The next morning, I told Kylo that I wanted to train. Before noon, I was in a sparring ring.

Vicrul was Kylo's War Chief, he was feared and revered throughout the galaxy, and he was tasked with training the best soldiers, turning storm troopers into stone cold killers. Yet, he put his duties on hold to train me, going through the basic footwork and balance of hand to hand combat.

And, stretches. Couldn't forget the abominable stretches that he made look so deceptively easy.

I'd been given special clothing that was snugly fitted and stretchy. Though it was light and breathable, my skin was slick with sweat, especially down my back, where I could feel the top clinging to me.

Vicrul was patient, even as I stumbled into him, lost my footing, and landed on my backside in the dirt. I panted as I stared up at him and he offered me his hand, his calluses scraping against my skin as he pulled me to my feet with a grunt.

My vision went black, coming back instantly, but I felt his hands on my arms, holding me up. "Let's take a break." He suggested, gently guiding me to a nearby stool. I obeyed, my knees wobbling, my thighs burning with every movement.

He handed me a cold bottle of water with an order of "Sip. Don't gulp."

I nodded, breathing too heavily for an actual response, and took a drink.

The sound of clashing weapons filled the air around us as Kylo and Cardo sparred in the ring to our left, while Trugden and Ap'lek sparred to our right.

"Where's Kuruk and Ushar?" I asked, taking another drink.

"Kuruk spends most of his time in the hangar." Vicrul said. "And i don't even think that Kylo knows where Ushar is or what he's doing. He poofs up whenever he has some pertinent information."

"Did you say he 'poofs' up?"

He nodded. "Ushar can teleport, so he literally poofs. With purple smoke if he feels like showing off." He drained his water, and put the empty bottle down. "Ready to get back at it?"

My eyes widened in dread and he smiled. "You're right, I think we've done enough for one day."

"I haven't done anything." I grumbled. "Even your twelve year old students are more advanced than I am."

He sat on the ground next to me. "My twelve year old students have been studying for two years, minimum. They're raised to be warriors. You weren't."

I couldn't argue that. No, I was raised to be sold as breeding stock for the highest price. I'd grown up knowing that was my fate, and I accepted it. But, now… now that Kylo had filled my head with the notions that I was more, that I deserved more, I was beginning to believe him.

"Hey." He said. "No one expects you to get it on the first day. We've just been doing it longer so it's easier for us, that's all."

I smiled. "Considering I'll be so sore tomorrow that I won't be able to move, I appreciate that."

He looked back to the others in the sparing rings. "You are nothing like what I was expecting."

I gave him a look. "What were you expecting?"

He shrugged. "Spoiled, prissy, pampered, the personality of a potato. You know?"

Yes, I supposed that's what he would have been expecting. "The compliment is dazzling, Vicrul, thank you." I said, flatly.

"Aside from the fact that you're sarcastic and funny." He said. "We're all damn impressed that you even took me up on my offer to train. That took balls."

My forehead crinkled.

"Er...uh...courage." He amended. "It took courage for you to agree to train with me."

I laughed once without humor. "I am the least courageous person you'll ever meet."

He pursed his lips as his eyes narrowed up at me, confusion knitting his brow.

"I let my grandfather lock me away. I let him marry me off to Kylo." I shook my head. "Any one with a grain of courage would have fought back."

The line between his brows deepened. "Fought back? What do you mean? Fought Kylo?"

"No." I rolled my eyes. "Please don't make me have that conversation with you. I don't have the strength."

"What conversation?"

I sighed, watching my husband as he sparred, his skin gleaming with sweat, his black hair hanging in his face, his movements looking like an elegant dance. "Some people, well, most everyone who learns the circumstances of our marriage, they automatically assume that Kylo is-" I looked down at Vicrul, who seemed even more confused. "That he...forces me."

His blond eyebrows flew up.

"Which he doesn't." I added.

"Of course he doesn't."

"Right, if anyone actually met him, they would know what manner of man he is."

"No one wants to meet him. No one wants to get to know him. Which could be a good, or a bad thing, depending on how you look at it." He put his elbows on his knees. "If they did get to know him, they'd know that he wouldn't. Plus, there's the oath."

