12/18/1
"So, you have droids that actually make most of the clothing?" Rey says as Jon's basting together the pieces of her dress, making sure he's got the drape right.
"Once I've got the full pattern made, yeah. Why?"
"So, his Padme clothing—" Rey can see Jon's utterly clueless about the Padme thing. "Uh… Kylo Ren's not always the most popular man in the galaxy, and he's got a few other names he goes by. Padme is one of them."
Jon thinks that's a reasonable precaution. "Why Padme?"
"That was the only family name he knew that everyone else wouldn't hear and immediately know exactly who he is."
That also makes sense to Jon. "And you call his trader outfit 'Padme clothing?' That's the name he uses with that outfit?"
"Sometimes." Though with the Maji knowing who Padme is… That name's likely retired now.
Jon seems to think about that for a moment as he pins another section of the dress. "Okay. Uh… I guess that makes sense. I know he's gone on a few trips, so… Yeah. Probably can't take a decent vacation if everyone expects the Master."
Or they could use it on vacation to go along with Amidala. "It helps to not go by that name. Anyway…"
"Anyway…" He's looking up at her.
"You were talking about this being a collection of people. And about getting out and getting to know them, and…" She rubs her lips together and stops as soon as she realizes that's a Kylo gesture. "And he talks about getting to meet or know more of them, too… So, as a favor, for me, could you make one of the droids make him some Padme clothing in black?"
Jon grins. "I can do that. I can have them done by the day after tomorrow."
Rey smiles back at him. "Excellent."
A few quiet moments go by while Jon nudges and pins, checking the drape, adjusting and readjusting, and Rey stands there feeling like this is something of a waste of time, but… Well, she's got him here…
"I know he talks to you about politics and how to do this stuff."
Jon nods, pins in his mouth, attaching one of the long flows of fabric to the waistline.
She sighs. "And I know he's aware of the idea that it might be a good plan to see his people, and maybe interact with them some, but… He's nervous about it and not sure if it's a good plan and… Does an Emperor or… Empress… do better by being familiar or aloof?"
Jon smiles at that. Then he puts the pins down. "Can't really talk with them in my mouth."
Rey nods at that. "I'd guess not."
Jon takes a moment and thinks about it more. "I'm not sure. He's told you about palaces and castles, right?"
She nods. "Yeah. Building palaces. We're building palaces."
"Good. So… And this is just me thinking, I don't actually know, but I'd think that if you're warm, and personable, and you make people feel like you can and will solve their problems, or you'll help them solve their own problems, that you'll have an easier time fitting into the palace mode. It's all about making sure people understand that you're so valuable to the scheme of things that you have to be where you are. Anything else would just be foolish."
"I can probably be warm and personable."
Jon can easily see that. "The kids at your school, do they find you easy to talk to?"
"Yes. But they're easy, too," Rey says.
"What makes them easy?"
Rey's never thought about that. "I don't know. They just are."
"Maybe because you know it's going to be okay with them. There's nothing really at stake, and even if you mess it up, it's not that big of a disaster?"
"That probably has a lot to do with it. I mean…" She knows how much can be at stake with any given kid one on one, but she also knows that the truly massive screw ups she's run into were intentional. Maybe not intentionally designed to hurt the kid, but certainly undertaken without taking the kid into account. Like trying to turn someone utterly unsuited for it into a Jedi. "You… I… could really screw one of the kids up, and… That can reach a lot further than most people would expect."
Jon catches that line and has a feeling there's a lot about Kylo and his family that he doesn't know.
"But… I'm not scared of screwing them up. I kind of feel like I know what I'm doing, or… we all don't know what we're doing, together. But, I'm…" She looks up and bites her lip. "It's, I guess, okay if I fail this for me. It's not okay if I fail it for him."
Jon smiles a little at that. "I think you'd have to actively work at it to fail this. Don't make any deals. Don't spread any gossip. And don't let the rumors get you down. Stay in those lines, and you've more or less guaranteed you can't fail him."
"I can do that."
"Good. And maybe just go get some popcorn and be nice about it. Just, let them see you're a person."
"I can do that, too."
Jon goes back to pinning for a moment, and then says, "You can do that; can he? I've seen him work a room, and… after an hour or so it's pretty clear he's not having a good time. It probably won't work all that well if it's clear he loathes it."
"I can work on that. You get the black outfit, and… Maybe we'll get some popcorn."
12/22/1
Food eaten, dishes washed, this is normally the part of the day where they move onto more work. An hour or so of… something.
Kylo rolls his eyes with a tepidly sarcastic mental, yay! He's still got his first year speech, which is going exactly nowhere, or he's got… He doesn't know, the stack of datapads on his desk is taller than his forearm is long. All sorts of bits and pieces in there.
Rey shakes her head at him. "Nope. Not today." Then she heads into their bedroom, and comes out a moment later with black stuff between her hands. Black fabric. No, one of the pieces is fabric, the other is leather.
He raises an eyebrow at her while she hands it over. "We playing a game tonight?"
Two nights ago, they were looking at sexy pictures together and both of them liked the costumes in the pictures. He'd put that down on his list of things to delve deeper into the next time they're off being the Amidalas, because the little sexy leather number the girl was wearing certainly worked a treat for him, but he can't imagine Kylo Ren expressing an interest in something like that, let alone attempting to find where to buy one, or… well, buying one. Ben Amidala, on the other hand, can have as many interests as he likes, and he can pursue them as he likes, too.
And the second he puts his Ben Amidala costume back on, pursuing those interests is the absolute top of the list of things he intends to do.
That said, the guy in the pictures was also wearing… something. He wasn't really paying attention, or looking at the guy, beyond being aware that he was in the pictures and Rey seemed to enjoy him.
