Omygosh guys thank you for the supportive comments. More invested than episode 9?! Woweee. This fic is nearing it's climax (I know I always say that but I'm feeling it now).
Real talk: As hard as I ship Reylo, the victim's advocate in me is not comfortable with Rey completely forgiving Kylo - he's too abusive. (Don't worry that's not a spoiler). I love a dark fantasy but I can't help feeling how I do :)
ANYWAYS I'm humbled you guys like this dark dark story. I'm always curious to know who likes angst as much as me.
TL;DR
Rey POV.
Part of this chapter is inspired by the pilot doll Rey made on Jakku in TFA.
The caretakers are different this time with Rey. Their annoyance at her presence evaporates.
Albeit the spirited, clumsy women who first came here is gone. Rey is cautious. She spends the last few nights unable to sleep, every new noise setting her on edge. She worries Kylo will manifest with his volatile temper and unpredictable behavior.
Rey peers up into the sky. The First Order flagship is suspended in space somewhere above her. What she would not give for a radio, an old comink - any piece of technology would do. The Lanai are simple creatures - not stupid, but simple - and mechanical parts are hard to come by. They have lived here for hundreds, if not thousands of generations. They have found a way of life that works and there is no reason to complicate it.
Rey watches them perform the laborious task of hauling laundry in wheelbarrows up and down the island hills, hour after hour. Her own clothes grow tight and Rey knows it is not long before she outgrows them completely.
The caretakers are wise, they read her precarious situation easily. One morning an ancient female shows up with a basket of soft fabric, sewing materials, and dyes. A little bit of the weight resting on Rey's shoulders lifts. She almost forgets what real joy feels like.
She runs inside, hoping to repay them with some of the extravagant food from Kylo Ren, but they will not take it. Taking food from a pregnant woman in their culture is a taboo.
They regard her with care and tenderness. Rey appreciates it.
Kylo's counterfeit sympathy is anything but consoling.
She spends as much time outdoors as she can. She needs to assume that Kylo finds a way to observe her from his throne. There is no way he can relinquish control and give her true privacy.
Rey's third day on Ahch-To, the day she sets out to complete her clothes, a heatwave settles over the island. She is caught off guard. Blustery winds, chilly rain, and a general dampness are what she expects - what she experienced the first night with Rose. But this muggy, sweltering heat reminds her of how short her time with Luke Skywalker was. She was not here even for the span of one season.
Luke. His presence here must be felt by Kylo. She wonders if it wounds him.
Rey files the thought away and smoothes out her dress.
Holding up the airy, billowing dress she cocks at eyebrow. It will do. It is not constructed for battle or to show off her shape; it is pure comfort.
And force help her, she has seen the clothes he left for her in the hut.
Quickly checking all directions - including above her - Rey puts on her latest creation. It hits at the knees and fans out around her belly. Satisfied, she decides to take a break from her personal clothing and focus on the baby.
If Kylo tries to discard the clothes she sews, she will throw him into the sea. This time she will not idly stand by while he insults her.
Oh force, what am I going to do.
She ponders this question all day until it feels oppressive.
The other questions that flood her mind are not helpful. She worries for her son, what his life will be if she escapes. No - when she escapes.
Rey frets that he will be targeted. She naturally worries that he will be preyed upon by powerful agents. She can see society ostracizing him for having Kylo Ren as a father.
His peers teasing and bullying him.
What if he is pushed to the dark side? What if she fails to keep her son balanced?
Rey will not ban him from exploring the darkness that resides in all of them; but what is to prevent him from falling from grace the way his father and great-grandfather did?
Please, please let him be more like Han. Like Leia. Like Padme. These extraordinary people race through her mind, but she decides the baby's name cannot be tied to his infamous legacy. She wants him to be free and independent. He deserves to be his own person.
A pang hits Rey deep in her heart. She wishes Leia were here. Without a doubt Leia had these same fears about the boy she named Ben Solo. It is terrifying to admit that in the end, she cannot control who her son turns out to be.