I looked over at him. "Oath?"

He nodded. "When he became Supreme Leader, we all took an oath of fealty. Remain loyal, never cause him harm, protect him from those who would harm him, yada yada. But, when he married you, he told us that the oath no longer applied to him, and that we were to protect you at all costs, from all threats." He frowned, his voice turning grave. "Even him, if necessary."

I swallowed. "From him?"

He nodded. "He would never, and I hope you know that. But, if. If he's compromised in some way, or if we ever even suspect. We're to get you out first, ask questions later."

"Is it because he doesn't trust himself?"

"No, it's….after what happened to his mother, when his power was completely unleashed, he…" Vicrul sighed.

"He's afraid he'll lose control again?"

"He's afraid of that, of a more powerful Lord coming after his power and taking over his mind." He looked up at me. "Mostly, he's afraid of becoming his father. Of treating you the way he saw him treat his mother."

He didn't. Not even close, from what little I'd been told.

"You feel that you're not courageous because you didn't fight Palpatine about getting married?' Vicrul asked, reminding me of how we'd started this conversation.

"Right, I should have…" I shrugged. "Done something." Told him I wasn't for sale, that my life was meant for more than just giving the King an heir.

"Kylo's mother tried to fight." He said, lowly. "She tried to run away a few times, but-" He shook his head as he remembered. "He always found her. He always brought her back." His hazel eyes came to me. "Do you know that Kylo has enacted an indefinite stand down order with you?"

An indefinite...what? "No. What is that?'

"That's an order that he gave as Supreme Leader and as King that if you ever want to leave, we stand down. No matter the circumstances."

"Like on Bespin when he had a vessel docked on the ready for me?" I said.

"That declaration on Bespin was more for show." He explained. "If you'd tried to flee on your wedding night, he would've let you. He probably would've been relieved if you had."

My heart sank. Why? I didn't know. I hadn't wanted to be married to him any more than he wanted to be married to me, at least not to begin with.

"You know why, don't you?" Vicrul asked.

"Why he gave the order or why he didn't want to marry me?" My voice was a bit sour.

"Both." He clarified. "Why he made you Queen Consort, why he never forces you to do anything, why he is the way he is?"

I shook my head.

"Because he had to watch what Snoke did to his mother. How powerless she was, and how hard she fought, he had to watch. It's what he was raised in."

That wasn't something I had considered, that he was refusing to put me through what he'd seen done to his mother. It made sense.

When I returned to my room that evening, I was met by Sara, who flew into a frenzy as soon as she saw me.

"Exactly what have you being doing today?" She demanded, pushing me into the bathing room, where a steaming bath was waiting.

Apparently, telling her the truth, that I'd been training with Vicrul and the rest of the Knights, was not the appropriate response.

"Wife of the King spending the day with his war-lord, learning to fight! Such nonsense!" She peeled off my dirty clothes, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Never in my life has a lady under my keep smelled like you do, now."

Yeah, I smelled. My clothes had been damp from actual sweat, what did she expect me to smell like?

She scrubbed me until my skin was pink, muttering her disapproval, then rubbed perfumed oil into my skin. Instead of my cotton nightgown, she held up a sheer nightie by its straps.

"Has Kylo asked for me?" I asked, eyeing it.

"It's your week." She reminded me curtly, holding the negligee up to pull it over my head.

My week, I'd completely forgotten. I was expected to go to Kylo's room tonight, and the next four nights, while I was most fertile. I obeyed, letting her pull a comb through my wet hair before she draped my robe over my shoulders and walked me down the hall to Kylo's room. She pushed me inside, snatching the robe off before closing the door behind her.

I looked around, bringing my arms up to cover my breasts, my erect nipples that were visible through the white voile of the nightie, goosebumps rising as I shivered.

The door of Kylo's adjoining bathroom opened and he walked out, a white towel wrapped around his waist, his wet hair still dripping. He looked up and jumped. "Rey!" His eyes raked over me before he deliberately turned away, his jaw tight. "What are you-"

"It's my w-week."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Fuck."

