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Certain Dark Things

Chapter Text



She’d never seen so much water in her life.  


Enough to fill the many ornate fountains on the palace grounds. Enough to pour out onto the ground for the flowers and fruit trees. Enough to swim in, even. Such a waste. A decadent miracle of plenty for a girl who never had enough.


“Are you ready, milady?”


She turned from the window to see the kind face of Arden, her aged handmaiden. Her sweet, wrinkled face was smiling, but the brown eyes she had come to know in the last few months couldn’t hide the sadness. A lump formed in Rey’s throat. Saying goodbye to Arden hurt her the worst.


She smoothed down the front of her silver-spun gown, but snapped her hands away quickly, afraid she had ruined the fabric with sand or grease. She stared down at her hands in a force of habit. They were clean now. The nails groomed, calluses softening from sweet-smelling lotion, jeweled rings glittering on her fingers. Even after weeks of endless meals, dress fittings and lessons on court etiquette, it still didn’t feel real.  


Rey with no last name.

Scavenger of Jakku.  

Sand rat.  


You never realize who you are until you aren’t that person anymore. She was a lady, now. Her responsibility was to her House.


“The transport is waiting, dear,” Arden said gently.


Rey managed a smile and she twisted her hands into a knot at her waist. Arden escorted her to the First Order transport and gave her one final, tight embrace as Rey squeezed her eyes shut to capture the tears.


“Be well, Freyah,” Arden whispered, “Never forget who you are.” She released her with a kiss to the temple.


It was time to go. Her groom was waiting.



In the end, she was right.  Her family had come back for her.


The court messengers found her outside of Plutt’s. A simple prick of blood from her finger proved she was Ryoo Freyah Naberrie, the lost daughter of Sola Naberrie and Kolan Nazith, of a noble House. Her parents were murdered by insurgents while on a trade mission and young Freyah– Rey – had been stolen and sold on Jakku. 


Her true home was on Naboo. Her Aunt Pooja Naberrie was desperate to have her home again. This was her happy ending.  


She was welcomed with open arms and kisses. After several months of learning customs and traditions, she had her society debut. There were many noble suitors thrilled by the prospect of marrying a newly-discovered Naberrie bride. Rey would have her pick and plenty of time to decide.


To everyone’s shock, a dictate arrived from the Supreme Leader. Lady Freyah would wed a groom of his choosing, his apprentice. The union would ensure the prosperity and safety of her planet.


Her duty was clear. There was no saying no.



The transport brought her to the Finalizer, and Rey was led to her chambers.


There were no luxuries like the palace of Naboo. Black durasteel, chrome fixtures, sleek and efficient. Barren.


Rey walked through her suite, fingertips skipping along the lines of hard steel. Cold, so cold. She shuddered, already missing the sun.


When she entered the bedroom, she stopped. Her lips parted in delight.


On a table sat a large vase overflowing with deep crimson flowers. Plom blooms, she thought. Rey had heard of them, but had seen so few living flowers in her young life. They poured from their container and onto the table, a vivid splash of dark red against the black.


She bent over to touch a velvet petal between her fingers and then lower her face into the blossoms. So rich and sweet, so soft. Her eyes closed in pleasure.


“Do you like them?” A deep, distorted voice asked from behind her.


Rey gasped and straightened. A tall figure blocked the hallway, his shadow drowning her in darkness. She could only make the outline of wide shoulders and a tall frame. Her stomach twisted almost painfully with the onset of nerves.


He stepped into the room and darkness followed. A cape, she realized, and when he approached even closer, the faint bedroom light reflected off the black and silver metal of his mask.


Rey recoiled involuntarily as her heart skittered. “Yes. Th-thank you, they’re lovely, Lord Ren.”


He nodded once, silently. His mask dipped as his gaze poured down her body. What type of creature required a mask? She tried not to think of what lay underneath. 


Spine gone rigid, she kept her gaze on the blooms as she waited for him to speak again. Their sweet perfume filled the air of the small room. Her breath was so shallow that the fragrance became overwhelming. Oppressive. Her chest was way too tight.


“I’m glad you like them. Do you require anything?”


“No, sir. Thank you.”


He expelled a deep breath through the modulator. She tried hard not to shudder.


