Author's Note: Just a quick update. Sorry about the erratic schedule but life has been chaos and I'm just trying to survive it! As always, all grammatical mistakes and errors are mine and mine alone. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I simply play in their world.

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"How had it turned into this,

she who had lived her whole

life without him, and

now she could barely

make it through an hour."

-Amanda Hocking

"You must be well favored to sit so high."

A voice to conjure storms, lightning flecked and captivating.

I jerk my head up and stare at the black-clad archer. The hood of his cowl is pulled down so only the lower half of his face is visible. Strong jaw, clean shaven. Full, sensual mouth curved just barely into a smile and I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in warning.

Either I am losing my touch in keeping watch or he knows how to move unseen and unheard.

If the former, my brothers would set me on night guard for a month, but if it is the latter...

"You presume much." I feign nonchalance in hopes of throwing the archer off, "I am finishing a commission, nothing more."

"I presume nothing but what my eyes tell me fair lady."

His tone is both mocking and playful, silken with innuendo and it leaves me bewildered. Nothing of this behavior had been apparent on the field and I shove my work aside to concentrate on this man who has sought me out of his own accord.

"Then you should not believe all that you see, good archer."

He moves close enough I can see a small, slight scar on the lower right side of his neck before it disappears into the cowl.

The sun is at his back, allowing him to keep his identity hidden even though he is standing at the edge of the stair. It is most vexing and I have the urge to reach out and pull his hood down so I can see the color of his eyes.

A frown upon his lips and the strange fluttering of my heart becomes a fury, beating against the caged bones holding it back. It is disconcerting, I have not had such a reaction to a male upon first glance since...

Sir Kylo.

I mentally shake myself. This archer cannot be him...can it?

I note the breadth of his shoulders, the lean taper of his hips. His hands are covered and I wonder, if removed, they would bear the same scars as the one I remember seeing on Kylo's hands at the riverbank.

What is wrong with me? I cannot shake him from my thought and now I am seeing him in this hooded archer!

"Why do you not break your fast? Everyone else has taken their meal yet you sit alone."

His question shakes me from my speculations and I let out a short huff, rolling my eyes and forgetting such things are not befitting a lady.

"I have been given orders to finish a commission," I hold up the half-formed knot of scarlet and purple ribbons, "before the contest is decided. I still have another to weave and little time to spare."

He makes a sound of displeasure and reaches into a pouch at his waist, pulling forth an apple of rosy hue and my mouth waters at the sight.

"You have a poor master to leave you in such a way."

I am stunned by the implication and hot anger pulses through my veins. "I am free and freeborn. Do not presume to think anyone can own me."

He leans against the banister, tossing the apple with ease and I watch it flash in the sun. I can practically taste the peel on my tongue, the sweet juice sliding down my throat.

Damn him! He is doing this a purpose!

"Oh? Then why not leave and come back to the task? I daresay your stomach would thank you for it."

My stomach decided to agree with him and lets out a terrible growl. I clasp a hand over it, mortified when he chuckles. He sounds far too smug for my liking.

"I cannot leave, otherwise I will lose my commission."

As well as the information I might gather if I can stay a bit longer in this circle of nobility.

Unless by some slight chance we can infiltrate the upper ranks before the Autumn Hunt, this will be our best hope to set a plan that might actually end the war.

"No doubt the glint of gold will sustain you. I might have guessed as much from a merchant."

I glare at him, no longer delighted by his appearance. This raven archer is as vexing as Sir Kylo.

Why is it that I can only find men who know how to mock me?

First my brothers, then Sir Kylo and now this archer. I must live a cursed life, I swear.

"So speaks one who has never known hunger. To wonder if even a meager loaf of hard bread is out of reach."

Memories of the past slip into my waking world and loosen my tongue.

...the taste of bitter berries...retching in the dirt as uncooked wild onions and the same berries come back up...

"Oi! Get out here, someone call the guard! Thief!"

A hard clout to my ear...the fresh roll I snatched falling into shit as I run, blood dribbling down my neck...I escape but have nothing to show for it. Nothing but cold water and another night of empty hunger...

"Here. Take it."

The bite in his tone scatters my memories like dry leaves in the wind and I come back to myself with a harsh jerk. He is holding the apple for me to take. I shake my head, utterly baffled by the sudden change of heart.

"Why offer it now? Did you not just mock me moments ago?

"My intent was not to cause you sorrow. I would make amends."

His soft words slip through my defenses as no amount of false flattery could achieve. I am on my feet, my half-formed bands tumbling as I reach for his gift with a greed he accused me of having only seconds ago.

Never take any 'gift' without first learning of the intent behind it. You will soon find out, young Rey, nothing in life comes without cost.