So… Fabric, of a clothing-like nature… Rey looking up at him expectantly, though he's not exactly getting a sense of sexual excitement from her, but he's got no clue what else this might be, unless he wants to dig deeper into her head… So… This could be a good night.
"I suppose you could call it that."
He's looking more carefully at what he's holding. A black shirt and jacket. If this is a game, he's out of his depths as to what they're playing. He looks at it more carefully. "Is this my Padme clothing in black?"
"Yes."
He rubs his lips together. If this is a game… "Okay… Uh… Yeah, I'll ask. Why?"
She steps up close to him, her hands on his. "Because if I'm going to be queen of this… thing, then I want to see the thing, and the people in the thing, and if I'm doing that, you're going with me."
A smile spreads slowly across his face. He licks his lips, looking amused, and glances down at the clothing between their hands. "When he first measured me for this, he asked if I was ever going to be off-duty, and I said was entertaining the notion that at some point I would be."
She nods, and gives his hands a gentle squeeze. "So, let's go be off-duty where your people can see us. For a little while, at least."
"And if we get swarmed?"
"Last I checked, we could both teleport."
"Okay." He's about to pull off his shirt. He's been in his trousers and his usual under tunic shirt since he got home, and then he stops. "I can probably go out in just this." He puts the jacket on over it. "Casual, right?"
She shrugs. "I don't see why not. But… I wouldn't."
"Nope." He takes her hand in his. For a second, he thinks of adding his saber to the outfit, but his belt is on the hook with his tunic, and his saber is actually back in his desk because he didn't think to hook it back into his belt before he came home. So… "Okay. Uh… Remember what I said about failing with me?"
"I do."
"Well, let's give it a shot."
Kylo's a little embarrassed to admit that he's got more than 18,000 cubic kilometers of ship, and he's seen, maybe, five of them. Twenty-five if he counts the ones he's walked through to get to the ones he's been in.
And one of them, Snoke's throne room and chambers, he's destroyed. (Okay, actually he had the damn thing stripped bare and turned into storage space. He did that after it was gently, patronizingly, as if he were an especially dull and dangerous toddler in bad need of a nap, in front of several other people, explained to him, by Hux, that the Supremacy was holding together by steeltape and the grace of the Force and the last thing it needed was another hole in it.)
Part of it is, as the Supreme Leader and then Master, people come to him. If he wants to see you, you go to him. If you want to see him, you make an appointment and wait for him. It does not work the other way around.
Part of it is a lot of the Supremacy is empty. People are coming in for the festivities, but he's still not going to get to a quarter of its capacity. Snoke had moved most of the First Order to Starkiller, which turned out to be a fucking awful tactical decision, or the Force picking which side it wanted to see win. But, either way, it left him with a lot of space and not a lot of stuff in the space.
Part of it is that most of his time with the First Order was spent on the Finalizer and he knows that ship inside and out. But ever since he's been on the Supremacy, he's been busy in a way he wasn't on the Finalizer.
So, to an extent, he's just as much exploring as Rey is.
They walk through his office to the throne room, and she does glance at his throne. He sees her do it and smirks. She is wearing one of the dresses she got shopping with Jon, and the door does lock… He doesn't see C8, and hell, it's a droid, so it's not like he can embarrass it if it were to walk in at the wrong moment… He licks his lips… On his throne, indeed…
She elbows him gently. "After."
He grins. "As you wish, my Lady."
It's a different elevator. And they're different people. And there's no real tension here, not now. A little buzz of nervous excitement, because, well, this is new and different, but it's not both of them standing there, edge of the cliff, getting ready to jump.
She's just as close as she was the first time. Closer. Her hand is in his.
He looks down at her for a moment, and then closes his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close, and kissing her long and deep. Her arms wrap around his waist and shoulder, and she kisses back, melting to him.
He moans, soft, low in the back of his throat, and she pushes up even closer.
He feels the elevator stop, and for a second he's confused because it's not that fast. He's on level AA, thirty-two levels below the F deck. Then he realizes she's stopped the elevator and he grins at her.
Looking for some privacy? he thinks, still kissing her.
Thinking about how much I wanted you to do this the first time we were here.
His hands span her hips, and he rocks against her as his tongue finds hers. He's not hard, yet, but she more than understands the intention of that move. Her turn to groan. When she does, he thinks to her, I was thinking about it. Tracing your lips with my eyes. And he didn't do anything more than that because he could feel Snoke in the back of his head, and he wasn't about to share that with him.
I knew. Her hands thread through his hair.
He pulls back a little, looking at her, tracing her face and lips with his eyes, and then fingers. "Would have done it in the… Where were we?" He's never asked, and she's never said.
"Ahch-To."
He's got no idea what or where that is. "Would have done it there if Luke hadn't blown the hut up." Because he didn't feel Snoke in his head, not there. Just him and her and firelight and reaching out, half-eager, half-afraid.
She traces the tips of her fingers over the tips of his, and then barely brushes his lips with hers. "Like that?"
"Maybe." He smiles a little, then rubs against her a bit more, rocking his rapidly perking up shaft against her belly, and leans in to kiss her soundly, deeply, wet lips, and tongue mimicking the in-out of slow, lazy sex. When he pulls back he says, "Or maybe something like that." His eyes have a mischievous spark.
She gives him a little shove. "You would not."
He shakes his head a bit. "No. Not without an invitation." He steps back, so their bodies aren't touching, though he's holding her hand, and kisses her again. Softly, lightly, just an easy brush of lips on lips, but there's heat in his mind and eyes, burning through his feelings. "Like that."
She returns his kiss, also light and easy, and squeezes her hand in his. "I would have liked that." She looks up at him again, lightly bites her lip, and says, "What would you have done the first time we were in here?"
