Chapter Sixteen: Lies

She was to be his pupil. Yes. That was it. He wanted only to pry her from the Light, making up for his blunder in leaving the BB-unit on Takodana. When he was sure she'd be a credit to his name and not a disgrace, he would present her to Snoke as a fitting tribute. No throne need be usurped.

Having settled on his reason for keeping Rey alive—one easily assessed at least—Kylo led her from the ship in a forceful drag, hurrying her past the precautions he'd put in place. They descended the shuttle's ramp together, and she went almost willingly, save for an occasional yank where she tested the strength of the durasteel cuffs circling her wrists.

Stepping into a cold night filled with frost, Kylo immediately remembered why he'd disliked his original stay on Rakata Prime. It was an icy, wintry world – not as harsh as his parents' nostalgia-seeped Hoth, but in the same dismally-bleak, snow-strewn scale.

Rey shivered, watching with wide eyes as her exhales left her lips in white clouds. She moved to touch one as it disappeared, seeming to forget his immobilizing hold.

She scowled as she met resistance. "You haven't thought this out at all," she muttered, staring as the statement made thick, round puffs between them. "Are you going to keep me in shackles forever?"

"Are you going to admit you need a teacher?" Kylo returned. "That power you feel—those whispers—they were quiet for a long time, weren't they? They'll grow louder. Stronger. You need someone to show you how to conquer their din."

Rey huffed, and he wondered if it was to articulate disbelief, or just to make another cloud. He supposed the dune-filled expanse of Jakku rarely had such atmospheric conditions. How small her world had been; how big he could make it.

"There is already great conflict in you," Kylo pressed. "I can help you still its churn."

"Through the dark side?" She tested the phrase, sounding uncertain.

This woman knew nothing. Nothing. She would succumb swiftly, serving up all she knew of Skywalker and joining his Knights without reserve.

"Your choice will be your own," he lied, releasing her arms. "It's why I've brought you here, free from all influence."

Rey raised an eyebrow. "Except yours."

From within his mask, Kylo hiked his own. He was underestimating her again. "Mine isn't so bad," he supplied, trying to lace his words with rarely-used charm.

Such artifice may have worked for others of the Solo-line, but Rey wasn't convinced. "Except that it comes with choking off my airway, daily threats, and wanting to bury me under multiple tons of metal," she countered.

Kylo frowned. "Threats I haven't carried to completion," he reminded, realizing he had erred. This one responded to patient coaxing, not bludgeoning dominance.

Rey's gaze drifted down his monochrome attire. "A man who hides what his face betrays doesn't sound like an expert on mastering conflict to me."

Her insight took a moment to matriculate, and shock once more superseded his rage. Stepping back, he lifted his hands to his helmet, opened its seal and removed it with a duck of his head.

Rey gaped at the gesture, and Kylo suppressed a satisfied smirk as he looked at her without his mask's visor.

Yes. Wile was the way to turn her.