Published June 20, 2023
Author's Note: I made some changes in the layout of the villa, partly because I rewatched the scenes from Attack of the Clones that take place there. Notably, there is a sitting room in between the bedrooms and other rooms in the master suite.
"The Condition"
For it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than holocausts. ~ Hosea 6:6
As the sky darkened, and the candledroids in the palace turned on, the anxiety that had accompanied Rey to the Plaintive Hand Plateau started to creep back into her heart, like a tide that had reached its lowest point and was now rising.
Once again, her bridegroom was coming, and she had no idea how to prepare. After such a bewildering day, she hardly knew what to expect—though she had some general guesses, which kept her nerves high.
Rey did not like being vulnerable. She had always tried to be strong, in order to survive and protect herself, her friends, and anyone who could not protect themselves. She knew how to be strong for others in their times of need. But now there was no one she needed to protect or encourage, nor anyone to do the same for her. She only had herself to rely on. Maybe that was the true test of strength: how strong one could be when one was completely alone and unsupported.
She could almost hear Lor San Tekka scolding her: she had the gods to rely on, too. She offered up a final, silent prayer: Be with me.
She could do this. She had to do this. She would not pretend to be eager about it, but she would not hide from it.
The Tico women—Rose, Paige, and their mother—had told her as much as she needed to know about reproductive biology as she grew up. When she was younger, she had processed the information only in a scientific way, understanding it as a necessary function for the survival of a species, without seeing the appeal. But gradually, as she grew older, the mystery had become less bizarre and more intriguing.
Up until now, she had forced herself not to think too much about her marital duties. But her interaction with the man on the mountain made her think, for the first time, that it might not be so bad. He had been gentle with her, and he had brought her here, to this paradise. It seemed like a sanctuary. But the more suspicious part of her mind told her it could just as easily be a prison. Perhaps it was meant to make her lower her defenses, or to put make her feel indebted to her bridegroom.
While she was determined not to hide, she wondered whether her intended would still hide behind a mask. What was he hiding? What was the point, since she was resigned to marrying him? Was he so ugly or monstrous that the sight of him might repulse her, make her change her mind?
Ultimately, it did not really matter what she thought or felt about him. She could not resist him, whatever he intended. The oracle had said peace depended on their union, and Rey was fairly certain that meant more than just a legal arrangement. If she tried to get out of this situation now, her friends and neighbors would surely suffer because of it.
Her mind sought logic and practicality, wanting them to override her confusing and conflicted emotions. Did he intend to marry her tonight, or at a later date? Did he expect her to wear the wedding dress when he arrived? Would they have a ceremony, even if there were no witnesses besides the droids? Or did he mean to simply join her in bed? If that was the case, should she wait for him there? Should she wear some nightclothes, or nothing at all?
In the face of so many unknowns, Rey decided to simply remain in the courtyard, without changing anything about her appearance. It was enough that she had cleaned up in the luxurious bath and put on clothes provided for her. She had already allowed this place to transform her.
At last, she heard the door slide open behind her, and the footsteps of a heavy bipedal creature on the cobblestones. She braced herself, then turned around calmly to face the newcomer.
It was the same black-robed figure. His hood was pulled back from his helmet and hung hang around his shoulders as a scarf.
"Hello, Rey," he greeted her in the same mechanized voice.
Somehow she found her voice and matched his polite tone. "Hello."
He crossed the courtyard slowly, and stopped to stand several feet away from Rey. Her expression was almost as blank as his mask as they regarded each other. She could see that, even without his hood, helmet, and boots, he was several inches taller than she was at her full height. The silver lines of his mask, covering where his eyes should have been, seemed to shimmer in the light from the candledoids hovering about.
"How are you?" he asked finally.
Rey fought back a laugh. How could she begin to answer that truthfully? "I feel like I'm in a dream."
The ambiguity was not lost on him. He pressed, "A good dream or a bad dream?"
"I don't know yet." She leaned one arm on the courtyard wall and tilted her head as she studied him. "Where were you this afternoon?"
"I thought it might be better for you to look around on your own. But I'm here now." He paused, possibly hesitating, and his next words almost sounded apologetic. "We have a lot to talk about." He extended his gloved hand to her once again. "Will you come inside with me?"
Her eyes flitted between his eye-slits and his hand. "Do I have a choice?"
