The area was quite and desolate, a small draft of air flowed through in through the chimney and underneath the doorway. The only sounds that could be heard were the awaking servant slaves from two floors below, preparing themselves for another day of forced labor, and the guards on all three levels of the building scurrying around on patrol. Normally, no ordinary person would be able to hear all these subtle noises, but Rey could; due t spending her entire life in the underground with poor lighting and limited smells other than earth, stone, and blood, Rey's hearing had been enhanced beyond normal restraints. The large rooms also provided an echo that practically shouted these sounds through the stone and metal walls. Though Rey was pretty sure most likely everyone here had accelerated hearing, since she was guessing none of the slaves ever left either.

But it was thanks to this ability that she was able to hear when it was time to end her project and either pretend to be sleeping, or go back to sleep. Rey's internal clock refused to let her sleep in past dawn, and over the weeks she found herself training less and less in the morning after waking up; training with Phasma or Kylo was more enough for her to handle each day.

With the announcement of the others waking up, Rey took that as her cue to hide her project and relax or sleep in her bed.

Looking down at the make shift rope she saw that barely any progress was made that night. Maybe two or four inches were cut. Pathetic for the amount of hours she spent on it. Rey couldn't help it though; tonight she kept finding herself distracted with thoughts of yesterday… and today. Yesterday was her last session with Kylo before she was sent back out into the ring after two weeks of being outside of it. Rey hadn't even seen this building's ring before; she's only ever been in three rooms: her room, the training room, the bathroom. Kylo's room would technically make it four, but she hadn't been in there long, and that was against her will.

A spark went through her gut when she thought about waking up in his bed, covered in his velvet blankets. Rey quickly shook that image out of existence, a small feeling of disgust replacing it.

These were the thoughts that prevented Rey from getting any work done last night. No matter what she did her thoughts kept trailing back to the man who caused her many grievances. Oh how she loathed him, everything he stood for, his mentality. Yet, she could help but find some twisted solace in him as well. While there may be other slaves around her, they could never understand her like he could. But at the same time Rey doesn't want him to understand her. He acts as if he's the teacher and she's the students in everything including and outside of fighting, as if he had all the answers for her heartache. Rey doesn't want those answers, not from someone so broken. But, then again, she too is broken.

Rey felt hatred for this man, but something else was beginning to rise up as well. Compassion. She attempted to throw it away, but she found that she could not entirely. Her only hope was that she could escape this inner fight by running away and getting out of her.

Fight.

That was the other subject that plagued her mind. She would have to fight today in the evening, she would once again be shoved into an arena with some poor luckless soul and set to either kill or be killed. This was standard practice for her by now; even so, she despised each and every fight. Rey would rather set the building ablaze and destroy those above her, taking herself with them.

Rey barely caught herself from her destructive thoughts, pulling herself back from her mind and returning to her, too, soft bed. Some nights the bed was pleasant, other days it wasn't. The marshmallow feeling was difficult to get used to after so many years of sleeping on a mat on the stone ground. Thus sometimes her bed proved to be more of a nuisance that a comfort.

Just as she had expected, she couldn't sleep, lying down with her eyes wide open staring up at the bed's over hanger. Settling down to listen to the kitchens being woken and worked, Rey desperately wished she could have been a servant slave. That is what she was originally, just a servant for the visitors and Plutt, even after she was chosen to be a fighter. Those days were the simple ones; if they could even be considered 'simple'. She loathed her work back then and hated the tireless hours and sore muscles and blisters, but none of that compared to what being a fighter forced her to be. Rey had lost count of how many times she had come close to losing her life in the ring. She lost count of how many bruises she had received. She had lost count of the broken bones, the cuts, the concussions. And most importantly, she had lost count of the blood that had stained her hands.

Young, old; meek, bold; new, experienced; man, woman; the list went on beyond what she cared to think about.

The thing about wounds is that they heal and no trace is left besides maybe a small scar. Stains, however, may wash away, but their mark will never leave her. She's too dirty.

Rey closed her eyes tight, she couldn't do this now, the anxiety of today was becoming too much to bear. Taking her pillow, Rey covered her mouth and nose with it, not letting up even when her lungs screamed in red pain. Five minutes passed until she was able to pass out, effectively sending her into a forced sleep. But her nightmares proved to be much worse.

Rey was shaken awake hours later, maybe two hours later depending on the shifting of the sunrays spilling into her room. Prying her eyes open, slightly grateful that she was pulled out of her horrid dream that she chose not to remember, and saw Mashra standing at the side of her bed.