“The ceremony will be after dinner.”


“Tonight?!” The word flew from her lips without thinking. Her gaze snapped to his mask, but it gave nothing away. A blank cipher, inhuman. The fear rose and clutched at her throat, and she looked away from him again.


It was too soon. Rey was still reeling from leaving her new home, she was not prepared yet to serve her duty as wife. All she needed was time, yet it seemed she wouldn’t be granted even that.


“The Supreme Leader sees no reason to wait.” Lord Ren took a step closer. He loomed large in her periphery, like an ominous cloud.

“You would make a lovely prize or ransom if left unclaimed, and we wouldn’t want to lose you so soon after acquiring you.”


Her temper flared to life. She was no one’s possession but her own. It was her own choice to fulfill her obligations to her House, she was no one’s chattel. 

“How flattering that the Supreme Leader thinks I’m desirable enough to be a temptation,” she said. If anyone knew her well enough, they would hear the bitterness of her tone. But it was only him, her intended. A stranger.


Lord Ren’s cloak rustled as he moved beside her. She lifted her chin and kept her eyes on a plom blossom as he lifted a single gloved finger to her cheek. He stroked softly from her temple to jaw, the smooth, warm leather a strange sensation. She forced herself to hold still and not jerk away.


His voice was deep and rough through the mask. “A temptation, to be sure. And I’m afraid I’m quite unwilling to share.”


Rey said nothing. Lord Ren turned and walked away, speaking over his shoulder.


“Prepare for the ceremony. After dinner.” Then he was gone, and she was locked away inside again.


Rey heaved a sigh and sat heavy on the bed, her shoulders slumping. The air was thick with the heady fragrance of flowers and her head was spinning. She rubbed her cheek roughly but couldn’t stop the tingling.

Chapter Text



Rey paced her chambers, waiting.


It seemed her whole life she’d been waiting. 


To her surprise, there was no formal dinner or celebration in their honor.  Only a lone droid that delivered a tray of food. She was too nervous to eat.  The dishes were strange, the scents unfamiliar, and her stomach churned. She touched none of it.


How her circumstances had changed.  She had the privilege to choose to go hungry now.


Rey showered and prepared herself as best she could.  If only she had Arden and her gentle companionship. Her lip quivered.  Perhaps it was better she was alone for this. Alone she had no tears to spare.


The time finally came.  A protocol droid returned to help her step into the silver and white ancestral gown of her House, embellished with lace and embroidery.  Generations of honor and obligation were woven into the silk, as well. The veil she pinned on herself, giving a last look in the mirror at the girl she had been for a short while.  As she followed the droid to the threshold, she hesitated.  


“Lady Naberrie?”  The droid quirked it’s head, blue eyes regarding her from an impassive chrome face.  “Is there a problem?”


“One moment,” Rey said.


Quickly she darted back to the bedroom and plucked out seven red plom blooms for luck.  She wrapped them with a hair ribbon. Bouquet in hand, she stepped into the quiet, cold halls of the ship to meet her fate.


The sharp strike of her heels against durasteel echoed off metal walls.  The droid led her to an elevator and entered a code that made them rise. As the floors flew by in quick succession, she blinked against the flashes of light.  Rey steeled herself. This was her duty. She had suffered far worse than this. A loveless marriage of convenience, that she could do for her family and her homeworld.  She must.


Ryoo Freyah Naberrie set her jaw as the elevator came to a stop.  She stepped off with her chin raised.


The first thing she noticed was that the walls were an endless pool of blood red.

The next, it was nearly empty. Her groom and the decrepit old man seated on a throne were the only in attendance save the guards. 

Finally, and with a shock, that her groom still wore the mask.


Her heart clenched and her steps slowed.  Until that moment, she didn’t realize how much she had anticipated seeing his true face before taking his name.  Only a true monster would remain hidden on his wedding day. Her disappointment was swallowed by a surge of drowning fear.


Rey fixed her gaze solely on the ground before the throne.  She took her place by his side, avoiding his gaze as he tracked her.


She cast her eyes downward and curtsied as she had been taught.


“Ahh, Lord Ren, you have done Princess Ryoo a great disservice.”  The Supreme Leader was as pale and pitted as a moon. She tried not to look at him.