"We can stay out here, if you prefer. It will be getting cold, though. I thought we could go to the sitting room in our suite."
Rey had noticed the temperature dropping. Being out in the open seemed like the safest way to meet … but it was not as though he needed to lure her away. They were in a secluded place. She had no friends and no weapons. She was as vulnerable as she would ever be. Figuring she had nothing to lose that she had meant to keep, she placed her hand in his, and let him tuck it into his arm and guide her into the palace.
The candledroids lining the hallway cast sheens of light on the tiled floors and smooth stone walls. The effect was beautiful, but also a bit unnerving, like ghosts. A place like this, so mysterious and seemingly timeless, might actually be haunted.
When they reached the master suite, the door opened automatically for them, and the man in black removed his arm from Rey's only to put it around her waist. She did not look at him, but gathered her courage and stepped with him into the sitting room. They stopped at as the door shut behind them.
The lighting in the room was dim, softened by the cloth decorations and upholstered furniture, which gave the atmosphere a kind of glow.
After taking in the room, the two of them looked sideways at each other, her eyes meeting the slots in his mask. For a moment, neither of them said a word. Then, they both began to speak, but broke off when they heard each other's voice.
"You first," he offered politely, removing his arm from her back.
Rey tried to sound civil, or merely curious, rather than snarky. "Are you going to keep that mask on the whole time?"
He glanced away, and she followed his gaze to a control panel on the wall next to the door. The most prominent buttons were a large white circle and a large black circle placed side by side, with a lock and key above them. "I can take it off—but we would have to turn off the lights. Is that alright with you?"
Rey's voice rose in pitch. "You want me to sit in a dark room with you?"
There was a twinge of impatience in his voice. "Or the darkness outside—the point is, you can't see me, but you can decide how that works. Either I stay covered, or we stay in the dark."
She fought back bitter, incredulous laughter. "That's hardly a choice. I can't see you either way."
He sighed, and his voice became exasperated. "Rey. Sweet, strong, stubborn Rey. I will grant you every other possible wish; but, until I say otherwise, the one rule I need to insist on is that you don't see me—and don't ask why." He had anticipated her immediate response.
She scowled, but made up her mind. If he would not show his true face, she wanted to at least hear his true voice. "Fine. Turn off the light."
He nodded, and then turned to the control panel. Rey watched closely to see how the commands worked: he pressed the black button, and the room's lights immediately went out. The windowless room was so dark, Rey could not even make out any silhouettes. She heard a sound like a key being turned—that must have been to ensure it remained dark.
There was a mechanical sound like gears turning, and then a woosh of air. Then, he spoke, and his voice was different—still quite deep, but more like a normal human voice. "Better?"
"Well … I'm glad to know you're not a machine," Rey said, half joking.
He chuckled, and she heard his footsteps, followed by a muffled sound as he sat down on the sofa. "Will you sit with me?"
She cautiously stepped in his direction, but when her hands found the opposite end of the sofa, she remained there and said, "I'd rather stand."
He did not question her preference. Instead he asked, "What do you think of our home?"
Our home. Did that mean he had already been living there? Did he intend to live there with her? "It's wonderful," Rey said truthfully, unable to hide her admiration.
"Is everything to your liking?"
This time she could not keep the laughter out of her voice. "I can't complain. I mean—every need is met." That was an colossal understatement.
"Then why are you not happy?" he asked softly.
Did he not understand how peculiar it all was to her? If not, how could she explain? "It's just strange. It all seems too good to be true. I've never seen such a beautiful place. Or so much … so many things. Are they really all for me?" Her voice squeaked on this last question, which embarrassed her even more.
"Yes," he said simply. "It's all for you."
"How is this all yours to give? I've never known anyone who had so much, unless—" She broke off, not wanting to make any unfounded accusations.
"This estate has belonged to my family for generations. All of this is my rightful inheritance. As my wife, it will be yours too. You can't see it all from here, but there's more land on the other side of the hill. I'll be glad to accompany you if you want to explore the rest of the island, or others on the lake."
Island. Lake. Rey tried to process this information, though she had never seen such things until today.
"Is there—" She faltered, wanting to phrase her question carefully. She could not ask outright, Is there any way off the island? as though she were a prisoner plotting her escape. But she wanted to know just how much freedom she had. "Will I ever be able to leave the island—to visit my friends, or travel to other places, if I want?"
