'You go straight to the dark,' her lord murmured in appreciation. 'Kneel, my beloved apprentice.'

She obeyed the command without question, dropping into position on the cold stone and, wheezing, he raised himself from his seat and hobbled carefully down from the dais to where she knelt. She breathed quietly, ready for whatever command he should give next, her eyes lowered in respect. There was a weight on the top of her head, a cold sensation and a crown of icy metal settled on her brow. Her lightsaber switched off.

'Rise, apprentice.' He flicked a finger at her, indicating the caverns past which she'd already trod. 'Go. Locate more appropriate apparel and then we will discuss the remainder of your training.'

The Knights of Ren swept into a phalanx behind her as she strode back across the chamber, at home here as she had never been elsewhere. The crown on her head was of the dark side, a Sith artefact in the same way as the saber she carried but it felt natural, normal, although the skin where it was connecting with her skull tingled in an unpleasant manner, and she was beginning to get a headache. She was drawn to a small chamber on one side of the bridge and upon entering it, found it had been prepared as a bedroom, a grand divan strewn with black silk sheets in one corner, a heavy carved wardrobe in another. This place had been waiting for her all her life, as had the outfit hanging on the door, the cloth of the dress sheer, and much finer than any she had worn before, the black cloak diaphanous in the dim light. The Knights took up positions on the far side of the threshold and she was about to lock herself in to change when the sight of one of them stopped her.

There was something about the smallest warrior that niggled at the back of her mind. Rey felt a strange antagonism for her loyal servant which seemed at odds with her new role and she crooked a finger at the other woman, gesturing her into the chamber.

'What is your name?' she asked, sitting on the bed and raising her feet so that the Knight could remove her boots.

'Ushar, mistress.' The Knight bowed her helmeted head, and it must have been a struggle to see through that visor, but although Rey noted the woman's clumsiness, she did not care, holding out her arms for her sleeves to be removed next.

'I know you, I think. We have spoken before.' There was a glimmer of something that didn't belong as she said the words, something soft and uncomfortable, at odds with the hardness of her heart.

The woman unwound the cloth, performing the personal tasks without complaint, but Rey could feel the disdain pouring off her. 'No, mistress. We fought once. The day that Kylo Ren introduced you as his whore. The beginning of his downfall.'

The name sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't put a face to it, and it made her feel uneasy. 'I am no one's whore. Watch your mouth,' Rey snapped, her fingers inching towards her lightsaber.

'I would know you anywhere. Years he had been without a woman and then you turn up, flaunting yourself in front of him, calling him master and fluttering your eyelashes.' There was a bite in the other woman's words, and she flung the discarded clothing onto the floor with disgust. 'You made him weak. It is because of you that he is no longer our leader.'

Rey rose to her feet slowly, feeling the need to exert her authority. 'Careful, Ushar, or I may begin to think that it is you who is the whore. You seem too fond of your previous master – perhaps he was more to you than that?'

The other woman snorted, a clear suggestion that this conversation was beneath her. 'The Knights of Ren are a family. I could no more sleep with him than I could fuck my brother. You do not understand us. You are not fit to lead.'

A strange relief flared within Rey for a split second and then the dark side closed over her again like a wave and the emotion drowned within it. 'Leave,' Rey commanded, deciding suddenly that she was capable of dressing herself.

Appropriately garbed for her new post she swept back into the hall, flanked by her Knights, having to detour around the man holding the blue lightsaber in order to reach her place on the throne. She settled her skirts, resting her saberstaff on her knees, and her master nodded at her approvingly.

'As you see, she stays of her own volition.'

'You should have told me you wanted a throne, Rey,' the interloper on the floor below chipped in. 'I would have taken yours out of storage.'

The jovial tone earned him a glare. She didn't know his name but he looked vaguely familiar, as if she'd walked past him somewhere once and shared a glance. He had a distinctive face, which might be what had jogged her memory, and he was looking at her with a concentration that belied the lightness of his words. The fact that he had brought a lightsaber into the presence chamber made him a threat though, and she looked over at her master with a question.

The old man nodded and she crooked a finger at her bodyguard. 'Kill him.'

The man's reaction to this order was not what she'd expected. Instead of demonstrating fear at the approach of the armoured Knights he waited until they had surrounded him and then swept into a formal bow. Each of the Knights acknowledged the action, either through a nod of the head, or the clang of a weapon hitting a breastplate and then they fell easily into a circling pattern, each of them taking up their place within the dance as if they knew the moves and had walked these steps before. She put her chin on her hand and watched, fascinated.

'You'll forgive me if I ask the Empress some questions before I die,' the man announced suddenly, stepping out of the way of the first strike.

The second came at him from behind but he was ready, bending forward swiftly so that the heavy axe cut empty air above his back.

