The sound of distant waves crashing against the beach did little to keep the silence between them from weighing on her.
Rey turned on her side, away from him, and curled into a protective position. Though she didn't speak, her mind was working at a furious pace to justify what had just occurred. Her natural instinct was to jump up and immediately find her clothing. To be so exposed before him, now that her moment of weakness had passed, was terrifying.
And she would have done just that, if only… if only… he weren't laying there, completely still, his eyes wide and open, transfixed upon the ceiling as though he were terrified of it suddenly collapsing on him.
Resolved to do something, she swallowed hard and gave a short, heavy sigh.
"This was… a mistake," she began, "I think we should get up and continue on to Korriban… and forget this."
She waited a moment, hoping her words would force him to move or respond in some way. It would be easier to dress if he were doing the same.
"Kylo?" she whispered.
She waited, but received no answer. With another heavy sigh, she wrapped her arms across her chest, shielding her nudity, and made to sit up, but he was faster. His arm, heavy and restraining, slid around her, and held her down.
"You still believe you can escape," he hissed against her ear. This was not a question, his words were spoken in certainty.
"I will not be your weapon, nor will I be your plaything," she snapped.
"I am offering you freedom. Freedom from Luke Skywalker's vapid dogma—freedom from a life of servitude to insipid bureaucrats. Your Resistance is just as flawed as the Senate itself. How do you think we discovered that General Organa was searching for Skywalker? Our intel comes from the highest ranks of your ridiculous little army. Do you think your leaders can't be bought?"
"You're a liar. You can't offer me freedom, not when you're more a slave than I will ever—"
"Sshh!" he warned, wrapping his hand over her mouth. "I've been very, very patient with you. I've treated you well, protected you, trained you. I could have tortured you. I could have broken you…"
His fingers curled against her face, stroking her cheek as he spoke.
"I have never lied to you—unlike Luke Skywalker. What more would you have me do?"
"Release me," she mumbled through his fingers.
His hand moved to her hair, which had mostly come undone, and she winced as he tugged at one of the remaining twists, pulling it loose and smoothing the strands behind her ear.
"Release you? What do you think would come of it? Do you think you could go back to the way things were? Would you be Skywalker's padawan again? Could you follow him still, even knowing that he lied to you about your abilities? Do you think you can escape me, even if you run to the farthest corner of the galaxy? You and I… you and I are…" His words trailed off, and though she would not look at him, she could feel his eyes upon her.
"That may be," she murmured. "Perhaps I never will escape you, but I can assure you that you will never turn me. I will never embrace the dark side-"
"Perhaps not," he conceded, twisting one long strand of her dark hair slowly around his finger.
Rey moved to push his hand away, but he caught her by the wrist and lifted her hand to his lips, lightly kissing her thumb before gently biting it. She shivered and finally dared to look at him. The intensity he stared back at her with caused her to flush.
"Is it… is it always going to be like this?" she whispered.
"Not usually, no. It was over too quickly. I'm not always so—"
"No I didn't mean…" Rey's attempt at reassurance collapsed into a strange sort of laugh that seemed to force its way out of her. "Even Kylo Ren finds the sun on the other side of the dune stronger," she said, smothering her laughter behind her hand.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice gentle. He was still watching her intently.
"Nothing. An old saying we have on Jakku. Life there… every part of your life was so focused on survival—scavengers are loners mostly. It's dangerous to trust someone else, but that didn't mean that it never happened. Sometimes, among the younger ones, two would pair off, and for a time, they would leave Niima Outpost at night and meet somewhere out among the dunes. And then time would go by and one would steal a ration from the other, or one might help themselves to a bit of the other's scrap haul, or maybe they might begin to meet another person out there in the dunes at night. It never ends well. The old ones would say all sort of stupid things came out of a person's mouth on the other side of the dune—the sun was stronger on that side, it cooked their brains. It was supposed to be funny, because the young ones were meeting out there at night. What they meant was that people will say all sort of ridiculous things after they… well, I suppose you know what I mean."
When she realized that he was still watching her thoughtfully, she flushed again.
"I don't mean to say that you're ridiculous," she mumbled.
Instead of answering, he traced one finger slowly down the side of her neck and then down her chest, his eyes following his hand. Rey swallowed nervously.
"I remember you here… in this house," she said. "Why? When I was little, whenever I closed my eyes at night, I would see you here. Standing on the balcony, looking out over the sea, or sometimes walking along the shore. Always silent, alone…"
His hand moved to her hip, gripping it tightly for a moment before he released her to run his fingers lightly down her leg and up again.