"Yes, someday. But not for a while yet. Definitely not now. You wouldn't be safe."
That, at least, was true. "Am I really safe here?"
His answer held no uncertainty: "This is the safest place in the world for you."
"How so?"
"This island has special, ancient protections. Here we're shielded from the gods and their agents, unless we call upon them directly."
"Really?" This idea was liberating. If the gods truly were vying for control of Rey's fate, then this place might be her refuge from any that meant her harm or wanted to use her.
"Really," he confirmed.
"But they'll still hear me if I pray?"
"They will."
Rey had no idea whether to give his words any credit, but for now she changed the subject. "Is there anyone else living here?"
"No. It's just us now."
"Then … why are there so many bedrooms?"
"The large one will be for the two of us. The one on the right is for you, if you want privacy; the one on the left is for me."
Rey paused. "I get my own room?"
"If you want it. I thought you might like a space for yourself."
For a moment Rey wrestled with that idea and the sentiment it conveyed. Her greatest fear was of being alone; yet she had also been apprehensive about having to bear this stranger's company. It was nice, she supposed, to know she could have a reprieve if she wanted. "So if I go in there, you won't follow me?"
"I will not."
Rey found herself believing him, more than not. But she was still quite confused about one point. "So … what happens now? Are we …" She could not say it; she was too afraid, too embarrassed.
His voice was gentle, as though he were trying to be firm and reassuring, though the words came out haltingly. "Only when you're ready. Only if you're willing. But yes … I want—and I intend—to marry you. If you'll have me."
"I have a choice?"
His next remarks were frank, perhaps a little bemused. "I assumed you had made your choice when you came up the mountain. That is kind of the point of your coming here."
The way he said that, as though she were missing something obvious, kindled the anger she had been keeping at bay. "I had no idea I would be here—wherever this is. The oracle didn't give specifics about you or your intentions. You could have been anyone, or anything. I didn't know if I was going to be eaten or raped or killed." She breathed hard, letting those harsh words linger in the air, half expecting him to retaliate.
"I'm sorry," he said at last, sounding apologetic, almost embarrassed. "I didn't … I don't really know what I'm doing."
Rey's anger deflated a little. She did not understand this man, but she sensed his sincerity. He may have held more power in this situation, but he also felt lost. "I guess that makes two of us."
He did not answer. Rey decided to sit down on the opposite end of the sofa. Then she folded her arms and spoke in his direction. "So what are you trying to do? I came here to protect my people and meet my fate head-on. What's your reason for doing all this?"
His voice was soft. "Why do you think, Rey? Weren't you listening on the mountain?"
She wanted to point out how close she had been to passing out by that point, but she remembered their first interaction clearly. For a moment she was glad that they were in the dark, so he could not see her blush or hug herself. "You said you loved me."
"I do," he said simply.
That may have been the strangest thing of all. "How? Why? Do you even know me?"
"I've known you from a distance for a long time. Since you were very small. That's all I can tell you now."
"Why?" she hissed. "Why me?"
He let out a short bark of laughter. "Are you fishing for compliments?"
"Of course not. It's just—" The feelings she had kept to herself for so long finally came to her lips. "Everyone says they know me and love me. But no one really does."
"I do," he swore. "Rey, you're extraordinary. Not because of your power—that's just what caught people's attention. What's most impressive is how you use your power. Most beings would use that kind of gift to inspire fear, but you used it to show love. It's no wonder they borderline worshipped you."
"But they never should have, and look what it caused."
"You're right, they shouldn't have. It put them, and you, in great danger—even more than you know. But I can't really blame them." He shifted his weight, and somehow she knew he was leaning forward in earnestness. "Rey, you're brave, strong, beautiful, intelligent … and on top of all that, you're kind, generous, and selfless. You always put other people's needs before your own. You didn't want to go up the mountain, but you did it anyway. I've never known any other mortal being like you."
Rey groaned. "Not you, too. I'm not some deity, alright?"
He had the audacity to chuckle at her frustration. "No, you're not. But if you were—well, you would have made a good one. The point is—I fell in love with you, at the very time you were most lonely and most in danger. I thought this would be the best way to resolve the situation."
"Hiding me away and keeping me all to yourself?" She could not keep an accusatory edge out of her voice. "How is that any different than the bandits who tried to carry me off?"