From the corner of her eye, she saw her groom’s attention snap from her to the throne.


His voice was icy and formal.  “In what way, Supreme Leader?”


“You far undersold her beauty.  Holovids do not do her justice. She is far too vital and delicate, she must be seen in the flesh to be fully appreciated.”


His words prickled down her spine like needles.  She kept her eyes down. Perhaps he’d think her modest rather than repulsed.


“Yes, she is lovely.  Thank you, Supreme Leader, for the gift.”


Bile rose as they talked about her like a bottle of fine wine.  She ground her teeth and remembered her obligation. Duty. Honor.


“Come closer. Bring her to me.”


Rey looked up at him, mostly hidden under the hood.  She could make out his eyes, glowing eerie and golden with excitement.  It was rumored he had lived for hundreds of years and that his power had only grown stronger even as his body had withered.  Her instinct from years of surviving on her own nearly screamed at her to run away. 


Her groom held out a gloved hand to her, and she had no choice but to take it.


Together they made their way before the throne.  The elite guards stood flanking the sides of the room, some in red and others in black, all with their faces hidden behind masks.  If only Rey could hide hers away, too, it would make all of this easier.


The gloved hand tightened over hers, as if sensing her thoughts and fear.  Perhaps it was a sign of encouragement, or a warning. She couldn’t decipher the mystery who stood beside her.  Rey wondered briefly if Lord Ren were as unwilling as she in the arrangement.


They stopped before his feet.  The Supreme Leader smiled and held out a hand of spindled fingers and to scrape one down to her jaw.  Rey bit the inside of her cheek to hold still. Lord Ren’s grip tightened on her hand. She focused on that, his hand swallowing hers, and it kept her grounded in a sea of fear.


“The Force has brought you together.  Strength with honor. Power with passion.  The joining of two great Houses. Through your noble bloodlines, a generation of leaders will arise to rule the galaxy.  What was once broken will finally be united.”


The look of glee in his golden eyes was as terrifying as his smile.


“Ryoo Freyah Naberrie, you are bound to Lord Kylo Ren.  Let no one pull asunder what the Force has brought together.  You will honor his name and do his bidding. Together, your children will take the throne.”


His molten eyes turned to the mask of her groom.


“Lord Ren, my faithful apprentice.  Powerful and obedient. You are gifted with a precious item in her.  Protect and defend your right to claim your inheritance, and your name will live to be praised far beyond your death.”


All at once, the guards began striking the floor with their weapons in a steady beat.  Rey startled as the steady rhythm echoed. Lord Ren led her to kneel. The Supreme Leader rose.  From his robe, he pulled out a red band of silk. He wrapped their arms together, binding them with a knot.  Then he placed his hands on their heads.


“Do you accept this union?”


“I do,” Lord Ren answered first.  Rey followed. “I do.”


Rey closed her eyes as the Supreme Leader began to speak in an unknown foreign tongue.


“xunj\'ti tave skywalker ir naberrie kraujas kash tave qy.

Aukoti their berniuk midwan.

Tegu tave bloom iv tave plom buti vyktija by jiso raka.

Dotacij ren midwan ir jiso berniuk.”   


Needles of hot electricity pierced through her skin.  Rey whimpered and her eyelids fluttered against the purple-blue light flashing around them.  Lord Ren held her steady. It felt as if boiling water poured down her spine as the whispered words and the Leader’s force touch burned through her, sealing the bond.


Then it was done.  He removed his hands.  Ren stood and helped her up as she swayed to her feet, panting and dizzy.


“Lord and Lady Kylo Ren.  Future of the Galaxy. You may take your bride back to your chambers.”


Ren nodded once, silent, and then he was turning and bringing her along with him.  His strides were so long that she could barely keep up as her feet skipped along beside him.  She lifted the hem of her skirts so she wouldn’t trip. 


The elevator door slid open.  It was not until they stood side-by-side that she realized.


Looking over her shoulder, she saw a trail of red blossoms fallen to the floor along their path as they had slipped from her fingers in her haste.


He had crushed some under his heels.

Chapter Text


The door to his private suite closed with a metallic hiss, sealing away the ambient sounds of the ship.  


The silence was smooth and heavy between them.  