"My Lady, I was sent to deliver your breakfast then escort you to the gym before your match." The older slave told her and took a step back to allow Rey to get up and out of bed.

"Okay…" Rey mumbled quietly, walking over to the usual table. Normally Rey would make sure to hold a longer conversation Mashra, as she was one of the few people that Rey was able to be around, but she couldn't today. She was much too anxious to socialize with her. Mashra seemed to sense this and didn't try to force conversation either, seeming happy to stay quiet as well.

Breakfast went slower than usual, even though there was no talking; everything just seemed to move at a snail's pace. It would take a couple minutes for Rey to finish three bites, not indulging in the tasteful food like she typically would. Instead the food tasted strangely bitter and flavorless on her sad tongue. She despised every bite, but forced it down knowing that she would need the strength.

Eventually Rey forced down her final bite, Mashra had finished hers a while ago, and stood to get ready. Currently dressed in a nightgown, Rey needed to find something lose and fitting to fight in, usually training in a simple white top with black shorts, her breast bound with bandages.

"Lady Rey, I was also sent to deliver your outfit to you." Mashra announced as she pulled out a small outfit from the bottom of the cart, handing them over to Rey. "You are required to wear them."

"Why? Did Kylo pick them out?"

"No, Master Snoke did."

Surprise rang through Rey at hearing that her Master, whom she's never talked to before, had sent her a fighting outfit. Before now Snoke had always just been a figure in the shadows. Someone she's been told about, but never confronted personally, ignoring the time Plutt bragged about her to him in the dining hall.

Walking over to the right corner of the room, where a changing screen was, Rey slipped out of her nightgown, and put on her new clothes. After she was done she looked at her reflection in a mirror, unsure whether to be impressed or crept out. It was Roman gladiator inspired, a small skirt that failed to reach her mid-thigh with shorts connected underneath. Her top was skin tight, but still allowed room to breathe and move, going over one shoulder leaving the other bare. Cloth and leather braces were provided that went on both arms from her wrists to her elbows, and her legs from her ankles to her knees. Rey acquired help from Mashra to tie the strings of the leather on her braces to secure them in place. The final touch was four pieces of cloth that she then wrapped around her fists and soles of her feet.

Overall, Rey looked like an ancient female warrior from her old picture book fairy tales. Simply she looked badass and she couldn't help but ogle how cool she looked. Though at the same time, she looked like a perfect doll, dressed up and given a status she didn't desire. The awe of her appearance quickly flew away and she wanted nothing more than to rip it all off and fight in her usual poor attire. She now looked like the pampered slave she had always loathed. Rey wanted to spit at herself.

"You look very elegant, My Lady." Mashra told her from behind, looking at Rey's reflection as well. Rey grimaced at her words, hating the word used to describe her appearance.

"No." Rey muttered. "I look like a killer."

Turning for the door, Rey went out and headed for the gym to prepare, Slip and Mashra trailing behind her silently.

Kylo was already there when she arrived, dressed similarly to her, but with shorts and in all black, contrary to her light grey and brown. He was currently doing a plank, so Rey decided to join him, but off to the side. She said nothing as she got down and lifted up her body, carried by only her arms and feet. Planks were a good way to start a warm up because they worked and heated up the muscles, making them easier to stretch.

Kylo must have not noticed her because he said nothing as they both did their planks. After a minute or so Rey began to feel a burn in her muscles, meaning she should move on to not tire herself out completely. However Kylo showed no signs of fatigue despite having been doing the plank longer than her. Stubbornness and will to not be shown up kept he from stopping, and after five minutes she began panting in stress.

"If you're tired you should stop." Kylo told her without looking up, his breath slightly labored, and showing that he too was becoming tired.

"Speak for yourself." Rey snapped back with a heavy gasp.

Rival fighters began to file in, all looking puzzled at, but avoiding the two fighters on the ground in their strange battle.

Rey was really straining herself now, panting hard as her body shook in exhaustion. Kylo's breath was heavy, but he wasn't panting, probably able to go on for much longer. Rey didn't think she could go another minute, but didn't want to throw in the towel just yet either. Right before she was about to collapse, Kylo dropped himself and sat back up, legs crossed. Letting out a victorious shout Rey let herself fall as well, rolling onto her back as she heaved heavy breaths. Both ignored the stares and glares of the others around them and focused only on each other. Strangely enough, Kylo refused to look anywhere else than her face.

"That was a foolish thing to do." Kylo scolded from above her.