He answered readily, "It's different in two ways. First, I care about you, not what you can do. Second, I could have taken you away any time, but I didn't. I wanted you to come of your own free will."
"How thoughtful," she said sarcastically.
"I've tried to be," he said, sounding miffed. "In case you haven't noticed, I thought of everything you could want or need."
"I can see that you've tried," she conceded. "You've done everything you can to put me at ease—except, you know, show your face, or explain who and what you really are …"
"If I told you," he said, his voice unexpectedly soft, "you might not believe me."
"Try me," she challenged.
"I can't. Not now."
"Then I'm going to have a hard time believing anything you say."
"Then I'll have to prove my word some other way," he retorted. Before she could ask how he planned to do that, he changed the subject slightly, focusing on how things would work going forward. "I have work I need to do during the day, so I'll be away much of the time. But I'll come here each night, to sleep and spend time with you."
"I see." That helped to explain the various forms of amusement available: Rey would have plenty of time to pass on her own. It would be strange, though, having so much leisure. "Is there anything I need to do, while you're gone? Chores or—"
"No, none. I suppose if you want to work, that's your prerogative, but there's no need for it."
"Really? I don't need to earn my keep?"
"Not at all. This is all yours, freely given. You don't have to pay me back in any way."
She thought of something else. "Do the droids need to supervise me all the time?" She did not mind their company, but she was not used to having any kind of servants.
"No. You can dismiss them whenever you want. You can even shut them down if you prefer, but they're useful for cleaning and maintenance."
"Then … what am I going to do, while I'm here?"
There was mirth in his voice as he answered, "Whatever you want. You're the lady of this house."
"But that means—"
"—that means you can do as you please here. I have only one rule." He paused, as though to underscore the importance of what he said next. Rey expected it to be something about the boundaries she needed to respect, or her duties as a wife. But instead he said: "You can't see me unclothed, and you mustn't ask about who I am or what I do when I'm away."
There was a pause as this sank in.
"Come again?" Rey said.
"I will come each night, after dark. Occasionally I might be able to visit during the day. What we do when we're together is up to you. But you're not to ask where I go or what I do. And above all, you can never see me directly. If we're ever together in the light, either you'll have to wear a blindfold, or I'll have to wear my mask. Otherwise, we'll have to stay in the dark."
Rey was not entirely surprised, given how he had hidden himself so far. But she still asked: "Why?"
"All I can tell you now is that it's safer that way. And besides that, I'd rather not be judged by appearances. If you saw me, you might love me, or you might fear me; but I'd rather we were equals. Darkness is an equalizer."
Rey had heard similar things said about death. She was not sure she liked the idea. Darkness prevented knowledge. It was an aid for secrecy and deception, a cover for deeds too shameful to commit or speak of in the light.
The way he talked about this condition as a safety measure made her wonder. She had heard stories about monsters that could kill simply by making eye contact with a being. On the other hand, she had heard that looking upon a deity in their full glory could result in death. Either possibility filled her with dread.
"Will I die if I see your face?" she asked, her voice small.
After a moment he answered, "No—you wouldn't die on the spot—but there could be other consequences, some of them … devastating to both of us."
"I don't understand."
"You don't need to. In fact, it might be better if you don't. Just trust me."
Of all the extraordinary things she had experienced that day, that entreaty seemed the most ridiculous. "How can I trust someone I don't know? You haven't even told me your name."
A longer silence followed this statement. Rey wondered if she should rephrase it as a question and demand an answer.
Finally, he said, with reluctance, "I can tell you the name I was born with. Will that suffice?"
"I suppose."
After a heavy pause, he informed her, "My parents named me Ben." Something about the way he said it made it sound like a secret, something either sacred or shameful being shared with her.
"Ben," Rey repeated. It was a short, simple name for such an enigmatic figure. She willed her voice to be steady, matter-of-fact, as she asked, "The oracle said I would marry a monster. Is that you? Are you a monster?"
There was another pause. His voice was husky, almost a whisper, as he answered: "Yes, I am." He sounded pained, miserable. But then his voice grew stronger, full of conviction. "But know this, Rey: I will never hurt you. I brought you here because I want you to be safe, and happy."
"And with you? As your wife?"
"After 'safe' and 'happy,' that would be my third priority."
Rey still sensed that he meant what he said. "Well … I'm impressed by your honesty. Especially given how much you are hiding."