"And then you were gone…" she remembered. "And then it was just the house, and the island and the water, and I wondered for a long time what had happened."
He dropped his head to kiss the hollow at the base of her neck.
"That's when Snoke found you, wasn't it? That's when you… when you turned."
His nails scratched lightly across her inner thigh, and Rey sucked in a sharp breath.
"Why are we going to Korriban? You haven't said a word about it and I-"
Her voice was muffled against his lips as he kissed her, his hand moving just as quickly to slide beneath her and press her to himself, and against her leg she could feel him grow hard again. For the briefest of moments she welcomed it, the heat of his body, the pressure of his hand, the anticipation between her legs… all of this quickly becoming something she wanted, craved even.
Pushing off from him, she rolled to her side, and took a quick breath of air, steeling herself.
"No!" she said.
"No?" he repeated, and she thought she heard him laugh to himself under his breath.
"No. It was a mistake. I was weak. Confused. You've kept me a prisoner, you've hurt me, tortured me with your sick training, manipulated me. I won't. I won't do this again! I don't trust you. Can't you understand that? This is all part of your plan. This is about you and control and not about… not about.."
"Not about what, Rey?" he asked, his voice unbearably calm.
Instead of answering, she curled in on herself, bringing her knees to her chest and closing her mouth against the ridiculous thing that wanted to suggest itself.
"Do you want me to love you, Rey?"
"Shut-up. You aren't capable of such a thing."
"Was it always about love for you, little Rey? Even on Jakku, when it was fast and hard out on the sand.. was it love then, or just a need?"
She flinched at the suggestion. Was that what he thought? She had never had a need on Jakku for such a thing. She was scarcely able to keep herself fed.
"I don't want to be here anymore. I don't need this place, this island. I don't need that boy either. I found what I was looking for, and I sleep fine at night. Somewhere my friends are waiting for me to come home, somewhere my master is searching for me, and because of that, you'll never be able to turn me. Do what you will."
She reached down and snatched her discarded tunic from the floor, pulling it over her head roughly. Without turning to see his reaction, she left swiftly, fleeing the abandoned house to run anywhere else.
There was nowhere to go of course, nowhere to run to. The island was too small and the ocean too large. At least within the ship she could close a physical door against his presence—have the small comfort in the false illusion that she could keep him out.
At the bottom of the ramp DD-13 stood at silent attention.
"Patient Rey, may I complete my directive now?" the droid asked.
"I… umm… I don't remember what we were—"
"MT-5927 left something in my possession that I was ordered to give to you when not in the presence of any member of the first order," he reminded her.
"Yeah, yeah, I suppose so. What is it, DeeDee?"
In answer, the droid extended his arm. The cover of the small surplus storage snapped open, and there, were extra steri-shots or bacti-ointment was normally kept, gleamed the hilt of a lightsaber.
The lightsaber she had lost on the Resurrection Field after she was first captured.
Her head cleared instantly.
"I thought it was lost," she muttered, reaching for it.
"I believe 5927 came across it during his last run to the Fields to gather Resurrection Dust. He said that you would probably know what to do with it."
"Thank-you, Dee-Dee," Rey said, glancing warily behind herself before she snatched the hilt and stuffed it under her tunic.
Hurrying aboard, she made it to her cabin without encountering any of the Stormtroopers and stuffed the hilt beneath the thin pad that lined her berth. Whatever happened now, whatever dark purpose Kylo Ren had in going to Korriban, she would be prepared.
It was only minutes before the hum of the engines beneath her signaled the ship's imminent departure. Kylo Ren had boarded then, and the closed door of her cabin had at least offered her some scant protection this time. He had not bothered to check that she was aboard. Why would he? He could feel her there and if she tried, she knew that she would feel him too. The heavy thud, thud, thud of his signature. She wondered if it he was telling the truth when he'd said that she would never be able to escape or hide from him. That he would be able to find her no matter where she went.
If that was true, she would now always be a danger to anyone around her. It would effectively sideline her from most all the missions that the Resistance ran, as most of them required stealth. If that was true, she really only had one option—she would have to kill him.
But as she lay on her bunk, and the transporter lurched into lightspeed, she didn't imagine killing him. She remembered his face above her as he gripped her thighs. "Look at me," he whispered. "Look at me, Rey."
She groaned, covering her face. Lying there, huddled into a miserable ball, she eventually fell asleep.
Forward of Rey's cabin, Kylo Ren sat upon a single berth of his own, his mask on the floor beside his feet. Another mask, this one warped from fire, sat upon the table facing him, and though he was focused on it, and his lips moved as though he prayed, in his hands he twisted the thin leather band he had earlier pulled from her hair.