He looks down, tracing her eyes and lips with his. His tongue darts out over his upper lip, and then he's got her pressed against the door, lifted up, her legs around his hips as he's grinding into her and kissing deep and wet.
He can feel her pleasure at it. Not just in the sense of lips on lips and bodies on bodies feeling good, but in the sense of being pleased with this being the answer.
He pulls back for a moment, saying, "I figured there were better than even odds we'd be dead in less than an hour. If I was going to go for it, I might as well have gone for it."
She's giggling at that, and rubbing against him in a very pleased sort of way, and he's rubbing back, enjoying the feel of her on him, and the just sheer, wrong, naughtiness of doing it in an elevator and, he's leaning in for another kiss…
"This is Maintenance Team A-46. The elevator has been stopped for more than two minutes. Do you require assistance?" It's just a voice in their space, but it has the effect of being thrown into an ice cold lake.
They're both silent and still for a second followed by Kylo saying, "No, we're fine. Everything is fine."
"Good. We're recommencing service."
And they feel the elevator begin to rise again. He puts Rey down, and she says, "Surveillance?"
He nods. "Yeah. Actually… I'm fairly sure there's someone watching everywhere in the damn ship. I know my room, office, and throne room are clean, and so are all the rooms that touch them, but…"
"Ah." She looks around, wondering where the camera is, but she can't get a feel for it. Don't want to give them a show?
He smirks at that. If I knew for a fact the footage would stay on the ship, maybe I wouldn't much care, but…
Don't want to see it broadcast across the galaxy?
Do you? He hits her with the image of them fucking away broadcast on every major news network. He smirks a little. Schiff and Kinear keep trying to make him more "human," and that might go a long way toward that.
She flashes him an eye roll at that thought, and adds, Not really.
At least, not as the way everyone in the galaxy finds out about you?
I could live without that.
He grins at her. Then he lifts her hair out of the way, and kisses her neck. Is it terrible that I kind of like that idea? Everyone knowing you're mine? Seeing it?
Yes. But she smiles as she thinks it. Then she gives him a quick, chaste kiss. How about you just go walk around with me? Maybe hold my hand.
He takes her hand in his. I can do that.
Neither of them thought it would really happen, but both of them knew it could. That heartbeat when the doors to the lift opened and the F deck could see them and… Maybe…
But no. Nothing went silent, no one stopped dead in their tracks, with the exception of the three… Rey doesn't know what they are because she doesn't know how to read Order uniforms, who don't really look at them, beyond a quick glance and a sense of annoyance that she and Kylo aren't moving out of the elevator quickly enough, no one even notices them.
They do step out, and one of the… Squad Leaders, Kylo thinks to her, bumps her shoulder with her own as she moves into the lift, and Kylo, almost tears her a new one for it, but Rey just holds his hand a little tighter.
Trying to get to work on time. Let her be.
She feels his mental glare.
Come on. Popcorn.
What's popcorn?
Did I not tell you about that? She can't believe that slipped her mind. She pats her dress pockets and finds what she's looking for, her credit stick. Come on. She takes his hand and they begin to weave their way through the crowd. When she and Jon were here it was well-filled, but right now, at what she considers just past supper time, it's packed. Hordes of people are on the benches, and sitting under the trees, or at the tables. There are lines of people waiting to get into the cafes and restaurants.
You know almost five million people means a hell of a lot more when you're standing in the middle of them. Kylo thinks to her.
They sure do. Is that how many…
If not today, then by the end of the month. Pretty much everyone who could get here for this will be here for this.
He's eyeing the crowd, watching his people mill around, talk, joke, eat, play, read, one's getting a nap under a tree… Just… being people. About half of them are still in their uniforms, and the other half, like him are in their off-duty garb.
He's thinking about that as someone backs into him, jumps back, apologies on his lips, and goes dead silent as he looks up and sees the scar. Kylo quickly casts, murmuring, "Not him."
The man, there's no way to tell his rank, he's in a faded knit jumper and kilt, says "I'm sorry," eyes glazed, and drifts away.
I think that's defeating the purpose, Rey thinks to him with a wry look.
Maybe, but it's better than him wanting to disembowel himself from shame in front of us.
That's a point. She's looking around. The popcorn guy should be around here somewhere, but… If he is, she can't see him. Well… There's a horde of people here, so… she could just… ask for directions. Right?
There's a couple on a bench a few steps away, he's sipping a drink, and she's nibbling on a sandwich, so… Sure. People. People ask other people for directions when they don't know where they're going.
Rey takes a step toward them, and says, "Excuse me, do you know where the popcorn vendor is?"
Both of them look at her, and at each other, and she can feel the man is about to shrug, and then the woman sees, really sees who's standing next to her, and she leaps to attention, dragging the man up with her, his drink spilling as a shocked look spreads over his face, because he can't fathom why she's yanking him up, and then he sees who's standing next to Rey, and every milliliter of color drains out of his face as he scrambles into even straighter posture as both of them stammer in an attempt to find the correct answer.
Rey can hear Kylo laughing in her head, and she can see he's got a very, tiny, smile on his face. Then he says, "It's not a command, just a question. I've never had popcorn before, and she tells me I should try it."
They both stand there, at perfect attention, barely breathing.
Rey adds, "It's okay if you don't know. I've only been down here once, and I'm a little turned around. I think he was around here. With a cart."
The woman swallows, and then says, "He might not be here. The vendors with the carts move around, and they take shifts off."
Rey smiles. "Thanks."
The man's staring up at Kylo. "Should we… find you popcorn, Master?"
Kylo smiles. The mental image of a horde of his men scouring the Supremacy looking for popcorn making him almost laugh. "I'm enjoying the adventure of finding it myself." He gestures to the bench they leapt off of. "Relax, finish your meal."
