tank for two weeks . . . not uncommon for there to be some temporary mild memory loss . . . would like to ask you some questions . . .

Rey is nodding at the Chief Healer. Kylo watches as she smooths her hands over the plain medical gown she is wearing. Rey sits perched on the edge of the table, her bare legs swinging slightly.

Beside him, Old Master Snoke smiles like a proud papa. "Now, we shall see what she remembers. I have made a few edits that I think you will appreciate."

Edits? Kylo gulps, imagining the worst.

His Master slants him a sideways glance. "You asked me to selectively remove four years' worth of her memories, Kylo Ren. It was an enjoyable challenge, truly. But a few edits for continuity were in order."

"Of course. Thank you, Master." Kylo is so nervous he can't stand still. His Rey is awake and talking. But is she still his Rey?

Who are you?

I'm no one.

Let me ask that differently. What is your name?

Rey.

Rey what?

Just Rey.

His Master begins to elaborate. "She does not remember Sheev. And since there is no child, I have omitted your clumsy transgression on the Starkiller. She remembers that she refused to train with Skywalker and left the Resistance to return to Jakku. And there you came for her, to take her away from the suffering you had previously glimpsed in her mind. You took her to your grandfather's castle and slowly wooed her." Old Snoke smiles slightly. He's enjoying telling this. "You were gentle but ruthless, much as I might have been. Until one night she could no longer resist and she begged you to accept her surrender. So you slashed her hand in the moonlight, pledged as Sith and took your virgin bride to bed." The Sith Master shoots his Apprentice a meaningful look. "Take a lesson here, Kylo Ren. The best predators always make their victim somewhat complicit. If you can, let a woman corrupt herself. It's so much more satisfying that way, I have found."

You have a surname. Can you remember it?

I have no surname. Ask Kylo, he'll tell you it's true.

Good, good. You remember Kylo. Who is Kylo?

Kylo is my husband. Can I see him? I want to see Kylo.

She remembers him. The relief makes him exhale. And Rey keeps glancing over at the glass. Does she know that he is here? If so, that's an encouraging sign. Maybe she even feels him through the Force.

Yes, you will get to see him soon. You have your husband's surname. What is Kylo's last name?

Solo, I guess. Kylo is the son of Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa Solo.

Please relax and think again. Han Solo was a Rebellion general who died sabotaging the Starkiller base. And Leia Organa Solo was a Resistance general. They are both enemies of the First Order. I'm afraid they are not the parents of er . . . Kylo.

The tall Muun grins at this exchange between Rey and the Chief Healer. But he does not interrupt to explain. "I have softened your tempestuous history together," he reveals. "Now your wife has never known the back of your hand. Never known the cutting edge of your tongue. Never known anything but the love and protection of her beloved Sith. She knows who you are, Kylo Ren. But she is safe and secure in the knowledge that you will protect her from the worst of yourself." The old Muun catches his eye and winks slyly. It's a bizarre gesture, and it tells him that his Master is well pleased with himself. And that alone is immensely encouraging. "For her alone, you shall be a conventionally moral man. Such is her privilege as your wife."

Kylo's last name might be Skywalker.

No, ma'am. That's the Jedi's name. Your husband is not a Jedi. We can skip on to something else now.

Kylo's mother was Darth Vader's daughter. I guess she should have been Leia Skywalker. Darth Vader was once a Jedi named Skywalker.

"Poor Smath," his Master is enjoying how befuddled the Chief Healer is by Rey's answers. Only Smath thinks Rey is the one who is befuddled. "Be sure to tell his staff to feed her. Your wife is far too thin." His Master leers at him man to man. "Now that she is recovered, we need to give you something to hold onto in the dark."

Okay, let's move on. Where are you from?

Jakku.

Jakku is the site of a famous battle, but the planet itself is barely inhabited. Are you sure you are not from a Core world? Coruscant, perhaps?

I'm a scavenger and a mechanic from Jakku.

"She truly is no one," his Master comments after this exchange. "Her spice addict mother sold her to slavers on Jakku for a hit. If there was a father, he is nowhere in her memories. The girl was sick when she was sold, so the slavers didn't want her. So, they turned her over to that foul Unkar Plutt."

"Really?" Kylo is surprised at this news. And disappointed somewhat. He had from time to time entertained fantastic theories of his incredibly Force-strong wife being descended from Jedi lineage, as the granddaughter of a long ago wayward romance. Once, he had even wondered if she might have a connection to old Palpatine giving her patrician dialect. "But what of her accent?" Kylo wonders.

His Master grins and chuckles. "The accent is from old holonet tapes she listened to for hours to teach herself to read, write and speak perfect textbook Basic. Her accent is utterly fake and completely convincing."

