Chapter Seventeen: Murky

Rey had stopped trying to comprehend the inner workings of her captor. Kylo Ren had gone a step further after his mask, removing her bonds and leaving both trappings aboard the ship. Seeing his face for the first time since Starkiller Base was like a piece of flotsam from her dream, except that it bore a simpering smugness it hadn't had earlier. Objectively, he might have been handsome, but between her loathing and fear, all she saw were hard lines and disturbing intensity. Years of polarizing restraint and abandon had left deep shadows hooding his eyes. The struggle had hollowed his cheeks and given his mouth a lingering sullenness, even in its confident upturn.

Rey roamed his features, careful to keep her thoughts quiet. Why now? She didn't meet his gaze as they began crunching through the snow. No mask or cuffs will make me trust you? Do you think I'll forget I'm a prisoner against my will? One who's punished whenever I make you mad?

She couldn't tell whether to be annoyed at how severely he underestimated her, or relieved at how unsophisticated his logic was.

Kylo Ren is no master manipulator, she reasoned. I'll be able to escape as long as I keep him distracted.

Rey turned their handful of exchanges over in her head, finally gleaning his pattern.

Lurk. Bait. Fume. Threaten. Withdraw. Repeat.

Physical harm was occasionally sprinkled in as well, just for fun

So, he wants to be my teacher? Why? To give up Skywalker and forsake the whispers? Rey bit her lip. That didn't explain much. He could have just brought her to this 'Snoke' figure, and had the information tortured out of her there. Why would he need to hide her away? Was he running too?

Rey rubbed her freed wrists, betraying none of her suspicions as she snuck another glance over. An icy gust barreled down, tousling Kylo Ren's cape and hair, and he raked back the upended locks without breaking stride. The act had a reflexive, practiced air; an echo from a lifetime managing unruly hair without a helmet. From a time before kidnapping and subjugation were his norm.

The gale was a shock to her own system, and Rey focused on her discomfort, stuffing her hands under her arms to keep them warm. If he doesn't care about the cold, neither do I, she vowed.

The ship disappeared into darkness as they journeyed toward their mysterious destination. Kylo Ren switched on a light at his wrist and paused to survey the boundless planes of windswept snow around them. When he resumed walking, Rey noticed he was checking his gait. He could have easily out-paced her—the man was a lumbering giant—but he kept his speed in step with hers.

To an observer, they walked like they were a unit with a joint plan, and Rey wrinkled her nose as a new theory struck her. Was he thinking they would run away… together? That he would somehow convert her with his infantile temper and constant intimidation? That she would stand beside him and help him track down Master Skywalker? Hadn't he said as much in the med-bay when she'd called forth the frenzy? Rey recoiled, jerking to a halt.

Kylo Ren wasn't as lost in self-congratulation as she assumed. He immediately stopped and looked over. "What is it?"

It was disconcerting seeing his face, she realized. He wore none of the cold indifference of her interrogation. Thoughts and emotions changed his features just like anyone else's, and his eyebrows rose with his question.

Rey worked not to stare. "Nothing," she mumbled. "I'm freezing."

He turned more fully to her, gauging her answer. "And?" He asked expectantly.

Rey scowled. She didn't owe him anything. She shouldn't have to explain why being a hostage in mortal peril made her upset. "Because you're my enemy, and I don't want to go anywhere with you," she snapped. "Stop walking next to me." Hugging her hands tighter around herself, she tramped forward, kicking up a snow heave unfortunate enough to be in her path.

She knew Kylo Ren didn't have to use his words to gain clarity. She waited for him to dive into her mind, readying herself to fight him off.

"I could leave you out here in the elements," he called, jogging to catch up.

Rey heard his boots in the snow, but felt no incursion. "Please do," she muttered.

He sidled up next to her, cheeks and nose red from the temperature, and stared shrewdly. "Anger comes easily to you," he noted. "Like it does—."

Rey balked. "I'm nothing like you," she cut in. "Stop talking to me."

The ripples in the air wavered and shook, and she felt his irritation like a dropped stone, oscillating out among the Force. A moment later, his hand followed, circling her upper-arm. He pulled roughly, jarring her fingers from their clamped roost and rushing chill to her side. Her vision filled with the black of his uniform, replacing the planet's murky night, and his warm breath hit her ear as he leaned down.

"You wear my patience." His voice was different without his modulator—thick and gruff, full of agitation. "What did I say about your commentary?"

Rey didn't meet his eye, staring at the high, starched collar obscuring his throat instead. Why was she cataloguing these details? Would any help her escape? "Let go of me," she insisted.

"Or what?"

She could feel the ripples swirl and seek her out, waiting for her anger. "Or you'll regret it," she warned.

Anticipation lit his gaze. Kylo Ren dug his fingers deeper, daring her to prove it.

Rey tried pushing herself free, pitching her weight into his stomach. He was nothing but a steadfast wall, and he snatched her free arm as she rebounded, trapping her further.

"I'll walk where I want," he stated, turning his wrist so the light shone into her face. "Your preferences don't matter."

Rey ducked her head. "Yet I was pressured into sharing them anyway," she returned, rebelling against his hold.

His only response was to squeeze tighter.

She winced. "Ow," she managed. "Subtle."

"Like you," he accused. "Flouncing around like a put-out martyr."

Rey glared from the corner of her eye, avoiding the light. "I wonder what stressor brings that out," she flung, unable to control her tongue. The man who could suffocate her with one finger could probably break her forearms with a twitch, but her resentment was getting away from her, spreading out along the traitorous eddies of Force.

Kylo Ren must have felt it, because he scoffed. "I've earned a bigger reaction for treading beside you than any earlier transgressions," he asserted, still studying her. Concentration crimped the space between his eyes, like she was a puzzle to solve and discard, before certitude smoothed it. "Does my proximity make you uncomfortable?" He taunted.

Before she could respond, his mouth pulled back in derision, making the smugness return and fill every haunted shadow in his face. "Perhaps my mask was for your benefit after all," he posed. Releasing her right arm, he swept his hand through his hair again, pausing purposefully this time.

Rey's brain sputtered, tripping over his insinuation. "I'm… uncomfortable…," she seethed. "Because killing me is on your to-do list."

"Yes," Kylo Ren mocked. "Walking close is evidence of such."

Furious, Rey opened both hands, shoving them to his chest. "You've given PLENTY of evidence!" She fumed. "Let GO!" The Force surged to her, hot and hungry, and vindication smoothed his features.

"Told you," he said, freeing her and stepping back. "We're the same." With a snap in her direction, he dissipated her collected energy, scattering it harmlessly away. "Except I'm not a vacuous, unschooled pretender who turns their nose up at the chance to learn."

Rey still felt the lingering tingle of the Force. She let another passing squall cool her ire, inhaling deeply. The air hurt her lungs, and she hugged herself once more. "Of course," she grumbled, turning away. "How dare I not see my capture for the opportunity it is."

Kylo Ren allowed her the dismissal with a mere frown—no threats, no chokeholds—and she wondered if he was ever able to toe reality enough to see how woefully out-of-touch he was. They resumed walking, and Rey left him to his thoughts, hoping they somehow held a hint of awareness.