Master Kenobi's words ring in my mind and I barely manage to stop myself from snatching the apple out of his waiting hand. It will be nightfall by the time I leave this place and no doubt the keep will have shut down the tavern. The thought of going without food, even for a single night, leaves a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

But neither do I wish to be indebted to this stranger.

"Why do you hesitate?"

I sigh and push back a strand of hair, deciding to give him the truth. Trying to keep another lie straight inside my head is going to cause me problems if I am not careful.

"I have learned nothing is freely given." I stare wistfully at the fruit, aching for a single taste, "What must I do for the apple?"

His body grows rigid as his hand drops, clenching the apple. I wonder if I have offended him and should have simply pretended to be the greedy merchant and taken the apple without complaint. I am once more baffled by his shift in behavior.

"You ask a dangerous question."

His voice sounds strained and I swear I will never understand what goes through the male mind.

"I merely asked what you wish in exchange, how is that so strange?"

A shake of his head and laughter with an edge wraps around my senses, leaving me off-balance.

"You have led a sheltered life if you do not know." He waves a hand at me, "I regret I have not the time to teach you the difference."

I tilt my head, at once curious and annoyed by his conjecture. I certainly have not led a sheltered life. I can ride and fight as well as any knight on the killing field. I have spilled my fair share of blood and I doubt there is any other this side of Bespin who can read woodcraft better than I.

If he thinks I am going to sit here and be made fun of, he is sorely mistaken.

"I-"

"Would you shoot me for it?"

His interruption disrupts my outrage and I cannot tell if he is serious or once more teasing me just for the sake of doing so. I fold my arms and shake my head. He must think me addled to accept such a one-sided bargain.

"If I could out-shoot you, do you believe I would be sitting here making trinkets for a handful of coins?"

Husky laughter and my body clenches, aching at the sudden heat burning me from within. I grip my arms, feeling oddly vulnerable around him and wishing I understood why his laughter is affecting me so strangely.

"A favor then."

His concession came far too easily and it makes me wary. I lower my arms and wonder what new game he is attempting to play now.

"What favor?"

He rests a foot on the first step, extending his hand and the apple it holds in sweet temptation.

"A kiss for luck so I might win the contest."

It is not his absurd request making my heart leap in eagerness. I...I have been away from civilization for too long and have gotten used to men treating me like another man instead of a maid. I have seen and heard more than one young swain try to swindle a kiss from a passing maid in my days since coming to Leese.

I have been in the sun far too long if I am thinking of freely giving up a kiss to this stranger.

But he doesn't seem like a stranger. He feels like some long, lost dream I am only starting to remember and desperately wish to hold onto.

"Shall I take your silence as acceptance for trade then?"

His cajoling tone brings me back to my senses before I make a fool out of myself.

"For a single apple? You must think me mad or addled," I flick my fingers at him, laughing off his request, "win the contest and then I will grant your favor. Pick again or be on your way, I have work to finish."

"Your words wound my heart," I grin at his grumbling, "but if you insist..."

"I do."

"Then I will take your token to bring me luck."

"I...what? But I don't...I mean-"

I know what he's asking for, it's the same ones I've been weaving for hours but I don't have a personal token. I've never given one to anyone, not even my brothers.

He must have sensed my hesitation because the apple disappears from my sight.

"No-wait, you cannot-"

"You asked me to pick again and so I have. An apple for a token, it is your turn to choose.

I really wanted that apple. I couldn't explain the ravenous longing clawing at me to take it from him. I knew I could not put him off again if I refused a third time.

It's just a bit of ribbon and a stamped piece of metal. It doesn't mean anything. He is just teasing me and will no doubt toss it away as soon as he leaves.

"Very well, we have an agreement."

The apple reappears and I am half-way down the stairs, eager to finally have it for my own. I reach for it, my fingers inches from the shiny peel before he snatches it away, hiding it behind his back.

"Wait! I-"

"The token first."

I glare at him but he steps away to lean against the banister with careless grace. A ghost of a smile hovers on his mouth as he keeps his hands firmly behind his back.

The Force take him and his teasing!

"You are not playing fair sir."

"I do not recall saying I would. If you wish the apple, keep your end of the bargain."

I shake my head, exasperated and amused by his forestalling and my own absurd behavior over a silly bit of fruit.

"I...oh...fine. Token first. Do not move."

A slight bow of his head in acknowledgment and I turn my back on him, ignoring the slight tickle in my throat that feels like laughter. I hike my skirts and take the stairs two at a time, reaching for my pack I left by the railing.

I ignore the fact it takes me two tries to untie the lacing, my hands shaking with unwanted nervousness. I dig through the pouches containing already made bands.

I can't give him this.

I finger the blue and white ribbon, the pewter stamp that marks allies. He is no ally of our outlaw band.

No, what he wanted was something more...personal. I was going to have to weave something entirely new.