Both of them sit down slowly, staring at Kylo, as he glances to Rey, and she smiles at them, and they both move on, continuing the search.
Is that failing or succeeding? she thinks to him.
I have no bloody idea.
When they find the popcorn vendor, he grins at Rey. "Hello, Jon's pretty friend, I knew you'd be back when I saw you take the first bite." He's already grabbing a bag of the salty-sweet for her, not really looking at who's with her. "Did you bring me a new friend?"
"Yes. I did. He's got something of a sweet tooth, too."
The vendor smiles at her, hands over the bag, looks up to her companion, about to say something, probably ask about which of his sweet blends he'd like best, but the words dry up in his mouth and he makes a sound like, "Guk."
Kylo tries smiling at the man as he takes the bag of popcorn from Rey.
Rey picks a piece out, one with a good amount of chocolate and burnt sugar on it, and Kylo nibbles it from her fingers.
The Popcorn Vendor does not, in fact, have a stroke, but looks like he's seriously considering it.
Kylo chews for a moment, not sure if it's the best thing he's ever had, maybe if it were dark chocolate instead of this light milk chocolate, maybe a bit saltier, too, but it's certainly pleasant, and he'll happily eat his half of the bag, then he smiles at the vendor and Rey, and says to him. "This is good."
"Mmmrphm…" Comes out of his mouth, but he looks pleased by the compliment.
Rey hands over her credit stick, and that snaps the Vendor into action. "No! Oh, no, my Lady. I couldn't… Not from…"
She holds the stick out and says, "You most certainly will take payment from me."
He nods. "I will take payment from you." And then he pushes her stick into his payment terminal.
A moment later, she and Kylo are walking away, sharing the bag, and he quietly says to her, "Spending some time with Jacen, I see."
She just looks at him, and then steals the piece of popcorn he was about to eat himself. (Both of them hear a somewhat shocked gasp to the back and left, apparently someone else has noticed who's walking through the mall.) "I'll have you know voice control is the first thing I intentionally did with the Force."
He's looking at her, curious, not knowing that.
"How did you think I got out of the interrogation room?"
"The same way I would have, slipped the locks. They're a basic latch design. Move three pieces of metal and out you go."
She blinks. "I… didn't think to even try. A Stormtrooper came in, and I used my voice on him. The first try didn't work, the second one did."
He nods. "Oh." Then takes another bite of popcorn, feeling a table of officers staring at them, eyes wide, silent, now, but the whispers begin as soon as they're behind Kylo's line of sight. He chews, swallows, and then says, "Probably a good thing I didn't know that. When I found you were gone, I… got angry and… Uh… If you ever hear the name Darth Tantrum, I more than earned it."
That gets a raised eyebrow from her. "They have nicknames for you?"
"I don't know about they, but Hux did. He may have never said it out loud, but I caught it in his head every now and again."
"And you just… let him…"
He bites his lip. "I was under strict orders to not kill Hux. He was… useful."
"Oh."
"I'm sure he had the same orders regarding me." He takes another bite of the popcorn. "And Phasma for both of us."
Rey looks around at the mall. More people than she could count in an hour, some of them staring at them, most just milling around doing things. This, here, now, is true.
And this, here, now, was likely true when Snoke was in charge. Maybe not quite so relaxed or comfortable, but this situation didn't appear in the last year. The vendors and mall and people and… life here… isn't a feature of Kylo taking over. It's been here for a while.
It's almost hard to hold it in her mind.
She can still feel the almost liquid grasp of Snoke's dark Force. How just being near him made her want to gasp for breath, drowning in pain and anguish. And she looks around, and sees a collection of officers playing what looks like a friendly game of… something… There's a ball and a court, and they're throwing the ball around, running all over the place, while their friends yell at them.
Somehow, both of these things were true at once.
Kylo can feel what she's thinking, and nods. "Yeah. I feel it, too."
As they move through the shops of the F deck, munching the popcorn, Kylo notices that if you happen to be the tall, somewhat quiet guy, in black, next to the beautiful woman, who is smiling, you don't attract a lot of attention. Yes, if he were in his command blacks, or the mask, they'd all be staring at him and not Rey, but right now he's, unless they look closely, and yes, some of them do, but most of them just register him as the big black thing next to the pretty woman.
And he doesn't mind that at all.
The ones that do look, and see him… Some stare. Most leap to attention, going silent or stammering, waiting to see what he might want or need, an edge of fear leaking through their feelings. The thing he says most often as they're walking is, "At ease."
But, and he approves of this, there's only an edge of fear. There was a time when he could walk through the Finalizer and people would literally turn around and re-route their path to avoid getting in his line of sight, hoping they wouldn't trigger his wrath.
He knows that's not productive. He's seen that with his General Staff. People about to wet themselves from fear of making a bad move do not do a good job of… anything. They're too focused on not getting messily killed for no good reason.
But an edge of fear… That's better, but… Maybe not ideal… Or…
The thing is, he's not entirely sure if getting rid of that edge is a good thing or not. He's not sure if he wants them to be nervous around him. It's not anything he's ever had to think about, so he's got no idea what the right answer is.
He's about to verbalize the question, ask it out loud, see what Rey thinks about it, when he understands how he was going to ask. Should a ruler be feared by his subjects?
It stops him, dead, and she stops, too. (Though she pulls both of them to the side, stopping dead in the middle of the flow of people seems like a bad plan to her. He may be the Master, but most of the people around them aren't recognizing him, and if they stop dead, they'll get trampled in the mass of people moving around them.) She knew what he was getting ready to ask. He's more or less broadcasting his thoughts right now, though she doesn't think he's aware of it, much too interested in the thoughts themselves.