His tone became harder, firmer. "Rey, your situation is very delicate. You were, and are, in even more danger than you knew of. I've done everything I could think of to ensure that you'll be alright. That includes hiding myself. Will you please trust that this is for your own good?"
Rey bit her lip. She was pretty sure there was no use arguing. "I can try."
"That's not good enough. You either will, or you won't."
"Fine: I will try."
"You mean you will do as I ask, and not try to see me directly."
"Yes."
"Good." He seemed satisfied.
The silence was filled with a sense of finality, but also the same uncertainty as when they had first begun talking.
"So what do we do now?" Rey asked.
"I was going to ask you that," Ben replied.
She saw no point in delaying the inevitable. Bracing herself, willing herself to be brave, she stood and finally broached the bantha in the room. "Look, if we're going to be married anyway … if we have to eventually … you can just get it over with."
"'Get it over with?'" he repeated, in a tone that might have been either incredulous or indignant, or both.
She did not understand this reaction. "Don't you want me?"
The sofa creaked as he stood. "More than anything. But not if your heart isn't in it. I don't want you to think of me—of this—as something to endure."
"I'm strong—you said so yourself. I can handle it."
She could hear his breathing as audibly as her own. She clenched her fists at her sides, waiting for him to decide what to do and how to do it.
Finally, he spoke, his tone cool and resolute. "I don't doubt that. But what you're saying—what you're thinking—that's not how we're going to do this."
"How, then?"
After a brief pause to think it over, he answered with firmness: "Each night, I'll come and talk to you. And each night, I'll ask if you'll marry me. You will tell me when you're ready—no, not just ready; when you want to marry me. We'll have a ceremony and make the vows and sacrifices. We'll share the bed from then on."
This plan sounded quite orderly, but it filled Rey with confusion. "Why not now?"
Ben stepped closer to her, and the way he spoke, quietly and determinedly, made her body react just as much as the words themselves. "When we marry, it won't be for the sake of saving others, or out of a sense of obligation. It'll be because you love me and want to be with me."
Rey was stunned into silence for a long moment. This contradicted everything she had been told about the nature of men. "It … that really matters to you? How I feel?"
His voice was gentler now, but no less earnest. "You—your happiness, your wellbeing—matter more to me than anything else in the world."
Rey had never heard anyone speak that way. "I … I don't even know what to say to that. If you care that much … if you're hoping for me to return your feelings, I'm not sure I can match them."
"You don't have to." He made a sad, soft noise like a laugh. "It might even be better if you don't. I just want you to love me as much as you're able. And I know that's a lot." Again, he sounded as if he knew her better than she knew herself.
"How can I love someone I don't know?"
"You'll get to know me well enough. At any rate, you're in control of your actions. You can decide how to treat people. You can choose who to show love to." His tone shifted slightly to one of authority, like a teacher or philosopher. "Sometimes love begins as feelings, which inspire action. In other cases, habitual actions inspire feelings. Either way, it's a cycle."
"You sound like quite an expert," Rey said, unable to keep suspicion out of her voice.
He seemed to understand the implication, because his next words were curt and matter-of-fact. "I've studied the theory, and observed the practice. But I've never been married, and I've never been in love before you, so I haven't experienced it firsthand until now."
Rey folded her arms, bouncing her weight between her toes and heels. Her next question was full of doubt. "What if … what if I never feel that way toward you? What if I'd rather not go through with this?"
The silence that followed seemed to be the kind that comes with Ben finally spoke, his voice sounded on the verge of breaking, as though he was full of sorrow, but trying to be strong. "Then we would have to part. You would have to leave, and never be able to return here."
Rey was surprised by how strongly her heart reacted to this. Now that she had seen such a beautiful place, the thought of never seeing it again was almost painful. But she answered, a bit sullenly, "Of course, that makes sense. Nothing comes free."
"It's not because I don't want you to have all this," Ben protested. "But it's your choice whether to accept it—whether to accept me. You can take as much time as you need, but ultimately, you'll have to choose between all of me or none of me. I will respect either choice … even if it breaks one or both of our hearts."
Rey considered this, and remembered her anxieties over the past few weeks. "I guess it's a moot point. Everyone already saw me leave; if I go back openly it'll just cause more problems. I made my choice when I went up the mountain. I just don't see the point of drawing it out."
"I'd rather marry you knowing that it's what you want."
"So … what will we do in the meantime?"