Lord Ren’s hand fell away from hers.  They fled the throne room so quickly, awkwardness just now caught up with them.  They were strangers, yet married. Electricity still buzzed in her skull, the aftershocks of whatever strange magic the Supreme Leader had used to bind them.  Combined with her nerves, her head was floating.


Their union must be complete to be legal.  Rey knew what was coming. She twisted her fingers together and watched him move from the periphery of her eye.  Her new husband took two halting steps toward a table and reached for a carafe.  


“Are you thirsty?” he asked without turning.  


The voice modulator in the mask made emotion difficult to decipher, although the words themselves were clear and soft.  Gentle, Rey supposed, or at least as gentle as he could make them. She felt a flush of gratitude.


“I have water.  And wine,” he continued.  “Perhaps wine would be–”


“Wine, please, Lord.”  The words spilled out of her before he had finished.  She hadn’t meant to interrupt and hoped he didn’t take offense.  “Thank you.”


With a clink, he poured her glass half-full of red wine and brought it to her.


“None for you?”  Rey asked, daring to peek up at him over the rim.


The black and chrome mask gave nothing away.  “I do not drink. Please, enjoy.”


“Oh,” she said, disappointment glazing her words.  No marriage toast between them, then. She still had not seen his face.  Rey took a sip of wine and felt her cheeks flush. Warmth poured down her throat as she pictured what was coming.


The adrenaline of the ceremony was fading quickly and her empty stomach roiled.  She should’ve eaten earlier, the alcohol would go straight to her head.


Perhaps that was a good thing.


Rey took long swallows as he circled behind her.  Unhooking his cape, he draped it over a chair. She heard the unmistakable sound of clothing shifting, and the muscles along her spine tensed as she glanced over his shoulder.


Lord Ren was removing the formal over-jacket, leaving him in only tight trousers and a tunic that hit mid-thigh.  For the first time, she saw the shape of his body clearly. Thick legs and arms, with a solid waist stacked beneath wide shoulders.  The sheer proportion of him was a shock. He bent over slightly to lay out the jacket, and his ample thighs and backside pulled at the seams of his pants.


He was massive.  


Rey turned back quickly and took another big gulp of wine, heating all over.  Her head was swimming. Heavy footfalls moved behind her. “Allow me,” he plucked the glass from her hands.  She gripped the folds of her gown in two fists to dry the sweat from her palms.  


Duty.  Honor. Obligation.  She reminded herself.  


When her husband returned to her side and offered a gloved hand, Rey took it.  He led her deeper into his rooms. 


To his bed.


It was draped in fine sheets of charcoal and fog grey, a large bed for a large man.  Rey supposed that she’d never forget the first time she saw her husband’s bed. Would this be a memory she’d share with a daughter one day, amongst whispers and giggles?  Or an image she would try desperately to forget?


She was not naive, although she’d never laid with a man.  There had been stolen kisses and quick fumbles, but coupling on a planet like Jakku would earn you a momentary respite from despair, at best, and at worst, the death sentence of illness or a child.  No fleeting pleasure was worth the risk. Still, Rey knew enough of the mechanics to worry her lip between teeth while she waited for his next move.


There was a hesitation behind her.  A creak of leather, the whisper of fabric.  She felt that he was measuring up the situation, and perhaps her, and her stomach twisted.


When she finally felt his body heat close in behind her, she froze on instinct like a stalked rabbit, as if stillness would save her.  But this was her husband now. Her body was as much his as it was her own, now, whether she liked it or not.  


Lord Ren said nothing, allowing her to adjust to his proximity.  She didn’t startle, but it was a surprise when a single knuckle made contact with her arm just above the elbow.  It tracked its way slowly up to her shoulder. His touch did nothing to relax her, and if anything, her skin grew tighter and even more aware of him.  She felt the steady pulse of her heartbeat drumming in her ears and between her legs.


His gloved hand was warm and surprisingly soft when it finally edged past the fabric and grazed over bare skin near her collar bone.  A small touch, but it felt as electric as the throne room. Rey’s breath came quick and shallow.


“Are you nervous?” Lord Ren asked, his voice deep and close enough to cause vibrations in her chest.  