Subjects. He thinks it to himself, feeling a lot of the troubles he's been having with his year-end speech shifting.
Not subjects, Rey thinks back to him, both of them looking at the throng of people around them.
No. Not subjects. His people are here, for the most part, voluntarily. Yes, it's probably physically impossible for a large percentage of his Hux grads to leave because of their conditioning, but if they could change their minds about it, nothing would stop them from leaving. And for everyone else… Get planetside, anywhere, and they can go.
He's not a King, and he's not an Emperor, and… He's not sure what the word would be. Even his mother's beloved senators and presidents claimed the right to rule the unwilling by virtue of having gotten the majority to go along with them. None of them ever cared for the consent of any given individual.
None of the politicians he's met, heard of, or studied ever cared if any given person wanted to be ruled by him. As long as enough of them did, that was fine.
He can feel that burn through him. He's not a politician. He hates politicians and politics, not the least because of his mother was one. Lies and half-truths, all kept and spread to get the largest number of people around you to more or less go along with what you were doing at any given time.
And it's not like there ever really was any grand ideals or noble attachment to a greater good. A Republic voted in a leader his grandfather didn't like, and Senator Organa rose a rebellion against him. His mother joined it, claimed to be all about The Republic, but the Senate was still in session when she joined the Rebellion. Eventually she tore an Empire down. It fell, a New Republic rose, and as soon as it didn't go the way she wanted it to go, she and a group of her Rebels peeled off and went their own way again.
She wanted to be a Queen, or a General, he guesses. But she wanted the veil of… what… consent? Agreeableness? A power greater than her moral compass to fall back upon? Maybe? Obviously, when she thought the majority was going the wrong way, she had no trouble leaving it behind.
For a moment, he wishes he could talk to her about that. And he's fairly sure, eventually, he will. But not right now.
His thoughts are still scattered, whirling around in shards and colors, looking for the thread that'll lead him to an anchor.
Rey's holding his hand, drawing them toward a bench to sit down. The people on it catch sight of them while they're a few steps away and go leaping to attention and more or less sprinting out of the way so the Master and his companion can sit.
Once they're down, she says to him, and she doesn't exactly know why, just that this is the right thing to say at this particular second in time, "Tell me about Lando."
Kylo blinks, feeling a lot of those shards go dropping into place.
"Lando… He's… Yeah…" Lando had a handful of fancy titles, but the only one that really mattered was CEO of Calrissian Corp. "He started out as a smuggler. A good one. He used to say smuggling is half luck and half skill, and then he'd add something about how he was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the galaxy. My dad would say something like, 'But not the most skilled.' And Lando would shoot back, 'It wasn't my ass that needed rescuing from Jabba's Palace. Best pilot in the galaxy, all the skill in the world, and you still had the bad luck to get boarded.' And then Dad would smirk at him. And Mom would say something like, 'You weren't exactly in there all by yourself,' to Lando, and the three of them would laugh about it."
"He didn't stay a smuggler, though?"
"No. He made his money, then bet well, and then bet better, like he said, lucky, and won the lease on a gaseous mining colony. He turned that into Cloud City, and then… He just grew it from there. More mining plants, more real estate, more everything. He was Admiral Calrissian, First Senator from Cloud City, CEO of Calrissian Corp when he died."
That's got Kylo thinking. Lando didn't conquer anything. He never took, not by force or by theft. He'd trade and gamble and sweet talk, but he didn't take. He had military forces, but he only used them defensively. He died with an empire, if that's the word, of more than seventy million people spread out over… Force, something like ninety-three corporations, twenty-five mining outposts, and Cloud City, which by that point was a city in name only because it spread over more than a eighty thousand kilometers. And those were just his on-the-books holdings. Kylo doesn't know, not for a fact, though he's absolutely sure in his guts and feelings, that Lando had an entire shadow empire of off-the-books and illegal holdings that his web of contacts could move with and through.
And all of them, every single person in that huge web, was there by choice. Maybe not good choices. He's sure there were more than a few places where work-for-Lando or be-homeless were the only options available, but he wasn't kidnapping babies and brainwashing them into being loyal soldiers of the Calrissian Corp.
He can see Lando clearly. It's an old image. The man's been dead for almost four years, and the last time Kylo saw him, he was twenty, still Ben Solo, and put in charge of keeping his cousin out of trouble while Lando talked to Luke.
Supposedly, they were just visiting to catch up with old friends and family, but Kylo could feel Lando was sick, and that Luke could help, some. Not enough. Not a cure. But he could slow the cancer down, buy Lando time, and that was enough. But even sick, even as far away from his usual haunts as Luke's school was, Lando was always… fashionable, and personable, warm, charming… People just wanted to be near him. Half the school had a crush on him before he left, and more than a few of the Padawans (Ben included) were seriously considering adding cloaks to their wardrobes.
Rey's stroking his hand, and he's got the sense she's riding along on his memories, feeling him trying to sort this out.
He can feel the image, the one that's been guiding him for more than two years now, Lord and Lady Ren, her on his throne, him a bit behind, and for a second it's achingly, perfectly clear. And then it, too, shatters.
He's not a King, not an Emperor, and has no want or need to be. He doesn't want or need a throne, either. A throne is… a way to make the people around you feel small, powerless in your presence. And he doesn't need it. He's never needed it.
That image was never really the future… There wasn't room in his mind for a real image of the future, no way for him to understand where he needed to go, so the Force gave him that one, as a placeholder, because it was one he could understand. That was one that could keep him moving in the right general direction.
But he's not Snoke. He won't be a conqueror. And he's not his mother. He won't pretend to venerate a political system only to abandon it the second it won't go his way. He's neither an Emperor nor Senator, neither of those paths offer him what he needs.