"I f-forgot t-too." I stammered through chattering teeth.

"You're cold." He said, still not looking at me. "I don't mean this how it sounds, but get in bed."

I didn't hesitate, pulling the comforter back and slipping between the sheets. He grabbed his clothing off the end of the bed and went back into the bathing room, coming out a few minutes later clad in black sleep pants, and a faded band t-shirt from a farewell tour.

He glanced up at me. "You're still shaking."

"I'm st-still c-cold."

I saw the muscles of my throat work as he swallowed, uncertainty clouding his eyes. His hands fisted at his sides, his thumbs rubbing his pointer fingers. "Do you need another blanket?"

My voice was surprisingly steady when I said, "Could you…come here?'

His eyes glazed a bit, and it was an effort to keep my breathing even, the thud of my heart quickening as he nodded. He moved the blanket, and the mattress dipped as he sat, then laid back. His bed was massive, and he was still a few feet away.

I knew that he wouldn't come closer, wouldn't extend a hand, or even suggest such a thing without me making the first move, so I took a deep breath, and closed the distance between us. He lifted his arm so that I could lay my head on his chest, pushing my body against the hard warmth of his.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and his hand began tracing small circles on the bare skin of my arm.

I put my leg between his, and felt his breathing hitch, heard his pulse quicken. "What are you thinking?" I asked, my voice soft.

"How amazing it is that you make me feel like a lust crazed teenager." He answered immediately. "I've had lovers, I've had casual flings, but you..."

I looked up to find him staring at me, his face a few inches from mine.

He brought his other hand up to gently stroke my cheek. "You are the only one who's ever made my heart skip a beat."

I smiled up at him and his eyes softened, his pupils flaring.

He tucked a lock of my still damp hair behind my ear. "What are you thinking?"

My heart leapt into my throat, and I swallowed, my stomach tying into knots. "I'm thinking…" Don't lose your nerve, don't lose your nerve. "That I want you to kiss me."

His eyes searched mine, his hand still cradling my face, his thumb stroking my cheek, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was soft, and heart-breakingly tender, but it ignited a fire low in my belly that made me crave more. More what? I didn't know.

I moved my hand to the side of his face, pulling him to me, refusing to part from his lips, fireworks clouding my head. I opened my mouth, fully yielding to him, and he groaned, his arms crushing me to him as his tongue swept in.

I could barely breathe. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him, it clouded my senses in delicious intoxication, heat pooling between my legs almost painfully. I broke away to suck in air, and his lips grazed my jaw before finding the sensitive flesh of my neck. With the first sweep of his tongue, I moaned and bucked, grinding my hips against him with a throbbing need that I didn't understand.

His hand on my face pulled me back to him, gently sucking on my bottom lip before his tongue clashed with mine.

I found the tail of his shirt and my hand moved under, feeling the warm skin of his stomach, the corded muscle beneath. He sighed at the contact, which encouraged me to move my hand lower, to the waistband of his pants.

He pulled away as if he'd been burned. "What are you doing?" He panted.

"I'm sorry!" I snatched my hand back. "Did I do it wrong?"

He shook his head. "No." His arms loosened around me. "I just need to know what you want to do, and what you don't want to do."

My face heated, and I chewed on my bottom lip, uncertainty settling in my stomach.

"No." He said, replacing his hand on my cheek. "Don't shut down. You didn't do anything wrong." He tilted my chin up so that my eyes met his. "Just tell me what you want to do."

My heart leapt into my throat. I was panting, the ache low in my belly, between my legs foreign and confusing. I didn't know what I needed, what I wanted, and embarrassment was taking over, doubt stealing every bit of my resolve. "I don't know." I admitted in a small voice.

He nodded once. "That's fine." He assured me, and planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Could I...sleep here?" I asked.

His brow furrowed. "With me?"

I nodded.

He swallowed. "Of course you can. Absolutely."

I snuggled down next to him, resting my head on his chest, and he pulled the blanket up to cover my shoulder. His fingers began tracing circles on my arm again.

Exhaustion hit me all at once, and sleep took me.