She could tell by the barely-concealed satisfaction in his tone that he already knew the answer.  He was enjoying himself. She wondered how experienced he was in such matters.


There was no use hiding it. “Yes, Lord.”


“When we’re alone like this, you may call me Kylo.  Unless you prefer the title.”


“Thank you.”  She swallowed, “Kylo.”


His palm flattened on her skin.  So large that his fingers settled on the plane of her chest even as his thumb curled on the nape of her neck.  


“I do not wish you to fear me,” he whispered.


“I–I don’t.”  Rey swallowed.  It was partially true.  Fear wasn’t precisely the word for what she felt, although it may be the closest.  It didn’t capture the confusing mix of emotions that twisted in her veins, like curiosity and excitement, even as her mouth ran dry.  


His other hand began a methodical track up her other arm.  Rey licked her lips. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.  He was barely touching her, yet every cell screamed for her to flee. The vestigial instincts of a sand rat.


Yet there was no fighting this.  It was a different sort of struggle.


“I–I’ve never,” Rey began.  “I mean to say, that I’ve never–”


“–been touched,” he finished for her.  “Yes, I know.” His other hand ended its journey on her shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake.  “That was obvious the first day we met.”


Kylo stepped closer, her back was pressed against his warm chest.  The natural weight of his hands settled on her skin. A modicum of tension melted away into his heat.  They breathed together in the near dark of his bedroom as she adjusted to the feel of his body touching hers.


“I won’t ask much from you, Rey,” he said quietly.  “Obedience, primarily. Duty. Do you understand?”


She nodded quickly.


“I don’t demand your affection.  Such things are not necessary, and can ruin a marriage.  But you will respect me.”


Rey blinked, trying to make sense of it.  The rush of blood in her veins made clarity a challenge.  He brushed her long hair over a shoulder and tugged at the veil. “Remove this.”


She complied, slipping the pins out blindly with trembling fingers.  He tossed it way. His fingers found her zipper and dragged it down until the gown fell from her shoulders and pooled on the floor, leaving her in only a thin silk slip.


He helped guide her forward to the bed and bent her slowly over it.


Rey gripped the sheets and turned her cheek.  He was silent behind her as he lifted the skirt over her ass.  She was blind in the near dark and could only track his movements by the feel of leather on her skin and his deep breath through the mask.


Fingers stroked down her bare back, appreciatively.  He cupped her ass. “Beautiful, you’re so lovely,” he said.  Rey bit her lip and closed her eyes when two fingers slipped between her legs and began to stroke.  She whimpered and blushed when she realized how wet she was as his leather gloves slid through her.


The mattress sunk down when he kneeled on the bed to shift closer.  A palm pressed down in the mattress near her face as he curved over her.  A single finger eased inside her, and Rey opened her eyes wide with a gasp.  She watched the muscles of his arm flex as he stroked in deeper, the leather warm and strange.


Kylo was trying to be gentle, but it burned when he added another finger.  The stretch was unfamiliar and his pace quickened too soon in his eagerness.  She forced herself to breathe and to relax, to open her thighs wider for him. He was her husband, this was necessary.  When she moved her leg to the side he exhaled heavy, breath rasping.


“You’re so wet for me.”  He said it quietly, maybe to himself.  Perhaps surprised. She wasn’t sure that she was meant to hear.  “So Ripe.”


The fingers withdrew and the bed moved as he unzipped his pants.


Pressure returned at her slit, warm and hard.  He aligned the blunt tip of his cock at her wet center and fit himself inside.  Leaning forward, he used his body weight to sink into her steadily.


Rey turned her forehead into the mattress and whined.  It hurt. She was wet, but he was unrelenting as he filled her.  It felt like too much. He continued the slow plunge onward until he met some resistance.  Several sharp thrusts, and she whimpered as he broke through.


“Breathe,” he said above her.  “Relax. It always hurts the first time.”


Rey didn’t realize she was holding her breath and released it in a rush.  His hips met her ass finally and he clutched her hip. His hips circled, wedging himself deeper, flexing into her.  She grit her teeth, but despite the burning she grew wetter and some of the pain eased.


He withdrew a bit and pushed back in.  And again. The slide grew easier as she softened and turned into steady thrusts.  Kylo wrapped gloved hands around her hips and urged her up on her knees as he knelt behind her.  When she complied, he gripped her tighter and set a quicker pace.