Choice.
He needs people to join him because they want him and what he can do for him.
He needs volunteers, not subjects.
He's the fucking Master of the Order, and right now, for the first time, he knows exactly what that means.
And for the first time, he can see the future, real, clear, the details crisp, no longer a breath of a messy sketch. The future is a table, long, with many seats, and the people around it are there by their own choice, working together, toward a mutually agreeable goal. Working for and with him, because they want to be part of what he wants to build.
He can see some of the people, clearly. He's there, Rey, Jon, Kinear and Schiff, Poe, too… Many other seats not yet filled, or shadowed with ghosts of people he's sure he's met, but doesn't yet know how to work with.
He has the sense of ghosts behind him, his parents, Luke, Hux, too, though as a warning or guide, he doesn't know.
And on the table, at the center, the symbol Jon made for him. The hexagon with Rey's swirl in the middle. The Order of the Maji.
He feels Rey squeezing his hand, senses her sharply inhaled breath, and knows she's seeing it, too.
They get back to his throne room, though neither of them pay much attention to the walk.
He doesn't spend much time in here, preferring his office or his room. Pretty much the only time he's in here these days is when he's walking through it to go to the training gym or one of the other parts of the Supremacy.
He wasn't really looking at it when they left, either. Mostly focused on her, and a glance at the throne, and then focused on the idea of her on the throne and… Then they were in the elevator.
Rey's really looking around at it now, too. "You know, it's less black then I was expecting."
It is, but that's because Jon's been decorating it within an inch of its life. "That's Jon's doing. Normally it's all black."
Jon's added some… stuff. Drapes, Kylo guesses. Some of them are white with the Order symbol in black on them, some are dark gray with the Order symbol in white. Apparently with black walls, black floors, and a billion kilometers of visible black space beyond the containment field around his throne room, Jon didn't think he needed black drapes, too. He hasn't moved the tables and bar in, yet. There's some sort of dinner the night before the First Year celebration, and there'll be a reception in here before it. So, before they eat, they'll be standing around and mingling in here.
Or… well… His throne. They'll mingle around his throne. It's in the middle of the room. Tall, high, making sure it's clear that he's the reason they're here. Everyone else stands and mingles. He gets to sit, should he chose.
Kylo nods to the "wall" that's all sky. "When I took this spot over, it was one of Snoke's pet general's rooms. This was his private ship hanger." He looks at all the drapes, and the carefully laid dark gray carpet runner, and decides that if he leaves the room, opens the hanger bay, and spaces the throne, resulting in everything else in the room also hurtling into the void of space, that Jon will kill him.
He does walk over to it, resting his hands on the back. Like always, the metal is hard, the edges sharp. He doesn't know where it came from. His vision had a throne in it, so he told them he wanted a throne, and this thing showed up.
A few of his men watched, skittishly, the first time he sat in it. And it was perfectly clear they were all terrified he was going to lash out at them. Fear, a little revulsion, some disgust. A bit of the sense that he wasn't worthy of throne. So, he sat on the damn thing, and it was horribly uncomfortable, and he did the best he could to look like he belonged on it, and when he took out Hux, he took them out, too.
The one thing that never occurred to him was that the men who bought this damn thing for him never intended him to sit on it long, and that it was likely, intentionally, not fit for him.
"I'm not an Emperor or a King." He's still staring at it. "I'm the Master, and my palace has no need for a throne."
Rey takes his hand, approving of this, and then lays her other hand on the throne. "You saying you don't want to play on it?"
He glances away from the throne to her, his mood lightening considerably. "I'm saying after we've done everything we can possibly think to do on it tonight, I'm getting rid of it."
She grins at that. And then kisses him. "So, what do you want to do on it?" She remembers the flood of images he hit her with. "What was your favorite of the bunch?"
He's smiling widely now, and steps around it, to sit on it. He'd lean against the back, but, really, the damn seat is too long. It's too fucking long for him. If his back is against the back, and he sits with his legs straight out, the edge of the seat hits about four centimeters below the fold of his knees. He's got no idea who this was designed for. It's not long enough for Snoke, but if he can't comfortably sit in it, it's too damn long for 99.9% of the human population. Maybe there are non-humans who do thrones…
He pats his lap, and she starts to straddle him, but… "Okay… Uh…" She can get one knee next to his thighs, but there's not quite enough room for both of her legs if she straddles him. She tries resting her knee on the armrest, but it's hard and sharp, and too high for her to snugly rest on his lap.
Rey stands up. "Okay, how about…" She sits across his lap, and that's okay… enough… For a minute. The armrest is now hard and sharp against her back, and the other armrest is digging into her legs, and…
He gets a good grip on her and stands up. "That doesn't work. Maybe…" He sets her on the throne, kneeling, and he's standing in front of her, and this way they're face to face, and he can kiss her without having to bend down, which is pretty nice.
Rey's hands slip under his jacket, curving around his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. As it falls he gives it an extra toss, sending it behind them. Then her hands are wrapping around his waist, and her lips are warm and soft, and, this is working just fine. He can really kiss her throat and shoulders, his lips gliding along the line of her skin until they hit the collar of her dress. It takes him a moment to figure out how to undo it, but once he's got it, it's off of her and dangling off the edge of the throne. Then his lips are against her skin, and she's got her hands pulling up his shirt, and then stroking his back, and inching toward his butt, and it's all good except…
There's this stupid little foot rest right at the front of it. It's too narrow to be a decent step up to the throne, in that it's less than half as long as his feet are, but it's more than wide enough that he's sort of bending at the waist and hips to get right up next to Rey, and for a moment or two, that's fine, but the longer they kiss, the more he's enjoying her lips on his, and her hands in his pants, and his hands on her breasts, the more he wants to move as well as kiss, the more aware he is of the fact that he's sort of hunched over, and the part that most wants to rub up against her isn't in contact with her body.
