Love is not a beautiful thing. It is sometimes marvelous, it is sometimes all you want, but it is not beautiful. It is addictive and it turns people from their heads to look at their heart. You cannot see as far from the heart. You cannot know as much. Sometimes the pair worked together; they had before on that little island on Skye. They had at the temple. They had been an open pair. Now they fought bitterly, throwing the past in with the present, throwing in feeling with reality.

Ailsa was left alone for two days after her last training session with Kylo Ren. She was kept in her room, the door only opened for food and to deliver fresh clothes and towels. They kept her clean, they kept her full, and yet they kept her. She was theirs; a pet to train. A wild animal to turn to their side and use for their cause.

Wild animals, truly wild animals, rarely turn their loyalty to any whilst in a cage.

Kylo Ren knew this. He knew that so long as Ailsa was kept in that little box on the big ship she would be restless, pacing back and forth, angry, frustrated, but not with anything or anyone except them. Her fury needed to be aimed. It needed to be harnessed.

Her power was great; it was not strong, it was not overwhelming, but she was agile and smart. She was a fox amongst wolves. Kylo had the Storm Troopers train her for a day, had Captain Phasma take the lead and drill the young woman into exhaustion. They were not good to her, they were not kind. She had tried to murder their leader, had cracked his ribs. Many who were part of the training had been there to fire the shot that had her lying broken in the snow.

They fired at her again, this time with stun shots, always aiming as she stood with a blindfold and a troop of soldiers trying to leave burn marks upon her flesh. They then took her lightsabers and had her fight without her power; they had her pitched against three men in armor as a single woman in cotton. Bruises were made, cuts formed.

Phasma was half impressed by the fire in the woman. She was like a cold wind; she just kept blowing through despite what was put up, despite what was set in her path to slow her. A few storm troopers sat in a bruised heap in the corner, but Ailsa was worse for wear. One detriment to this girl's fighting was that she was so focused that she no longer paid heed to her body until her body shut down on her. It was a technique taught to her on board The Dauntless. They had shaped her in the way of a bezerker; taught her to fight pain as well as an enemy. It would be her downfall if she could not be shown another way.

Phasma stopped the session and had Ailsa taken to the medical ward. She had burns that needed treating, bruises that needed soothing, and a wheeze to her breathing that was no doubt a remnant from her punctured lung. They found scar tissue in her chest made by the prolonged healing she had been forced to endure. The laying in bed, the being strapped to the interrogation rack…she would forever wheeze after a certain point.

"I think they broke me." She mentioned as Kylo Ren finally appeared. He was masked and he had just consulted with Phasma about the training. He did not remove his helmet. He noted how she addressed him ever so slightly as she used to, with a hint of a crooked smile. "I'm defective. You'll have to get a new one."

"You start squeaking when you get tired, don't overplay it."

"It is not squeaking. It's more of an asthmatic accent."

"Don't overplay it. Phasma tells me that her soldiers got a number of good hits on you."

"I'm pretty sure I broke one of their wrists."

"If it had been a fight for your life – you would have died."

"If it had been a fight for my life – they would have died with me." Ailsa winced a little as a droid applied an antiseptic to a burn on her shoulder.

Kylo dismissed the droid, the wound healing easily under the advanced medical care of The First Order. It was a stun shot; it would not kill her. If she died it would be a surprise. This was one human who seemed to cling on; the kind who became a ghost story. She had always been made for ghost stories; always lingering that fine line between the two extremes that were accepted.

She turned to him on the bench, feed not even touching the floor. Her legs crossed as she perched there before him, head cocking a little to the side as she watched her own reflection in his mask. The last time she'd seen him a storm trooper had entered the training room to bring a message to him. He'd pushed her away with The Force so nonchalantly, taking the tablet and walking from the room, giving a half-baked order to see the girl back to her room.

She knew he was as conflicted as she was. He was not as angry as her, he did not suffer the same sense of betrayal, but he had known the same love and the same loss. Kylo had initiated the chain of events, he had set them in motion and let her suffer it, let them all suffer it. And he still gave no answers.