Even if she could, Rey does not want to conceal her son's paternity from him. Not anymore. Lies and deception open doors to toxic people and paths. A shiver travels down her spine, even in the scorching heat, at the thought that she almost killed Kylo. That she would need to explain to her son that she murdered his father. What would that do to him?
Force...Rey shakes her head. Unless it is in self defense, she promises to her child not to kill Kylo. The violent cycle in the Solo and Skywalker family has to end with her. It has to end with her son. Her son might be born into a broken family, but she cannot harbor hate or revenge. She cannot pass that onto him. It is a challenge.
If not death, then what cage is formidable enough to hold Kylo Ren?
If she had known during those lonely years on Jakku that she would catch the Supreme Leader's eye - would she still have left with Finn?
"Ouch," Rey accidentally pricks the tip of her finger with a needle. She sucks on it, stopping the blood. These fears barrel down on her faster than she can control. She drops the project in her lap, sighing. Rey absently rests a hand on her round midsection.
"I'm so sorry for all this, baby. Your father...I think he loves you, in his own way. But he's sick…very sick, in his mind. The dark side twists people until they are unrecognizable."
Deep breath. Rey exhales. She tries to relax.
Nothing is going to be solved by wallowing in self pity.
Set on finishing her projects, Rey threads another needle when tension creeps up her neck. A smooth, velvet voice startles her from behind.
"That is what you plan on telling our son? That I am mentally unfit? Shameful, Rey."
Kylo stands directly behind her.
Rey does not react.
She watches as his boots leave imprints in the dirt as he steps around to look at her.
Rey brandishes the needle like a weapon. Pathetic, but it is all she has. Her lightsaber is in the hut. Idiot, she chastises herself. She thought she would not be out long.
Heat crawls across her cheeks.
"I...yes. That is what I will tell him. You are ill, Kylo."
Kylo stares down at her, his posture authoritative.
"And I do love him. The baby." The words come out tight, controlled.
"Sure."
Like he knows what love is.
Rey cups her hand to shade her eyes, looking up at him. His stormy gaze collides with hers.
"You're sewing again," he observes.
Rey prepares for him to swoop in and discard her hard work. Frantically she gathers her materials.
"I am. I need something to do. And I won't have you toss them away. I have every right to make clothing for the baby," she snaps defensively.
"And dolls."
"What?" Rey squints.
"Those," Kylo nods, "You're not only making clothes. You're making dolls. Is that... FN 2187?" He sounds incredulous as he sits down to examine the toys.
Rey has been making soft dolls for herself since she was ten years old. She uses the scraps along with various materials to create dolls in the likeness of the people she misses most. She made Finn first: using plants and berries from the island to dye his clothing, finesse the defining details. The jacket he adopts from Poe. She creates these heroes for her son.
An adult woman sewing dolls while talking to herself: Rey knows how it makes her look.
She braces for Kylo's cruel, demoralizing comments.
He handles a second creation with a dawning realization.
"Is this my fath..Han Solo?" He sounds horrified.
"The baby's grandfather? Yes," Rey says as he turns it over.
Kylo drops the doll like a poisonous snake. He looks haunted.
"Well," Rey finishes shoving everything into two sacks, "I'm waiting," she stands and slings them over her shoulders.
"Waiting for what? You shouldn't carry those bags while pregnant."
"I'm fine. I'm waiting for your commentary about the dolls. My clothing. My rags. I know you disapprove."
His jaw sets.
"Why don't you wear the clothes I brought? You look overheated, Rey," he follows her back to the hut. The sun has moved from its high position in the sky and sits low, hovering above the calm sea.
Rey notices the door to the hut is ajar. Another example of how he disregards her privacy.
"Have you already been inside?" She crosses the threshold and rests her bags on a stone bench.
"Yes," Kylo answers, "I brought you more food. More honey."
"I don't need any more food. It's only been a few days, Kylo. I could use technical items to make the time go by faster. I like to tinker."
Rey does not like the way he closes the door, the way his critical eyes meet hers. Rey is all too aware that the glistening water covering her skin is sweat, that she empties her canteen of water in a few gulps.
"Nice try, Rey. I know you are a talented mechanic. You won't be getting your hands on any machinery or computers. I'm not stupid."