"I still won didn't I?" She smirked even though she knew that wasn't the case. Kylo easily could have out lasted her, yet chose to stop early for some reason.

"So childish." Kylo rolled his eyes, though she could see humor in them, and stood from his spot. "Go and catch your breath on the side." He ordered her as he walked over to the weights.

Sitting up as well, Rey watched him go, wrenching her eyes away to go catch a breather and get a drink from the indoor water fountain in the corner, an absolute luxury that she never had before here. Once she rehydrated herself she allowed her body to relax for about two or three minutes before getting back up. Her body was still a little tired, but not as bad as before.

Positioning herself in the corner few feet from the wall, she began with stretches, one of her greatest advantages in the arena was her flexibility, which had saved her from troubling holds and enable her to dodge in unusual ways time after time. First Rey began with touching her toes, then the windmill, and then bended backwards and placed her hands on the ground behind her. Kicking her legs up, she did a summersault backwards and immediately went into a split. Swinging her legs around, she practiced her leg swipe before pushing herself back up onto her feet. Bringing her body down again, Rey preformed a handstand, her skirt falling down to reveal her shorts underneath; she then did push-ups like that, body in the air. If Rey wasn't so tired she could probably to one handed push-ups, she had to make sure she regained her stamina before her match.

"Rey." Kylo's cold and slightly forceful voice sounded besides her. Rey stopped and looked up over at the taller fighter. "Enough stretches, you need to practice your defense."

"My defense is fine." She argued, but let herself down nonetheless. By the time she stood up straight she barely had enough time to jump out of the way of Kylo's fist barreling for her face. "Seriously, what the kriff?" She shouted at him as he continued to attack her.

"You've gotten faster." He noted in a blank voice before he swung out a leg, catching her foot and bringing her down. "But your foot work is sloppy."

Rey stood again and, just as in their daily training, he gave her no time or warning before he attacked again. This time Rey was more aware of his movements, and more firm with hers. He tested everything, her reaction speed, her dodging, her counter attacks, and her offense, and stamina. Just as it always seemed to, the world fell away, leaving only them in their brutal dance. By now Rey was used to this feeling, like it was only the two of them in an eternal, empty void. It gave her a sense of ease and uneasiness at the same time. She felt them conflict, yet unite there. As if they were a dichotomy, forever linked, by what she didn't know; nor did she care to discover its origin.

Soon the fighters' pre-fight warm-up came to a conclusion and the fighters were sent into separate waiting rooms, so they wouldn't threaten or hurt each other before the match. Rey and Kylo were sent to the same room, since they wouldn't be fighting each other, and had the others' fights screened up for them on a hologram. Neither of them wanted to watch it though, and resolved to sit in separate parts of the room, no words exchanged. That was fine by her; she wouldn't know what to say.

Rey was positive that if she was in this same situation two weeks ago that she wouldn't hesitate to try and assassinate Kylo at that very moment. Yet she felt no such desire now. Rey no longer loathed this man, but she still had distaste for him. If he were to die she would probably only bat an eye, but she no longer desired to be his killer. She was compassionate or dispassionate towards him. If she were to give it a label she'd have to say that she was simply curious, but she didn't want that curiosity to land her into danger, so she shoved it down and ignored him.

He was only there to critique her fighting abilities; that was it.

A servant she had never seen before walked in and announced that her fight was next. The silence of the room became even deader, if that was even possible. No words were exchanged, they didn't even look at each other as she stood and walked towards the door. The sound of it slowly closing was like a bomb going off to her. Her eyes were nailed to ground as she was lead down the hall by the servant and two guards. A large metal, cage door stood before her, through it she could see a large stadium like room in front of her, seats stacked high with pompous spectators, and in the center of it all was a large caged arena. Rey was lead up, excited voices shouting her name like always, with a few boos thrown in as well. From the opposite side of her a man only an inch taller was lead in.

He was young, maybe around her age; wasn't too muscularly, nor was he too lean, most likely relied on tactic and stamina accompanied by powerful jabs. This meant that Rey would have to find a quick way to end the fight or it could go on for a while.

Oddly enough, the wondering thought of if Kylo was watching passed through her head. Rey let it pass and focused all of her attention on the nameless man before her.

The countdown was started, Rey offered a polite fist bump, and he took it. They circled each other until the countdown ended, and even after they still made no move. Rey could tell he preferred to counterattack, which is exactly her preference as well. This fight would be close indeed.