'She has accepted her nature,' the old man responded. 'Nothing you say will make a difference to who she is.'

'I'm well aware of that.' The man pushed into a darting attack which would have connected with the shoulder of the largest Knight, had he not anticipated the move and blocked the lightsaber with his sword.

Sitting on the throne, Rey could have believed she was watching a choreographed routine, had the stakes not been so high. The Knights of Ren were loyal to her, and not the person they were fighting but the seven of them worked so well together it was hard to credit they had only just met. A third Knight rushed in from the side and when the man jumped to avoid the whirling mace he smiled as he landed, his hand throwing his attacker back with a push from the Force. Rather than being launched across the throne room, which was what Rey would have done to her adversary in that moment, the Knight simply sprawled on the floor, and took her time getting back up.

'I believe you are from Jakku, Rey. What is it like?' the man asked.

She glanced at her master for permission before she replied. 'Sandy.'

'Do you miss it?' He span on his heel, caught a poorly executed chop on his lightsaber as it guarded his back and when he turned around he flicked an exaggerated grimace at the Knight who had delivered it.

'No.'

'Why not?'

The fight cycled into a new phase with half the Knights moving into a co-ordinated assault that the man had to exert himself to deflect but Rey noted that the other three Knights did nothing but watch, rather than rushing in themselves. She considered his question while she studied the melee.

Jakku seemed a long way away, the memory of heat and light, the scale of the horizon far from the dim throne room with its flashing lightning and claustrophobic, whispering walls. She had been a different person back then, she hadn't known who she was. The recollection was like an itch at the back of her mind, it made her uncomfortable. She remembered the days spent grubbing through junk in the blistering heat of the desert, and the nights alone in the cold, scratching on the walls of her meagre shelter.

'It was hot. I was hungry,' she answered eventually.

'But you had family there, didn't you?' he asked, out of breath and ducking under a flying fist, only to direct his own into the face of his attacker, who promptly collapsed onto the floor, unmoving. 'Sorry,' he said to the prone figure.

'I was alone.' That was her strongest impression of Jakku, the time spent alone, and even now, resting on her throne at the beginning of her new reign she could feel the sadness of the girl she had been pressing at the back of her mind.

'You dreamed of an island. Who did you meet when you went there?'

Another of the Knights was disarmed and this time the Force push used to propel him close to the pit was strong enough that when he fell, he didn't rise again. The man tackled the final of his three opponents in a blur of heavy blows, attack and defence evenly matched.

'A Jedi.' She remembered the hope with which she had gone to the island, the disappointment she'd found there. The memory came in feelings rather than words, rain on her face, wind in her hair, the emptiness in her heart as she was refused, time and time again.

'Did he train you as a Jedi too?' There was a tussle going on on the floor of the audience chamber, the back and forth trading of blows between the man and the armoured woman so compelling that the three remaining Knights had gathered around, seemingly forgetting that they were supposed to be killing the interloper, rather than applauding him or his opponent.

'Yes,' Rey answered, and then thought about that a little more. She didn't remember being trained, that had come later she sensed, and the feelings that accompanied it were those of sadness and resignation. 'No,' she corrected herself eventually. 'He didn't.'

On the island she remembered nothing but frustration with the man she had gone to meet, and hope from someone she hadn't expected. That was where he was from, she realised. The man fighting for his life had been on the island in the ocean, amidst the rain and the wind.

'How did that make you feel?'

'Alone. I had never felt so alone.'

'So you said.'

She bent forward, scrutinising him. Who was this person who she knew but had forgotten? What was he to her? She clipped the saberstaff back on her belt, rested her elbows on her knees. This was important. Something deep down told her that listening to him was important and she didn't want to miss a word.

He flung Rey a glance and what he saw made him falter, his weapon dropping, and his opponent took that moment to open up a long gash on his arm with her blade. He scowled, whipping around in a long, low spin that ended with the lightsaber connecting with her leg and Ushar fell to the ground, cursing, crawling out of the way as the remaining three Knights took up the attack.

'But you weren't alone,' he continued between blows. 'You went back to the Resistance. To your friends - General Dameron and the stormtrooper and the woman whose sister died. You weren't alone with them, were you?'

Their faces flashed across her mind as his words conjured them from the depths of her memory. Her friends, her comrades, people she liked. But the feelings that came with these images were also not overwhelmingly positive. She felt their mistrust, the unease with which they regarded her and she knew that her place amongst them was tenuous at best. She didn't feel happy when she brought the Resistance to mind, her emotions were the same as they had been all her life – everywhere she went, the same feeling followed.

'I'm always alone,' she acknowledged, the truth of it settling in her heart.