His Master muses for a moment. "Actually, I'm not surprised by her origins. For the Light mostly casts its spell amid the wretched refuse of our galaxy. It burns brightest in all those tired, poor, huddled masses yearning to be free." The old Muun shrugs. "There is a certain nobility to their struggle. Yes, the Force has a marvelous sense of irony, my Apprentice. It gives us Core World princes who are idiots and a Tatooine slave who is the Chosen One. And now it has given us back our scavenger Empress."

What is your last memory?

There was battle on a ship. I was hit with blaster bolt. First on my arm and then on my chest. Kylo was there. He was coming to save me.

Yes. You were in a firefight aboard a Resistance freighter. Do you remember what was happened before you were shot?

I remember talking to Luke Skywalker.

What did you talk about?

He wanted me to go back to the Resistance.

Go back?

I fought with the Resistance.

Think again now. You are married to Kylo Ren of the First Order.

I might still be in the First Order records as a fugitive. You'd have to ask my husband about that. Can I see Kylo? I want to see him.

"She's all there, Kylo Ren. It is a success." His Master is puffed up with pride for his accomplishment. "Whatever small gaps you uncover in her memory can be explained away by her injury and by the interrogation drugs the Resistance gave her."

Relief must show plainly on his face, but Kylo doesn't care. For the last two weeks, he has been preparing himself for all manner of disappointments. Cautioning himself that whatever woman awaited him might not be the Rey he has known and loved.

"Kylo Ren," his Master drags his attention back from his wife. "If ever you try to kill me, you had best succeed. For if you fail, I will kill you and then I will show her the truth. And she will know all that you have done to her and to her son and she will hate your memory forever."

"Yes, Master."

Then the door opens and a defeated looking Chief Healer Smath walks in. "Supreme Leader, Your Excellency," Smath bows slightly to the two men who stand before him. "It saddens me to report that the Empress is highly confused about certain things. But there is hope that in time, things will-"

"She's fine," Kylo cuts him off. "Just fine, Smath."

The eternal Muun looks amused. "Indeed," he agrees in his gravelly, slow tones. "Come, my Apprentice. Let us welcome your lady home."

Kylo follows him into Rey's room. The smile of recognition on her face warms his heart. Yes, his Rey is back. He's starting to relax a little.

His Master steps forward to take up his wife's left hand. "How pleased am I that you are recalled to life, my dear. Such a pleasure to have our Lady Rey recovered."

"Thank you, Supreme Leader," Rey answers formally with the slightest nod. Sitting in her medical gown and bare feet she still has all the dignity of Lady Ren at her most ceremoniously attired. Kylo can't help but grin. How he has missed his Rey.

The old Muun trails a bony finger down her cheek. It's a small caress but possessive all the same and it raises alarms in Kylo. This close and in the bright lights of the medical chamber, the tall Muun is a nightmare to behold. With barely healed holes in his collapsed face and thin, almost transparent skin. But his wife shows no aversion or surprise. Rey is completely at ease with the old Muun's touch, and suddenly Kylo is concerned that perhaps his Master has made edits to her memory for more than continuity. For his wife is smiling up at his old Master as if she truly likes him. As if she knows him.

Snoke cups her cheek now as he intones, "I am your resurrection and your life. For those few who merit the love of a Sith will live, even if they die." The Sith Master turns to Kylo and reaches for his left hand, joining it now with Rey's. Her hand is warm and soft, like he remembers. Not the cold, stiff corpse he had lain at his Master's feet on that awful day.

"My lady, I give you back to my Apprentice now. Second chances are rare. So treat her well, Kylo Ren. For if you disappoint her or disappoint me, I shall take her back." Then his Master leans down and in towards Rey. Kylo watches in horrified fascination as the Muun plants a chaste kiss on his wife's lips. "Now and forever shall you belong to the Sith," his Master admonishes.

Rey just smiles serenely.

Kylo speaks, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Thank you, my Master. Thank you."

Old Darth Plagueis nods and then departs, his long dark robes trailing in his wake.

And at long last, they are alone.

Kylo is still holding Rey's hand. He stares at her, blinking almost in disbelief. This is what he has been waiting for, hoping for, yearning for. His Master had banished him from his stronghold for the duration of Rey's recovery. The old Sith had been mindful as ever to safeguard his Darkest secrets in the Force. And so Kylo had been denied even the ability to sit with Rey in her convalescence.

His last memory of Rey is of her lifeless and broken body lying on the floor of his Master's audience chamber. But the woman before him now is pink cheeked and healthy, with bright eyes and a soft smile just for him. She dazzles him now, like she once had dazzled him at Bast.

"Oh, Rey," he steps forward to clasp her tightly in his arms. "My Rey." He presses her cheek firmly against his heart as he closes his eyes to revel in the moment. "I love you, Rey." He clings to her and she clings back.