Ailsa reached up silently toward him, reaching out as she had dreamed of doing a thousand times, and touched that mask. She felt the cold metal of the helmet, she felt his eyes boring into her from behind the visor. Long fingers slipped beneath the edge, unclipping the pieces that held the thing together, letting it loose so it opened from his face.

He did not resist her. Kylo even tipped his head forward a small way to assist her removal of the thing, watching as her eyes followed it to her lap. She traced the lines of the helmet with such an unreadable expression, followed its dents and its shape with a nameless curiosity.

"Like your grandfather…" Ailsa mentioned quietly. She felt a bit less defensive around him; he had tasted the same, smelled the same. He felt different but this was the same person. Maybe she was seeing a new depth to him. Maybe he was just wearing the body of someone she knew.

"He was a great Sith."

"He was great with The Force on both sides." Ailsa looked up to Kylo. "Same as you."

The man was silent. His jaw tightened. "I came to bring you on a mission."

"Kylo…"

"It is an order."

"I am exhausted. I need to rest. You have been working me toward insanity."

"You're not insane yet, and you are in no position to question me. I am now your commanding officer."

The words were hard. They were sharp and clipped. Ailsa looked at the helmet, feeling like the voice came from within it instead of from the mouth of the man before her. "Yes, Sir."

She said it not as submission, but so he might hear how it sounded. He might hear how awkward the title was. His jaw grew tighter and he let out a breath. "You're going to get killed if you keep being so stubborn."

"Stubborn? You would do the same in my position."

"I would not be in your position."

"What does that have to say about me then?"

"Maybe that you're easy to manipulate. Maybe you believe to well in people."

"I guess that says more about you than it does about me?"

"How is that? It is a weakness in you."

"You are manipulating that weakness then. You are using it to your advantage; only enemies do that."

"Do you wish for me to be your enemy?"

"I wish for you to not be such an asshole. I know you, Kylo Ren."

"And I know you. Remember that. I. Know. You. I know your weaknesses, I know your strengths…"

"You know the person you thought died. That you thought you killed."

"And you thought the same for me."

Ailsa set the mask aside, a hand still on the top of the helmet, eyes on its blackness for a long moment. "Did you think about me at all?"

He was silent. "Yes."

"Did you miss me?"

"No."

"You were always a bad liar."

Kylo let out a sigh. The whole façade, the whole commander look did not work on her. She could not be cowed. She had to have trust, she had to have loyalty. That was her weakness. She believed in what was so easy to fake. She believed she could see through masks.

He kissed her again then, hands on the small of her back as they pulled her toward him. Her legs wrapped around his body, arms tangling over his shoulders as she kissed him back. He explored her shape readily, her lips moving to the line of his jaw. Kylo hooked a hand beneath her knee, hitching her leg a little higher as he pressed nearer.

"So." She murmured into his ear. "Where are we going on this mission? I assume you are to be my…chaperone."

His mouth came to hover over hers, teeth grazing her lower lip as he watched how far he could lure her, as he watched her look for Ben. "We're going to follow a trail."

"Whose trail?"
"Skywalker's."

Ailsa leant back a little, brow a bit furrowed. "Luke Skywalker?"

"Yes." He pulled her nearer again, the heavy cloth of his clothing disguising his pulse from her. "Once we find him, you'll have to choose. Him or me."

"Ren…" Ren. Just one noise of his old name.

"Don't." He almost ordered her. "Don't. Question. Me."

"Don't tell me what to do."
"I am your commander."

"I don't give a fuck."
"I control whether you live or die."

"You control the fear of life and death. I have died already."

"What do you fear?"

"That cage you keep sending me to."

"Ah."

"Don't 'ah' at me."

He bit her lower lip, catching her between his teeth. She belonged to no one, but she could be lured. She could be guided. Yet, in her embrace and under her scent it was hard to tell which way was up. The path blurred so easily with her. The view became what mattered.

"What of Skye? Do you fear what I will do to them?" He ran a thumb over her lips, gloves hiding him almost completely.

Ailsa pressed a palm against the flesh just above his hip, in the soft space where his own bones did not protect him. "You know that whatever you do to them, I will unleash on you tenfold."