"Whatever you like. I'll be happy just spending time with you. If you want to be closer, I'd more than welcome that." He paused and promised, "I won't touch you without your permission. But … you can touch me if you want."
Rey thought quickly. If she could not see him, then touch would be her only way of assessing his physical appearance. She could not help being curious about him.
"Hold out your hand," she said. Then, feeling somewhat foolish, she waved her arm around in front of her, as though it were a scanner, until it bumped gently into his outstretched hand. She thumbed the edge of his glove and asked, "Can I take this off?"
"You can take off as much as you like," he said. He might have been smirking for all she knew.
She held his wrist with one hand and pulled the glove off with the other. When his hand was bare, she turned it over between both of hers, feeling its shape and texture. She counted five fingers, and the skin was smooth, not calloused from work as her own hands were. As far as she could tell, it felt like a human hand, albeit a large one. She could tell there was strength in it, though at the moment he was relaxed.
Still holding this hand on one of hers, as though they were shaking hands in greeting, she used her other hand to feel her way up his arm, until she reached his shoulder and neck. There she found the ends of his hair, and lifted her hand to run her fingers over it; it was surprisingly soft. Then her hand found his face: a clean-shaven jaw, a large nose, and thick, soft lips that parted just slightly, blowing out cool breath with a sweet smell Rey did not recognize.
"You feel human," she observed, though her tone conveyed that she had room for doubt. "But you can't be a normal person."
He sounded faintly amused. "Did I ever claim to be one?"
Rey lowered her hands, letting go of him and taking a step back. "No. You're one very strange …" She trailed off, and felt hot as she considered something she was not ready to confirm herself. "You are a man, right?"
That made him laugh outright. The sound was so normal, so young, so human, that it almost startled Rey. "I'm not like any man you've met … but yes. I am a man."
For the first time that evening, Rey smiled, just a little. "I rest my case: you're a strange one."
"I acknowledge that." When she did not reply, he asked, "Is there anything else you want to talk about? If not, you should get some sleep."
Rey still had a thousand questions; but she was tired, and she already had much to think about. So she answered, "I think I'd like to sleep … in my own room."
"I'll leave you then." Ben stepped forward, close to her again. "May I …" He hesitated. "Could you hold out your hand?"
Rey obliged. He found her hand in the darkness, and for a moment both of his hands—now ungloved—folded gently around hers, as though handling something delicate. Then one of his hands left hers, and a moment later she felt it touch her shoulder. Rey stayed still, paralyzed by the knowledge that he was so close when she could not see him.
His voice came from just inches away. "I hope you'll be happy here, Rey. If there's anything that you want, just name it, and it will be done."
"Thank you." As she said those words, she realized she probably ought to have said them much sooner, perhaps first thing. She tried to find something diplomatic to say, to explain herself. "I hope—I don't mean to sound ungrateful. This has been a lot to take in. I … appreciate your kindness. You've been more than generous. I'm just not used to that from other people."
"Oh, Rey …" He lifted his hand from her shoulder, and then he was touching her face, her hair, more tenderly than she had ever known. She felt his breath on her face as he leaned forward. "You may not believe me yet … but do I love you." He squeezed her hand as he spoke those words. "If you don't feel the same for me … well, I can still hope. Until then, I only ask for your trust. Can you give me that much?"
Rey swallowed, and nodded under his touch. "Okay."
His hand encompassed nearly half of her head, his thumb stroking her cheek; then she felt his lips press firmly against her forehead. They remained there for several seconds, warm and soft. When he pulled away he whispered, "Good night, Rey." Then he let go of her, and she heard his footsteps as he retreated to his bedroom.
The moment the door sealed shut behind him, the lights came on in the sitting room. Rey had to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness, and she immediately sank onto the sofa, letting out her breath in surprise. She suddenly felt exhausted, releasing all the tension she had been holding.
What in the universe? Of all the things she could have imagined happening this night, what had actually happened was the last she had expected.
Not wanting to stay in that room, she retreated to the small bedroom that was now hers. Before stepping inside, she cast a glance back at the door to the master bedroom, and the door to Ben's solitary bedroom.
She felt almost conflicted, though she could not have said why.
It couldn't be disappointment that she felt. In fact, she ought to have been relieved. But she was not sure whether she liked that she now had an indefinite amount of time before what she had been steeling herself for.