"You are the Emperor now, aren't you?" Rey's voice is muffled into his chest.

"Yes." Kylo strokes her hair. His wife has awoken after a momentous two weeks of change in the galaxy. And there is more change to come. "I am the Emperor. But for you, Rey, I am a slave. There's nothing I won't do for you, Rey." He pulls her tighter, holding on as if for dear life. "Nothing," he repeats.

This is the happiest moment of his life, he thinks. His Rey is returned to his side. This makes his awful sacrifice worth it.

And he owes it all to old Darth Plagueis. His Sith Master never lets him down.

Kylo has everything now he thought he ever wanted. The goals he plotted and killed for have been achieved. The holonet calls him His Excellency and his Master now addresses him as Lord Ren. Once more, the Sith rule the galaxy.

But there is more, and it's something he never knew he wanted. Collected along the way by accident or perhaps by design. It's hard to tell, for mysterious are the ways of the Force. She is in his arms now, the woman he calls wife and the galaxy knows as his Empress. Recalled to life and restored to his side where she belongs.

Unnatural as it is, the Dark Side has given back the Light that was taken from him.

Time confirms that the memories of the boy who never was have been wiped clean from Rey's mind. Kylo takes measures to ensure that his wife will never know of their son's existence. Will never feel the pain of his loss. Will never learn the secret of Kylo's betrayal. It took only a few executions to ensure that no one dare speak of the little boy who once had the run of the Finalizer. The Emperor will tolerate no mention of his son who was brutally slaughtered when the Jedi ambushed his family.

The pain is too fresh and too deep, his officers whisper behind his back. The Jedi murdered his son and nearly killed his wife, they say to one another. And don't forget, someone always points out, the Jedi killed another child as well. And then the rescue of the Empress from D'Qar is retold in lurid and sympathetic detail.

In time, Kylo knows, the truth will fade into rumor and then into speculation and then into nothing. And one day, no one but he, his Master and Milo will remember the boy who never was.

And this is how it will continue, Kylo thinks, as he holds his precious Rey close. He will take care of her. And all his Rey will ever know is comfort, happiness and him. No harm will ever touch her. No painful hurt can beleaguer her thoughts. He will not allow it.

For this is what it means to be loved by a Sith. This is the privilege of the Emperor's Lady.

What she doesn't know, can't hurt her.

Rey has it all planned out. She will wait for Kylo on the landing platform, as usual. And as long as he's alone, he will take off his mask and kiss her in full view of the troopers. He loves doing that—he knows it embarrasses her. He also knows she kind of likes it. Then Rey will tell him right then and there. Before he can start squinting at her changed Force imprint and reading her thoughts and doing all those habitually obsessive Kylo quirks that ruin every surprise.

Rey knows just what to say. She'll tell him that something wonderful has happened. That's she's pregnant. And then Kylo will smile and say that this is the happiest moment of his life.

And Kylo will mean it. Truly.

Rey knows how hard her husband took the loss of their unborn child at the hands of the Resistance. After catching Kylo brooding one too many times, Rey finally asked why one night over dinner. He didn't meet her eyes, and that spoke volumes. For Kylo shares everything with her.

"I wish our child had lived," was all he had said. "I see him—I mean her-sometimes in the Force." Rey had nodded and reached to cover Kylo's hand with her own. She too had grieved their daughter lost to torture drugs. "Don't look back, Kylo. Only look forward. We will have another baby one day."

Her words had brought him no solace. So she watched in silence as Kylo pushed his plate away and stalked across the room to pour himself a generous glass of Corellian brandy. Then he had wandered outside to the balcony to stare out at the darkened terrace. He's always looking out at the terrace when they are at home here at Bast.

Rey had left him alone with his thoughts. They don't talk about Padme Ren.

But this news will begin to make things right. And it is the final piece of Kylo's glorious future to fall into place. His foes have all been vanquished, his Second Empire has been founded and the Force is no longer fractured. And now, the future of their family will be secure.

His Master will be pleased. Very pleased.

Rey smiles to herself, thinking how obnoxiously overbearing Kylo is about to become. He'll be haranguing her to eat. Again, there will be an endless parade of healers to examine her like after she was shot. And he will keep her under lock and key, fearful as always that the past will repeat itself. It will be annoying, but it will be worth it.

She's leaning against the balcony railing, wondering whether the room that adjoins hers might make a good nursery when she hears her name.

"Rey!" Kylo says it emphatically, urgently. She whirls in surprise.

"What are you doing back? Your shuttle isn't expected for at least another hour."

He's staring at her, black eyes sparking. "Rey?" Her name is a question now and he's grinning ear to ear and damn the man he already knows her secret. The fucking Force spilled the beans. Kylo keeps walking towards her. "Rey?"