Kylo does not look happy with her appearance.
"You are overheated. Put this on," Kylo produces a floor-length white dress from a bag. It is sheer and low cut with delicate shoulder straps. It is obvious to Rey that this is not something to be worn in public - this is an intimate item of clothing.
Rey is anxious about saying no. She is anxious he will try to handle her again - will grab at her and force it on her himself.
Rey hates the appeasing words that come out of her mouth.
"Fine. But you don't get to watch me dress. You don't get to see me in it," she snatches it from his hand. She feels ridiculous holding a garment that probably costs more than three months rations on Jakku.
"I am not leaving until you put it on. I won't have you sick from the heat."
There is a note of distrust in Kylo's voice. He faces the door and folds his arms, "You have your privacy. Get dressed. Now."
The way he commands her. Rey aggressively strips out of her homemade dress, hot with frustration. She has no underwear on, no bands to cover her chest. For a minute she searches for them until...
"Hurry up, Rey. Before I turn around," Kylo's statement is pompous and uttered with such seriousness that Rey fumes.
"Don't rush me. You try moving quickly while…" she does not want to bring up her body or her belly to him.
He gets the gist of her scolding.
"Sorry."
Kylo turns just as she slips the last strap over her shoulder. She feels exposed, practically naked standing in front of him. The fabric is so thin she may as well be naked.
"I said you don't get to see me in this. You can go now," She waves her arms, exasperated.
Her words have no effect on him. Kylo stares, slowly drinking her in. His eyes lock onto her as if in a trance.
"My god, Rey," Kylo's voice is strangled. He continues staring in awe, in bewilderment. His mouth drops, hanging open as he searches for more words.
"You are such a beauty, Rey. If you could see yourself the way I see you. You're flawless...you always have been."
Rey crosses her arms around her chest, acutely aware of the way her nipples harden against the lace of the gown.
Kylo kicks off his boots, his cloak falls to the ground. He takes a step forward, hand outstretched. "Rey...can I have you? I'll go slow. I'll be gentle. Please...let me have you."
With him it always comes down to this. Every interaction ends in his lust, his need to consume and bury himself inside her.
Rey nervously licks her lips. She bunches the bottom of the dress, pulling it up, trying to block the most vulnerable part of herself from his view.
Her dignity will not allow her to say yes. She needs to out maneuver Kylo, but she cannot bring herself to use sex as a diversion - as a tool, a power play. Maybe if she thought of herself as a sexual being she could do it. But she is someone who once flustered at seeing him shirtless.
Maybe if sex wasn't just an act to her, if it didn't mean so much, she could go through with it.
"No. No, Kylo. You can't have me. I've taken a vow of celibacy."
"Why?" With one hand Kylo lifts his shirt over his head. His muscular strength shows in the breadth of his chest as he moves.
"Celibacy? That's Jedi nonsense. What are you afraid of?" He stands in front of her now.
Rey breaks into a fresh sweat. He peels his gloves off one finger at a time.
His casual, languid approach frightens her more than his violent outbursts. He is fully cognizant of the choices he makes, of the things he says.
Kylo's hands settle on either side of her waist, near her belly. His thumbs gently stroke her.
"I want to be inside you, Rey. You have to admit it feels right when we are together. What better place than here?" His lips are close to hers, she can feel his warm breath.
Rey wishes she knew what it felt like to have a man respect her. She wishes she knew what it felt like to have a lover honor and cherish her. The thought lodges in her throat.
"Come on now, don't be like this," Kylo whispers, voice husky against her neck.
What is she afraid of? All Rey can think of is their last encounter. The way he blackmailed her into his bed, her shame afterwards.
"You're upset," Kylo dips his head down, trying to make eye contact with her, "You're trembling, Rey."
Is she?
Rey is trying to be indifferent, trying to be strong. It doesn't do to let someone with an ego like his know how much power he has.
It's not working. He won't back down.
She might shake apart and shatter into a million pieces from trembling. Dimly in the very back of her mind Rey is aware of the tears running down her cheeks. She wants to wipe them away but she can't manage it just now.
Her chest jumps as she tries to get some air - even a little breath would be an accomplishment.