She felt safe, she supposed … but she had not expected to spend another night alone. She had thought that her loneliness would leave her, for better or for worse.
For a moment she wondered, wildly, perhaps deliriously, if she should knock on his door and ask him to join her in the huge bed. But what if he said no? Or—what if he agreed?
Rey groaned at her own ridiculousness, and pushed those thoughts out of her mind as she stepped away and let the door to her room slide shut. She would have plenty of time to sort out what she wanted—after all, she would have no work or company to distract her while the master of the house was away.
In the bureau, she found some soft, loose garments that seemed to be intended for sleeping. Even the simplest nightgown seemed like an elegant luxury. But as she held it up to her body, seeing how perfectly it fit, she finally dared to think of it, and the other clothes and gifts, as her own.
As she got comfortable in the bed, with its soft mattress, thick blankets, and numerous pillows, Rey thought about what she might do tomorrow, which of the many rooms she might visit, which facilities she would use. For the first time that she could remember, she did not need to worry about what she would eat or wear, because everything would be provided for her. As she rolled onto her side, she decided that as long as she was there, she might as well enjoy it as much as she could.
When Kylo Ren considered how everything had transpired so far, he concluded that although things could have gone better, they also could have been far worse.
He had not planned to tell Rey his old name, the one the mortals had forgotten; but she ought to have some way to address him, especially if she ever needed to call on him when they were apart.
He was relieved and satisfied that his most important priorities had been accomplished: Rey was in his custody, safe and well provided for. And she had come willingly, which avoided much unnecessary distress.
She was even willing to be with him physically, much sooner than might have been expected. What he had not expected was her attitude about it. From what he knew of human nature, it would have been quite normal for her to be shy or reluctant, and need to be coaxed and reassured. He had not imagined that she would be resigned to it and brace herself to endure it, like a painful but necessary medical procedure, hoping it would be over as quickly as possible.
It had been a strange moment for Kylo Ren, having his greatest desire within reach. He could have done as he pleased with the girl, and she would not have resisted.
He had realized, at that moment, that he would not be satisfied with her merely tolerating him. The thought of her keeping her mind and heart detached from her body—no. That would not do at all. He would not accept part of her without the rest. He wanted her heart as well as her body. She had to love him, or at least be willing to accept his love, before they were united. He wanted her to understand the depth and sincerity of his feelings for her. He would make her feel treasured, like the precious, unrepeatable person she was.
Using his darts was not an option, since that would have necessitated her seeing him. He did plan to tell her who he was eventually, but only after he had won her trust and proved his earnestness.
He could wait, whether it took a day, a month, a year. Immortal lifespans taught deities to be patient as time passed.
The only possible complication with regard to that was the fact that Rey would age more rapidly than him, unless he successfully made her a goddess. He still needed to figure that out. He was reluctant to consider the option of seeking help from his estranged relatives, but if it came to that, he thought they would be more willing to lend their aid if she had already become a member of their family.
And there was the matter of his master—Kylo Ren was careful not to think of him by name. His master wanted to witness, or at least hear of, the results of his plot against the idolized mortal. Kylo Ren had had to mollify him with the assurance that it would be carried out, but only in a situation where she was out of their sight. He had to be very careful, since his master could sense his thoughts and feelings. Deceiving him was no small task, which meant it would help to be as truthful as possible.
His master had been pleased to hear about the public spectacle that had been made of Rey's departure, and that she was now isolated with no one but a monster to love her. He just needed to deliver the news that she had fallen in love with and united herself to that monster. His master would sense that it was the truth. He need never know that Kylo Ren was that very monster.
Kylo Ren had chosen this place for their home because, in addition to being remote and isolated, it suited Rey perfectly. He was sure she would be happy here, with or without his company. He hoped that once she was used to her new home, she would be better able to get used to him.
The Skywalker family had given up their use of the estate ever since his betrayal, since they knew he had access to it, and because it brought back memories that were now painful for them to dwell on.
Deep down, Kylo Ren was a little uneasy about how similar his situation was to his grandparents' experience in this very place. But he was determined that history would not repeat itself. He would prove his love for Rey, and, in so doing, earn her love in return. And if she let him, he would save her from suffering and death, and give her eternal life.
Author's Note: Thank you for your patience between updates! This chapter was very challenging in terms of keeping them in character and making the conversation flow. Any feedback would be very much appreciated!