Rey bit her lower lip and fisted the sheets to push back from his rocking.  The pain gradually faded into something else. Not quite pleasure, but pleasurable.  The slick sounds of their bodies joining, his grunts and deep breath, leather gloved-fingers digging into her skin.  It was odd, animalistic, dizzying. It wasn’t as awful as she expected it to be.


His skin slapped against hers until his rhythm became erratic and rough.  Kylo finally plunged in and arched his back to curl over her, his fingers squeezing almost painfully as he groaned.  Rey felt his hot release pulse inside her. Some of his spend trickled down her leg.


Her husband pressed her down to the mattress as his big body covered hers.  Rey’s eyes flitted and roamed in the dark. It wasn’t at all what she expected.  


She didn’t think she would like any of it, but her blood felt hot and quick in her veins and her skin prickled with unreleased tension.


After catching his breath, Kylo shifted and then rolled her over.  She stared up at the mask as he knelt over her on the bed. He was fully dressed, gloves and mask and all, and he had taken her that way.


This was her husband.  She was now his wife. Her body was his, but was his body also  hers?


Rey’s gaze dropped down to his cock, the only skin visible.  Proof he was a man, not a monster. It was softening and flushed pink, still glistening.  That had been inside of her.   

Her eyes flickered back up to the mask.  Like a mirror, it reflected only her own wide eyes.  


Not knowing what bravery possessed her, Rey reached for his cock.  He froze when she cupped him in her hands. Rey wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed, wanting to feel a part of him with her own skin.  Kylo groaned through the mask. It made the hair stand up at the nape of her neck. A deep sound, a human sound.


Rey continued to stroke, squeezing when he flexed his hips into her hand.  Her other hand crawled up under his shirt, seeking the man underneath. The firm muscles of his stomach twitched under her fingertips.  She stroked his cock and dug fingertips into the ridges of his abdominals until he made a guttural sound.


Kylo snapped and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of her head.  Rey held her breath. Had she done something wrong? Angered him?


He only released her hands so he could rip the slip open down the front, exposing her fully.  Rey flinched, but didn’t fight, her own blood heating. He had been controlled before, moderated.  Now he seemed ignited, the air sizzling and crackling around him, unstable.


A glove cupped her exposed tit and rolled it in his palm.  His thumb brushed at the bead of her nipple. Rey swallowed a moan and closed her mouth.


“No.  No, I want to hear you,” he said.


He squeezed again and her eyelids fluttered.


“Does this feel good?”  He asked with genuine curiosity.


She nodded.


“Say it, wife.”


“Yes, Kylo.”


He pinched a nipple between his fingers.  Rey gave a sharp cry, but her cunt pulsed with need.


“And that?”


“I–I don’t know,” she breathed out.  The throb of her body told the truth.  “Yes.”


A hand dragged heavy down her stomach to cup her mound.  He stroked at her wet slit. “What about this?”


“Yes.”  She nodded eagerly.


He found the small pearl at the top and made soft circles.  Rey whimpered and arched her back.


“Ah, yes.”  Kylo said, answering for her.  She could almost hear his smile behind the mask.  “That does.”


His fingers threaded through her folds, delving and circling, until her hips were working with him, easing him where she wanted him to go.  Rey turned her head, blushing from her gasping whimpers and closing her eyes, until he turned her back to face him with two fingers on her jaw.  Her body was humming with desire and other dark needs she could not name or place to have his hands on her body, controlling her. She had his name now and he had her body.  The fact that she could not say no both thrilled and frustrated, which only served to heat her body further.


When he hardened again and slid his cock back inside, he held still to feel her move along his length.  The power it took to restrain himself from moving made the muscles of his stomach quiver as he brought her up to her edge with his fingers, his thick cock anchored inside.


“Say my name,” he growled as she took little gasps for air, teetering on the edge.  Her eyelids fluttered as she stared up at the mask, her husband cut from the darkness, hovering over her like a cloud.  “Say it.”


Rey cried it out instead when she shattered, pulsing around him buried deep inside.  When she finally stopped quivering, he pounded into her until he reached his own rough release a moment later.