"But I would do it regardless."

"I can't believe that."

"Why? I killed an entire temple of Jedi. A little planet would be easy."

Her gaze dropped. Kylo watched the shape of her nose, felt her push his hand away. He saw a pain in her expression that he had never seen before, but one he had felt. The pain of the past, the sort that came when you relived it with such acuity that it burned old images anew on your soul. Images of fire, of blood, of smoke. Images of ice.

His touch turned gentle, bringing her eyes back to his. He could play her easily. He could toy with that game. But she played too, and she did not play fair. She played for keeps. It was a dangerous tangle to be in Ailsa's embrace. It was a risk, a gamble, and the stakes were so high.

"Where are we going?" Ailsa asked again.

"We're following a map."

"Where is the map?"

"You're going to find out for me."

Ailsa felt herself nodding in reply. She felt that she was reaching out for him as she had for his helmet, touching what was left, trying to find if anything was left in the first place. In that moment, she felt his walls go up immediately. She felt them come up but with her inside. She felt herself locked in there with him; just as she had been before. All those years ago Ailsa had been within his walls, and he within hers. They had lived within their own city and had been blind to so much within it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He did not send her back to her 'cage'. Ailsa was given a new room, one away from those made for political prisoners and those who did not suit a standard cell. They gave her her weapons back, setting them on a side table. She had a window, a bath, and her own communicator. They even gave her books to read and a place to stretch and meditate. Yet the door still locked. She was locked in her own privacy, kept silent until such a time as she was needed. But now she could open the door instead of having it opened on her.

It was a benefit to the room. It was a benefit Kylo Ren had within his own quarters. His suite was larger, it was his space, it was quitter than any other. No one came in or left without his knowledge. Nothing moved without his knowing about it.

He'd seen her put just down the hall from him. He did not care if they saw her leave his quarters. He did not care what the gossips said. Hux would have a word or two no doubt, but they were unimportant musings.

Ailsa stared at his armor, the suit lain out so neatly and so readily at hand. The helmet of Vader sat on the table, set across from a chair as if it might offer knowledge and guidance.

"What?" Kylo asked from behind her, an arm snaking over her waist beneath the sheets. "You said you were exhausted."

Ailsa half smiled at that. "Now you are exhausted too."

"You are hard work."

"Am I? Have you been practicing on others to make sure you get it right?"

He scoffed. "Do you want to know the answer to that?"

"Not at all." Came the honest reply. "Why? Do you want to ask me the same thing?"

"Yes. And I want the answer."

"You are getting neither. It is not important."

"I want to know."

"Why?"

"So I can kill him."

"Who said it was a him? And who said you got a say over what I got up to in the last decade?"

Kylo watched as she turned to hover half above him, twisting to lay on her side and peer down upon his face. She'd vented more in the last short while with him than any training session could have accomplished, and yet she still had not told him the truth. She still felt like she had bottled so much inside, like there was a wealth of sensation aimed at him that neither might survive. This was easier. Distance was easy, close proximity allowed for blindness.

"I thought you hated me." His face seemed vulnerable for a split second.

"I did." Ailsa confessed. "For a long time. You murdered me."

"I murdered Ben too."

"Maybe."

Silence.

"What is this then? Was this a mistake?"

"This doesn't have to be anything."

"It is always something."

"Ailsa, shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up. It's rude."

"Ailsa…"

"Don't. And please don't ask me about my feelings." She sat up, hand in her hair, eyes peering about the gloom of the room. The lights were set for mid-evening, the day having waned away. "Like you said – this doesn't have to be anything."

It had just sort of…happened. Much like the first time, all had been driven by instinct, connection steering the way. This time, unlike the first, it had been so primal and desperate. Each hungered for the other but continued to starve through the meal.

Ailsa felt a shiver in her limbs as he ran his fingers up the ridge of her spine. "We're leaving in the morning. First thing."

"Yes, Sir."

"If you cross me…"

"I wont."

"Good."

A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying the story! The change in dynamic between Kylo and Ailsa is something I enjoy writing. What they had was really good, and now it is rather...unhealthy. Let me know what you think; constructive criticism is always welcome.