Fear, sharper than any blade, stabs at her heart.
Kylo's smoldering features turn somber.
"I'm pushing too hard, aren't I? You're afraid to let me touch you."
"Yes," Rey whispers.
Kylo's arms drop to his side but his proximity does not change. Desperation clouds around him.
"Everything that is wrong between us...can it ever be mended, Rey?"
"No."
No hesitation, no second thought. She shuts him down.
"I see. You meant it, when you said I destroyed your love for me."
His eyes are deep and dark, pools of spinning thoughts and silent apologies.
"I did."
Rey watches her confirmation damage something inside him. She wonders how someone so cruel, so barbaric, has anything left inside to break.
Her lightsaber rests on the table to her left. Rey draws her body upright, ready to lunge for it. Kylo does not accept rejection. She expects to pay dearly for the raw hurt on his face. Moisture pools in his eyes.
"I regret that," a lone tear traces down his cheek.
"You regret what?"
She needs to hear him say it.
"That I've hurt you. Deeply. That there is no way I can earn your heart back."
Rey will not let him back in. Not after the trauma he has caused her - that he continues to cause.
Not now that she has a baby to protect.
"You could still commit a selfless act - for once in your life, Kylo. If you love me as much as you claim to. You could let us go. You're no good for me or the baby. You only hurt us," she speaks earnestly, eyes wide.
A debate seems to dance in his eyes; his internal dialogue constantly at war. Kylo's hands open and close, rhythmically clenching as if there could be some violent solution to his pain.
Light is entombed somewhere in him. Rey knows this. There always will be. But she is finished trying to coax it out, trying to change him into the man she wants him to be.
His transformation needs to come from within.
"Let you go? But what would I do without you?" Tears choke his voice, "I can't let you go. I'm sorry. I can't. I will not entertain abandoning you or my son."
Kylo reaches into his pocket. Rey panics, worried at what possible weapon he will wield.
She bolts for her lightsaber.
Kylo easily bars her with his arm and catches her by the waist. He seizes her wrist and holds it still as his free hand slips a heavy gold ring onto her finger. It pinches into her skin and Rey winces. Kylo's tone is vehement as he twists it on.
"You won't be leaving - you are not going anywhere. You will be my wife Rey. You are the mother of my child and the woman I love. There will be a wedding and it will be broadcast for the entire galaxy to witness. Do you understand?"
She stares in horror at the jewelry adorning her hand.
"The pain from the ring won't last long. It is embedded into your skin. Don't get any ideas about removing it - only a doctor can do that."
"It's a tracking device," Rey says.
"Yes. I learned my lesson last time with the necklace."
Bile rises in Rey's throat despite the injection he forced on her.
"Let go of me," she hisses.
"This is not how I wanted to propose, but your lack of faith leaves me no choice. I will prove to you that I can be a good husband. A good father."
Kylo's hold on her wrist is about to leave a bruise. He releases her and presses a faint kiss on the tender area.
"Tomorrow you will return with me to the flagship. For a short time. I want you fitted for a wedding gown. I want you to visit the medic. You're overdue for a prenatal assessment and I will accompany you."
Rey stands frozen in place. All his begging for forgiveness and the entire time he hides a ring with a tracking device.
She is right not to trust him.
Kylo brushes a stray hair from her face before crossing the room. He stands in the doorframe, turning slightly to face her. The tears in his eyes are gone. His gaze is narrowed, rigid, cold.
"There are a few things I wish I approached differently. I wish I married you before getting you pregnant. I am going to set things right. You'll get the wedding you deserve. And Rey?" He adds softly, "You would be wise not to refuse me on our wedding night. It will be my right to have you. I want you to submit willingly."
The door closes with a click.
Iron-clad determination hardens in Rey. Her hands ball into small fists. She takes the first thing she looks at - the jar of honey - and smashes it against the door.
Rey rips off the gown and tosses it into the fire pit. She lights a match and watches it burn.
Wearing her homemade dress, she crosses her legs and concentrates. She wills the force to strengthen and flow through her once more.
Kylo Ren is delusional if he thinks he can make her his wife.