Rey decided to strike first, attempting a throat punch; he dodged and went for the gut. Rey maneuvered herself in a twist and managed to wrap an arm around his throat and wrap her body around his back. The man tried to knock her off, but failed. Aiming a pointed elbow into her right side he delivered numerous painful hits until Rey loosened her grip just enough to rip her arms off his neck. Her legs were still wrapped around his stomach however, so did her best to restrain her from getting up as she fought to restrain his arms.

The man then surprised her by shifting the position on her so he was on top facing her. Wrapping his hands around her neck he turned the tables and suffocated her. But he made a mistake by not restraining her legs. Taking full advantage of her flexibility, Rey brought her legs up on either side of his head and pushed it at an unholy angle. He stopped chocking her to spread her legs apart to release his head from their grip. Rey used this chance to push herself up and slam her head into his chin. He fell back with a thud and she was on top in a second and a half. Rey made sure to restrain his legs but wasn't able to restrain his arms before he sent a fist into her shoulder, dislocating it.

'Shit!' Rey cursed in her head as she got up on her feet the same time he did. Now she really needed to end it fast. The man threw three quick jabs towards her head, the last one of which she managed to catch his wrist. Just as Kylo had taught her she pulled him towards her and aimed a knee into his gut, hastily followed by an elbow to the back of his head. He wasn't quite out yet though, so holding him down, Rey sent a fist into his temple, causing the nameless slave to black out.

Hysteric cheers belted out around her from the rich spectators in their thrones. Rey slowly backed away, her breathing labored and strenuous. The door to the caged arena opened and a servant, also whom she's never seen, walked up to her; offering a blaster. It was well known by anyone who's heard her name that her favorite form of execution is death by blaster. But now, being face to face with a blaster once again, a newer white model, served only to give her terror.

Fraught with anxiety Rey went through a long train of thoughts that seemed to last a lifetime in her head, but only lasted four seconds in reality. She considered letting the man go back to his master; but the lashes on his back prevented her from doing so. Rey considered asking Snoke if she can take him in, like Kylo did with her, but then found the fault in that solution; she was too new to request such a thing from Snoke, it'd probably only result in her own punishment. Then Rey thought about killing him, like she had with all the rest.

Was it truly noble like she had once thought? What if this man had loved ones who were also enslaved who were praying that he came back alive? She'd be robbing them of this man whom they love. What if this man didn't want to die? It'd be murder to rob him of his life if he still wanted to keep it. Could Rey really be able to pull the trigger on a man she knew nothing about, who could family or friends waiting for him?

Rey panicked inside as she lifted up the blaster into her grasp, feeling like lead in her palm. The cried around her were morphed in her head, turning from cheers of encouragement to screams of terror. Each step she took towards the man brought her further into the ground, signifying her own demise along with his.

She pointed the gun.

Nothing had stopped her before. She used to fire without a blink until now. Yet, at this moment, Rey felt as if she was holding the gun to her own head, not someone else's. If Kylo was here he'd be able to do it without sweating or looking back at his deed. Rey used to be like that, yet she had called him a monster. Never before had Rey ever felt more like a beast. How could she possibly take a life away?

She pulled the trigger.

Like that.

Everything moved in slow motion as she dropped the gun, was guided out of the ring and led back to her waiting room. Her vision became tunneled, and her hearing was muffled. She felt disoriented, lost, confused, and dead. Had she shot herself? Rey couldn't tell if she was even alive or not. She wanted to scream, but didn't. She wanted to vomit, but didn't. She wanted to die, but didn't.

Rey vaguely noticed the door close behind her as she walked into the waiting room, and barely recognized the change of scenery from the arena. Her legs, cold and numb, gave up on her and she collapsed to her knees. She felt tears form, but didn't register that she was sobbing. How long had she been crying for?

Her body shook when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't need to look up to know who it was besides her. Rey didn't care that she was leaning into him and was more than pleased when she felt him perform the same move he had after their fight weeks ago, back when she still loathed him. Kylo's hand moved purposefully to the nerves on her neck, causing her body to numb until she couldn't feel anything. Rey lost consciousness like she prayed she would and was, for the first time in a long time, met with calm dreams. Of what, she couldn't remember.

.

.

.

Well friends I just couldn't stay away. Took three days but I was able to write another chapter in my free time. Am I becoming overly dark? I'll put a trigger warning if it's necessary. Don't have much to say... so yeah.

I'm thinking about posting this story on either or both AO3 and Wattpad, i'd that something you'd like me to do?

Favorite, Follow, Review~