And then she forgets to tell him that something wonderful has happened. She just squeals and runs into his waiting arms. "I'm pregnant!" Her grin matches his. "I found out three days ago."

"It's hard to miss. What-are you giving birth to Yoda? Your Force imprint is huge!"

"It's twins!" she shouts gleefully.

"Twins? Really?" Her husband looks shocked. "I guess that explains it." He nods and whispers aloud with satisfaction, "Two more Skywalkers."

"Twins run in the family," she reminds him lightly.

"Yes, that's very Padme of you." Kylo looks like he might burst with pride. "But don't get any ideas—we're not naming them Luke and Leia."

She snorts. "Gods, I hope not. That would be bad luck. And besides, I'm not letting you name our son Leia."

"What?"

"Twin boys, Kylo. It's twin boys!"

Now Kylo definitely is going to burst with pride. Watching his reaction just now might be the best part of the surprise.

"Your Master is going to high five you over this, isn't he?" Rey teases. "You're going to strut in there and tell him you just sired him two more Sith."

"Hell, yeah!" Kylo is beaming. He looks absurdly smug. "Just think-two more Skywalker princes to rule the galaxy."

Rey rolls her eyes. Her husband never gets tired of plotting his legacy. "This twin thing could be tricky," Rey thinks aloud, suddenly wondering how sibling rivalry will work for sons raised by her ultra-competitive, ambitious Dark Side husband. Does one kid get the Core Worlds and the other the Rim? Hmmmm. . . "I hope there's not a good twin and a bad twin," Rey muses. It would be just like the Force to fuck with them like that.

"Of course not," Kylo assures her with a big smacking kiss. He's gleeful now too. "There will be two bad twins. My boys will be born to be Sith."

Rey groans. "I'm already feeling a bit outnumbered. I've just gone from one Sith to three."

"Yes, good thing there's no more Rule of Two."

That makes her chuckle and he laughs a little too until he catches her frown.

"What? What is it?"

"Oh, I don't know." Rey looks down for a moment, betraying her insecurity. She has wanted to get pregnant again for so long. But now that it's happened, it's kind of intimidating. And twins! "I just . . . I just hope I'm up for this. This is a huge responsibility. And you know I didn't grow up with parents. I don't know how to be a good mother. I might mess this up, Kylo."

Suddenly, he looks very serious. "Oh, Rey," Kylo stares down at her. "You will be an excellent mother."

Rey screws up her face, slightly skeptical. "Do really you think so?"

"I know so. And I'm counting on it. Boys need their mothers."

His confidence encourages her and brings back her smile.

"Rey," Kylo is holding both of her hands now. He has that earnest, romantic look in his eyes that he gets when he talks about the Force, their future and their family. All his life, she knows, Kylo has looked away to the future. First the future was his empire, and now the future is their family. But always plotting, her Sith is. "Thank you, Rey. For this and for everything."

Rey smiles up at him, but then is distracted by the sound of an ion engine winding down. She looks up to see Kylo's command shuttle swooping down to descend onto the landing pad. "Wait—that's your ship. How did you get here?" she wants to know.

"I flew."

Rey raises an eyebrow. Kylo never flies his own ship. It would require her perpetually multi-tasking Emperor husband to put down his datapad.

"Come," he grabs her hand, suddenly looking like a mischievous little boy. "I have a surprise for you too. It's not nearly as good as yours, but I think you'll like it. It's on the landing pad."

That piques her interest and Rey is off and half-running.

"Wait—slow down! Don't rush. You might trip. And you're probably not supposed to exert yourself, right? Maybe I should just carry you."

Exert herself? Carry her? She's just walking fast down the hallway. Rey rolls her eyes. "Stop fussing, Kylo." It going to be like this for the next nine months, isn't it? She told him she was pregnant all of five minutes ago and her husband is already acting insufferable. Just to tweak him, she laughs and speeds up and now he's chasing her down the hallway and outside.

Sitting on the Bast landing pad is the prototype TIE she flew months ago on the Finalizer. It is painted the reverse of the Order's usual black with red paint job. This TIE is completely red with black accents. It's a gorgeous ship and a sweet state-of-the-art piece of tech.

"Wow!" is all she can manage.

"It's yours, Rey." Kylo hovers over her, anxious about her reaction. "I had them remove the ventral cannon. Knew you wouldn't like that."

"They went ahead and built it with the canon?" Rey frowns her disapproval.

Milo emerges from the far side of the TIE he's been expecting. "Very nice," the old keeper approves. "Fast with lots of style."

"Vader would approve?" Rey teases the old keeper.

"Oh, yes, Lord Vader would approve." Milo smiles and nods. "And he would have loved the red."

"Do you like it?" Kylo asks her anxiously.

Rey throws her arms around him. "I love it!" she grins before pulling his head down for a kiss.

THE END