This time it's Rey who says, "Yeah, not working, okay… Uh… Maybe…" She pushes him back a little, and steps down, so she's kneeling in front of the throne, her knees against the little… "What is this thing?"
"The more I think about it, the more I'm coming up with 'a practical joke' as an answer."
She sniggers at that, and then leans a bit further forward, arms on the seat of the chair, and wiggles her butt a him.
Kylo grins at that, kneeling behind her, very happily rubbing up against her. This is actually working pretty well for him. She's all soft and warm in front of him, and… Force… she's got the best ass in existence and he can see and touch it, rub up against it. He's tugging her leggings down, thinking about how rocking back and forth against that soft plush curve is one of his favorite things ever, and once he gets these things down around her knees, his hands can be roaming around her front, one on her pearl, the other… on her breast, or maybe between her lips, or…
He's got his fingers under the waistband, and the leggings about two centimeters down when Rey says, "Nope." Yes, this is working a treat for him, but the throne is cold, and hard, and the step or practical joke, or whatever the fuck that thing is, is digging into her knees, and… It's really distracting, and not in a good way. He's doing some things she would really like to enjoy, but all she can think about is if she's going to have a purple-black line dug into her knees when they're done, and… "Nope."
Kylo pulls back, pulling her into his lap, her back to his front. They're fully on the floor, near the throne now. He licks his lips, gathers her hair in his fist, and then licks her neck. Rey shivers at it, hot wet growing cold fast in the cool air of the throne room. She turns in his embrace, twisting so she can kiss him. A small smirk crosses her lips, and he kisses it.
"You know why it doesn't work," she says, pulling his shirt off.
He nods. "I do."
For a long moment, he's kissing her. The throne might not be working, but the floor's doing just fine for both of them.
But he also knows that the floor, or the throne, isn't where they need to be. He gets a good grip on her, uses the Force to get him off the floor, and then carries her, like he did in the hotel room on Gidi Prime. Her body flush to his, his arms under her back and legs. He uses the Force to hit the button that opens the door to his office. Sometimes it's really nice not to be completely dependent on your hands for manipulating the world around you.
In there, he's got his desk, where he supposes he 'works,' if reading a million reports and sending out orders about what to do in regards to those reports is 'work,' and the conference table where he and his general staff meet to talk through whatever it is they're doing.
He hooks his foot in one of the legs of the chair closest to him and pulls it aside, clearing a space, and lays Rey on the table.
She grins up at him. "Better." It's still cold and hard, but the edge of the table is rounded, so it's not digging into either of them, and it's just high enough that he can lean his pelvis against hers in a really delicious sort of way.
"Much better." He leans his hands into the table to the sides of her head, and takes a half step back, and from there he can rock against her at a really sweet angle. His hand finds the small of her back, pulling her just a hair higher, getting just enough friction exactly where both of them want it.
A soft moan whispers out of Rey, then her legs wrap around his hips as she arches against him. "Are you ever going to be able to work here again without thinking about this?"
He grins, kissing her lips, and throat, before stepping back, and pulling her up. "It absolutely would not be the first time I've thought about this while working in here."
"So, what's your favorite one for in here?" Rey asks, yanking off her breast band.
He grabs both of her ankles and plants her feet on the edge of the table and then rubs against her one last time before stepping back enough to get her leggings all the way off. For a moment, he stands between her legs, gazing at her delta, then looks higher to her belly and breasts, higher yet, to lips and eyes. "You are so ridiculously gorgeous like this."
She smiles up at him, trailing her toes across his chest and belly, to gently press against where his shaft is trying to get out of his trousers. "Can I see you, too?"
"Oh yeah!" He slowly unbuttons and unzips his trousers, fingers lingering, teasing her with the reveal. He gives himself a bit of a squeeze before pushing his trousers down below his knees.
"Not going to take them off?" Rey asks, leaning up on her elbows.
He's pulling the chair next to him over. "Don't want to fight with my boots."
Once he's got the chair in front of her, he gets comfortably seated, slides his hands under her butt, and pulls her closer, putting one of her feet on the arm of the chair, the other thigh over his shoulder. "Comfy?" Kylo asks.
She laughs, a little, smiling at him, feeling giddy and silly and right. "Yeah. Are you going to make me better than comfortable?"
He kisses the inside of her knee, and thigh, and then brushes his lips over her delta. "I certainly hope so."
She lays back, stretching her arms over her head, taking up almost the whole width of the table, wriggling in a content way, hooking her leg around his neck, pulling him a little closer before saying, "Then get to it, Master Ren."
He moans at that, and she can feel the smile, through their bond, and against her body, as his lips and tongue seek her out.
A long, decadent sound slips out of her mouth as he starts licking. He's taking his time, going slow and easy, stroking himself in time to what he's doing with his tongue. Making both of them feel good.
Rey tightens her leg against his back, giving him a little non-verbal faster hint.
Kylo smirks and goes slower. Letting his tongue and lips linger and ease over her wet skin. Savoring her flesh against his, her taste on his tongue, and her body thrilling at his.
Rey whimpers at him and he laps that sound up, letting it spark through him. Good love, so good.
Her hips arch up against him, trying to get him to speed up. Both of his hands close around her hips. Nope, thrums clear from his mind to hers, as his tongue just eases inside of her before gliding back out. Nice and slow and easy. I want to remember this every time I sit at this table.
"I will fuck you on this table every night this week if you speed up!"
You'll fuck me every night this week if I speed up or not. He gently presses his tongue to her pearl and just holds it there. Sweet, firm pressure and not a hint of motion. He's grinning, at least as well as he can with his mouth open, as he does it.