He was fighting harder now, but the minute she spoke his three remaining opponents were dispatched in quick succession, almost as if he had been delaying victory until her ruminations had come to an end. The first Knight flew so far over the pit that he was lost in the darkness, the second went down with a deep wound to his left arm and staggered off in search of medical treatment and the third simply buckled under a light tap to the head and collapsed to the floor.

The man with the lightsaber turned to face the throne, his face shiny with sweat, his eyes glowing with triumph. 'You're not alone. Do you know where you belong?' he asked.

Rey came off the throne without checking with her master. She was more absorbed in the conversation she was having with this half stranger than with any command the dark side might want to give her.

'She belongs with me,' the old man answered, although the question was not directed at him.

Rey ignored him, igniting her saberstaff and beginning to circle the man who was probably her adversary. She was no longer as single minded as she had been. The saber crooned its familiar song of obedience, serenading her into the darkness but it no longer had complete control. Deep within her, out of reach of the thoughts which were supposed to be in charge, emotions stirred. Her stomach had always reacted more accurately than her head and right now it was filling with a strange kind of excitement.

'I'm going to fight you now,' the man said. This seemed like an unnecessary warning, given that he'd dropped into an opening stance that looked suspiciously like Ataru and had abandoned the casual lightsaber technique he'd deployed with the Knights. 'We're going to fight, and you're going to lose.'

She raised her eyebrows at that, swishing the saberstaff threateningly but with a building exhilaration that she didn't even try to contain. The minute he came at her all that was forgotten in the desperate need to defend herself. He was better at combat than she was, far better, displaying a level of skill and aggression she hadn't glimpsed in his warm up battle with the Knights – that had clearly been a training sequence compared to this. He read her moves easily, anticipated her strikes and within a couple of exchanges she was on the back foot, being forced towards her throne with her saber locked in a defensive position while he rained one handed blows at her head. She slipped, went down and he was on her in an instant, her weapon cleaved in half with a swinging lunge, both blades extinguishing immediately as the pieces scattered across the floor. She raised her hand to defend herself, preparing for a massive counterblow with the Force but he threw his own weapon to the ground, his hand streaking out to pluck the crown from her head and throw it far across the hall. He grappled for her elbows, yanked her roughly to her feet and put his arms around her, pulling her in.

'This is where you belong,' he said.

The connection between them enveloped her as securely as his arms, bringing with it the forgotten comfort of companionship, unity, an understanding that did not exist with anyone else. It reminded her of the power that lived in the joining of their hands, of the joy that existed in the joining of bodies, the security that existed in the joining of minds.

'Ben,' she said, and she smiled at him, although the smile couldn't convey the happiness spreading through her at his touch.

He tried to smile, she saw him make the effort but it died on his lips and his brow creased. 'I'm sorry I lied to you,' he said carefully, as if he had been rehearsing. 'I don't want you to forgive me, I just want you to know that I'm sorry.'

She attempted to brush it off, although the expression on his face told her that this was a subject that would need more than a smile to resolve. 'I'm sorry I tried to kill you.'

The corner of his mouth twisted. 'More than tried.'

She ran her fingers down his chest, over the dark fabric covering his stomach, searching for damage. 'How are you here anyway?'

'I healed myself.' There was a slight tinge of disbelief in his tone.

'How? That's a lightside power.'

A faint colour highlighted his cheekbones. 'I had help. I was dying, I think my heart stopped, but then my grandfather came to me and said that it wasn't too late. Turns out who I want to be is a personal choice after all.'

Her questing fingers came back sticky with a smear of fresh blood. 'It looks like you need a bit more practice.'

He rolled a shoulder. 'It also turns out that not everyone is one thing or the other. You said I use the dark, but I hear the light and I can combine the two to find my own strength. Maybe you were right.'

She let herself fall into the healing trance she'd used many times before, let the Force flow through her, but when she opened her eyes, she found her fingertips were still covered in blood and the wound under his top had not completely healed. Frowning, she was going to try again but he shook his head.

'Worry about it later.' His head raised and his attention shifted away from her.

For the first time she was conscious of something that wasn't related to the gloriously wide expanse of his chest or the wonder of having him close. Her vision was scarred with a bright blue glow, inconsistent but powerful, which appeared to be emanating from a light source behind her back and her ears filled with the frustrated crackling of pent up energy. She turned carefully, putting her chest to his back without losing the contact and her perception of the tender moment they were sharing changed. She was standing in a bubble, a translucent shield of power which protected her from the lightning which would otherwise have ripped her apart. Her master stood on the dais, risen from his throne as if he had never been fragile, and the only thing stopping the death arcing out of his hands was the cocoon that Ben had spun from the bond between them.

She glanced up and over her shoulder, catching the determination in his face, the steel in his eyes.

'Now I have to finish what my grandfather started.'