He collapsed on the bed beside her, panting.  Rey turned to look into the mask, seeing her own glazed eyes and soft, wondering smile warped in the reflection.  It didn’t look as frightening now as before but she was desperate to see the man underneath.


Rey reached for his gloved hand and he allowed her to place it over her bare breast as she closed her eyes in the dark.


So he could feel the pounding of her heart for himself.


Chapter Text



After nearly a week of marriage, Rey had yet to see his face.


She spent her days reading. The courtesans of Naboo had attempted to teach her needlework and some of the finer arts, but she preferred still tinkering with droids or re-routing electronics.  With nothing but a datapad and the tedious holonet at her disposal, her days were long and lonely.


Fresh blossoms arrived on the cart with her dinner and perfumed her room in a heady, thick nectar. The food was always accompanied by a bottle of red wine and two glasses. She took these gestures as a form of kindness from her husband, or at least an attempt to show polite concern for her feelings. Rey showed him the same cordial respect. After finishing her meal, she'd shower and prepare for his arrival as her nerves set alight like the candle on the table.


She waited dutifully by the bed dressed in one of the many delicate gowns he had provided, perfumed and powdered in glittery silver on her cheeks and shoulders, her décolletage. Tokens to make herself appealing to him in the tradition of Naboo.


The vacuum gasp of the door announced his entrance. It closed with a metallic scrape, and her breath quickened. 


Her heart thumped in time with his heavy footfalls and beat even faster as Lord Ren closed in on her from behind. His chest made contact with her back, like an eclipse of heat. Warm hands traced the curve of her hips, leather skating against silk. He cupped her ass, her breasts, mapping her body. The touch was at first tentative, questing, but at the slightest sign of her acceptance– a gasp, or pressing her body into his palms– the pressure increased along with his confidence. 


For as cold and cruel as the mask appeared, underneath there was a flesh and blood man. A man who seemed to crave her wanting him.


It was a silent dance and they learned to move together. Rey was far too uncertain to speak. She knew her place and let her husband take what was rightfully his. The bitterness of that truth was tempered by the sweetness of the heat pulsing in her veins and between her thighs as his hands possessed her body. 


It was a subterranean secret that Rey would be loathe to admit, but submitting to him was a thrill. She closed her eyes and fell into the electricity of his touch. She’d never been anyone’s before. All her life, she was a scavenger, worthless trash discarded in the sand. Nothing. 


His hands on her body told her she was real. Wanted. Coveted, even.


Gloved hands, firm but gentle, pushed her into the mattress and lifted the hem of her skirt. The groan through the mask was reward enough when he opened his pants and entered her. He began to pump his hips slowly against willing flesh, fully-dressed behind her as she rocked along with his thrusts. 


Her husband took what he wanted, but now waited to finish until he had turned her over to face him.


Rey reached for any bit of skin she could find. The taut plane of his stomach, the trail of soft, dark curls leading downward, the silky heat of his shaft. His nimble fingers slid between her legs to stroke her as he buried himself in her cunt. She stared up at her own reflection in the mask, her eyes glassy and mouth slack, as he made her writhe along his cock.


His breath grew hoarse and quick behind the mask, but he waited until she cried out in pleasure and clenched around him in waves before releasing her. He pounded into her and sought his own release as she braced herself on his arms.


Afterwards, for a few brief moments, he would lie still beside her. Silent, not touching, as the heat from his body still managed to warm her bed. She felt his cum slip from her body, thighs rubbing together and tacky with it. There was a sting of feeling used, like a tool or a mere vessel for his seed. Yet even that debasement somehow thrilled her even as it repulsed her, because she was his only, his one, the mother of the children that the Emperor had decreed. Filthy, but ordained.


His harsh breath behind the mask slowly quieted as he composed himself. Rey had the feeling, oddly, that he was shy now.  He left her the stroke of a finger along her cheek, never staying for the night. Receding like the moon at the break of dawn.


But her husband was no shadow, no moon. He was a man. In his wide chest a heart like hers was beating, she was sure of it. As Rey cleaned herself up, she curled up in the sheets and pulled them up to her chin to save the warmth they had made.


She’d find a way to peel back the layers of black and chrome and see for herself who lay underneath.