Rey whimpers. "You're evil."
You knew that going into this. He doesn't move his tongue, but he does, lightly, and slowly, so, so slowly purse his lips and give her a very gentle suck. He keeps that up, lips sliding up and back, so slowly, though he does increase the pressure of the suck, making her whole body throb with each pull.
Rey's hips try to thrust, or squirm, or something, anything to get some friction, but he's holding her down, good and steady.
"Kylo!"
He sucks just a little harder, presses a little more firmly with his tongue, and just as slowly releases the pressure so the tip of his tongue is just barely touching her pearl, and then he slowly, so slowly presses back down again.
Her hands, thighs, toes, maomao are all clenching, needing more everything. She blasts him with a wave of her frustration, of how she needs faster and more.
I love how that feels. If she were less entrenched in her own body, she could feel him reveling in this. Feel the pulse of need echoing through his own skin, feel his hand on his shaft, squeezing hard, keeping himself down, stretching this moment out and out.
As it is she's narrowing down to the feel of her pearl, all of her attention on it, and his lips around it, and the slow, steady, almost but not quite, just barely enough purse of his lips over her flesh.
"Please! Kylo!"
The please breaks him. Shudders through him, makes him leak. He's up, over her, hand on his shaft, guiding it into her in one long, deep, fast, hip snapping thrust.
She hisses in pleasure, a fast, exhaled breath, almost pounded out of her by the speed of his thrust, and he groans. Yes, slow was good, but… fuck this is better.
Fast… He's got his hands on her hips, his legs braced against the table, and uses his hips and knees to get all of his speed and power into this. If she wants fast, he can do fast.
Deep. Fast and deep. He pulls one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her wider, burying himself into her, both of them grunting at the feel of it.
She arches up to meet him, wrapping her leg around his hips, pulling herself onto him, pulling him deeper into her. She groans and he curses at the feel of it, of slick, sweet friction, the growing build of pleasure.
She reaches between them to rub her pearl. She's close. Him moving through her, slick and easy and fast is almost enough. The feel of her fingers, fast and hard, gets her to a hair's breadth away. The look on his face, tense, focused, almost in pain, watching her body taking his, her fingers on her pearl, and the feel of all of it, her body, his, her pleasure, his, that gets her over the edge.
Her body, thrashing and quivering around his, that tosses him over the edge, too.
He spends a moment, leaning over her, hands braced on the table, her legs soft and loose, feet resting on his calves, both of them panting, before becoming aware of the fact that that thing he really likes to do after sex, namely just snuggle right up with her in a boneless heap, is not really an option on his office table.
He's about to say something like, "I didn't think this through," when he notices that she's pulled them into bed, and a second or two of shifting around has her on top of him, head tucked under his chin against his chest, and both of them in an awfully good mood.
He kisses the top of her head. "If I ever tell you teleporting is overrated, you have my permission and instructions to slap some sense into me with your unlit staff."
She laughs at that. "I'll admit, it's handier than I was expecting it to be."
He's laughing now, too. His fingers trail over her back, and she purrs a little.
"So, no more Lord and Lady Ren…" She kisses the bit of chest under her lips.
He strokes her hair. "Not… like that, at least. They'll likely still call us that, as a sign of respect and status, but… I don't know what the word is… Corporation, maybe, but… It won't be an empire, and it won't be politics, because both of those are about making the people who don't want to do what you want to do, do it anyway. I don't care about the ones who don't want us. They can go do whatever the hell it is they want to do, and as long as they leave us be, we'll leave them be, and…"
Rey shifts a little, propping up so she can look him in the eyes. His eyes are warm, expression happy, bright.
"We're going to build it for the people who want us, Rey. They're going to come to us, and maybe we can't give them a better galaxy, taking over the whole galaxy is overrated, but we can give them the chance at a better life, and…"
"And that's all anyone needs, Kylo. Just the chance."
He nods, kissing her lips. "Yeah."
If it weren't for the fact that Lord Ren and a… friend… were seen strolling about the F deck, munching popcorn of all things, the fact that the janitorial staff found the throne room and office littered with clothing would have been hot gossip.
But, well… The Master and his companion, (Lady? Mistress? Given that said clothing was found all over the throne room and office, they're obvious good friends.) were seen out and about thoroughly overshadowed the clothing in the throne room.
After all, the rumor that the Master has a Mistress is old.
The rumor that both of them, went out, together, in public, is new.
So, yes, there were some giggles about what they did after roaming about, but the fact that they were out, (The Master never goes out.) what they were wearing, (Apparently the Master has informal clothing, though it's black. His lady was in pretty, bright, casual clothing.) that they spent a while talking about… Lando Calrissian of all people (There are a lot of ideas as to why, but none of them are right.) that the Master likes his popcorn with chocolate and burnt sugar, that his lady hand fed him some and stole a piece from him, without him even blinking, that… They appeared to be… on a date… The Master… Goes on dates (or at least a date)… With a woman (Who? No one knows. Though speculation is rife. Everyone who saw Rey thinks she looks like someone. A particularly famous holo-novella star is the current winning contender for the Master's Companion.)… And walks around, holding her hand, being… cute and affectionate. (Since the last time the majority of the Order saw the Master, he was cutting the head off a rival General, the idea that he does things like wander about hand in hand with his lady sharing popcorn is just… beyond belief to most of the people who didn't see it personally, and pretty stunning for the ones who did.)
The Officer class is buzzing with gossip, and more than a few heads on the verge of exploding.
And Kinear, when he gets the story, three days later, settles back and smiles. It's about time this Empire had an Empress, and he's beyond pleased to see that the Master is starting to show her, and himself with her, around.