I bite my lip and pull out ribbons of pure white and jade green along with the silver token stamped with the Winter Nigelia.

Alderaan's flower. The symbol of enduring faith.

"I'm still waiting."

"Then you will wait a bit longer. Practice a little of that patience you showed on yon field!"

A derisive snort from him and I smile, weaving his token as quickly as I can. My fingers are still trembling no matter how much I tell myself I am being foolish and wasting precious time.

There, it is done.

White and jade intertwined with the silver disk hanging from the end, winking as the sun catches the metal. White for the Force, jade for my home in Dathomir. I gather the folds of my skirt in one hand and make my way down the stairs, stopping at the third to last stair.

It puts me at a height higher than his and it pleases me to be able to look down at him.

He tilts his head up but the cowl does its job well and I can only see the outline of his face.

Dark eyes of an uncertain hue stare back at me with disconcerting intensity and I find I cannot look away. His gloved hands rests light over mine on the wooden frame. The sun has warmed the leather and it seeps into my flesh and I curl my fingers into the grain.

A whisper, perhaps something from the Force, telling me we have done this before, he and I. It leaves me reeling as I try to regain my sense of self.

"Here," I don't know why I'm whispering, "is your trade."

He digs into his pouch, pulling out the rosy fruit, his eyes never leaving mine. It feels as if we are the only two living creatures in existence.

I have his token and he has my apple. But neither of our hands are free for he still holds mine captive on the railing. It is an odd feeling. I desire the fruit yet I am reluctant to be free of his touch.

His fingers slip beneath mine, turning over my empty palm and I feel the smooth hardness of the apple touch my skin. My fingers curl around it immediately and still he has not asked for his token.

Does he not want it? My heart clenches in disappointment to think he was merely toying with me this entire time. I begin to wonder if Poe and Finn were not mistaken in telling me all men outside the Resistance were cads and not to be trusted.

He lifts his hand between us, palm upward and waiting.

Why is he...oh...oh!

Of course, I had forgotten. It is my token and therefore I must give it to him freely. Heat stings my face I tell myself it is merely the sun as I lower the band into his gloved hand. He closes his fist around it until only the sigil is visible. My stomach tightens and I suck in a silent breath when he presses his mouth to it in a silent kiss.

His eyes remain locked with mine and I tremble violently as my head and my heart go to war. My head is screaming to give back to apple, to not make this bargain and to remain free. My heart is whispering to give him more than a just a cold piece of metal to kiss.

"My thanks."

His soft whisper is like a clap of thunder and I am left floundering when he abruptly turns away, the contact between us broken and there is hollow ache in my breast because of it.

He is at the base of the stairs before I can gather my wits and remember how to speak.

"Wait!"

He halts and tilts his head to the side, giving me only the sight of his curved jaw. The token is no longer visible and I wonder, briefly, what he has done with it in so short a time.

"What is it?"

He sounds distracted and more than a bit impatience. I can feel time slipping away from us and a senses of urgency grips me tight and I cannot let him leave just yet.

"I don't know your name."

"Why should that matter?"

His response is callous and it stings at my pride.

"Because I would like to know the name of the man who holds my favor."

It feels like begging and I hate myself for doing it and him for forcing it upon me and yet...I must know his name.

"Should I win, I will give you my name and claim your forfeit."

His words are softer than a morning breeze and yet they pierce me like one of his sharpened arrows. Only too late to I remember the careless words I spoke when making our bargain.

"Win the contest and then I will grant your favor."

I grip the apple tightly, alarmed by his words and yet I cannot deny the anticipation of such a possibility. But I am also pragmatic and ask the most obvious question.

"What if you lose?"

A slight shrug of his broad shoulders as if the concept of losing had not crossed his thoughts. "Then you will have to settle for an apple to remember me."

I am not satisfied with his answer because it isn't one!

"That is not good enough and I-damnation!"

The crowds have returned and before I can get down the stairs in this dratted gown, he disappears into their midst. The cries of vendors, the screams of children and mother's chasing after them hamper my ability to find him.

I could make a fool of myself by chasing after him but I stay where I am at.

"You idiot," I mutter as I stomp back up to the dais before the nobles return, "why did you not ask for my name...unless you already know who I am."

I settle myself and stare at the apple. If he doesn't win...will this really be all that I have to remember him by?

I bite into it ruthlessly and sweet juices slide down my throat. It tastes of summer. It tastes of a promise. I devour it and lick my fingers clean afterward.

I pray to the Force and to the forgotten gods, that he wins.

Because I am almost certain he is Kylo.

It was the brief glimpse of his eyes beneath his cowl, the same piercing gaze making my heart forget its place, that convinces me they are one and the same.

Please...you have to be him. My heart cannot be so fickle a creature as to desire two different men.