Chapter Text
He was in my dreams almost every night.
In a meadow adrift with wildflowers, the sweet scent of blossoms heavy on my tongue.
Aways at arm’s distance, close enough our fingertips barely brushed but separated by an impenetrable force.
As a child, I’d seen him with gangly arms and knobby knees, ears too big for his angular face. But as I’d grown, so had he. Pinched shoulders giving way to a wide chest. Full lips to balance the strong angle of his nose. Waving, inky hair that covered his ears and brushed his collarbones.
The dream was silent, save for the beating of my heart, but I could read his lips.
Do not be afraid, he would tell me, I feel it too.
And on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, he’d held out his hand in supplication, fingers outstretched.
Join me, he’d repeated.
But as the years changed, so did he. Only eight months later, he appeared with an angry slash running diagonally across his face, blood seeping from the wound down his cheeks and over his lips. Dark smudges appeared beneath his eyes. And though the wounds healed, the scars remained and not merely the ones upon his skin. By the time I was twenty, he was nearly unrecognizable to the boy I’d known.
By then the war between the Republic and Alderaan had raged for two years. Two years of starvation and heartache, two years of mindless violence. Two years of death, though it rarely touched us in Coruscant.
Tonight, six years after the start of the war, he was not there. In the dream, I stood in the meadow for what felt like hours and yet there was nothing. No one. Merely the absence of him like the shadow of a bruise not yet formed. And the silence was so deafening it hurt my ears. I screamed into the void, calling out for the nameless male who I had no idea if he was even real or merely the figment of a lonely girl’s imagination having now run its course.
“My lady!” a voice called and I was almost certain I knew the voice.
“Princess!” they yelled again.
Cold, so cold. The sky darkened in the meadow overhead.
“REY!”
I woke with a gasp, arms flying out and battering whoever it was around the face. A familiar grunt filled my ears.
“Gods below, Rose!” I panted.
My friend fell back with an oomph, clutching her jaw. “Finn should have never trained you.”
I grimaced, squinting in the first rays of dawn to make out the figure of my friend lying across the bed. As my handmaiden, she slept beside me most nights, unless my grandfather had need of her elsewhere.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I patted her arm. “What is it?”
Rose huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and pushed up to a seat while rubbing her jaw. “Kinman arrived with a message from his Majesty. He has requested an audience at once.”
My stomach swooped low while dread thickened the blood in my veins. I couldn’t stop thinking of the empty meadow and the storm clouds rolling in. But I allowed Rose to pull me from the bed and hunt down a clean chemise, following it with the dark red cotehardie that had been commissioned only a few months ago, ornately embellished the gold wreaths of the empire running across the hem of the skirts and sleeves.
I winced as she tore a brush through my hair, muttering under her breath about the lack of time to braid it properly. But in only a few minutes I was presentable, sliding my feet into soft leather slippers just as Rose tugged open the heavy door to my apartments to reveal Kinman Doriana waiting on the other side. His few whisps of hair clinging to his head appeared to be just as put out as the rest of him, the heavy scowl on his face revealing trenches so deep I was surprised fairies did not swim in them.
“My lady,” he growled, dipping his chin and in a would-be bow.
Behind him my guard, Finn, frowned, a deep crease forming in his dark-brown forehead.
I lifted my chin and gestured for Kinman to lead the way, expecting we would go to my grandfather’s apartments one floor above. Instead, he led me in along winding path through the abandoned chapel and into the throne anteroom.
“Ah, my lady.” The voice oozed like fat across a flame and my stomach dropped to my knees.
Lord Armitage Hux slunk in from the shadows, bright red hair catching in the light of the torches. Acid coated my tongue at the sight of him, at the memory of his wandering hands, the stink of his putrid breath.
I dropped into a shallow curtsy. “My Lord.”
Lord Hux clicked his tongue. “It will be lord husband before long.”
Not if the gods take me, I prayed. In my mind, however, it was not the gods rising from their long sleep to save me but the man I saw almost every night. Every night except tonight. A hollow pang of grief echoed in my chest—had I lost him now too?
The lord took a step closer and I flinched. Finn cleared his throat. “Watch your hands, my lord.”
My last bruise had only just faded from my jaw, but still ached whenever I smiled—as if the gods were reminding me the days of smiling were soon to be long gone. But Lord Hux paid Finn no mind as he stroked the back of his hand across my cheek.
“As soon as we get there, no one will be able to hear you scream.” Air whistled through his nose as he leaned closer, nose dragging up my throat and leaving invisible insects crawling in its wake. “And how I do love to hear you scream.”
He drew back with a sickening grin, ran a hand through his hair and nodded to Kinman. “I will see you in the Great Hall.”
Silence fell as the soles of his boots retreated. My skirts trembled with my knees and though Kinman opened his mouth to rush me, Finn stepped into my line of vision.
“Take a breath, sprout,” he whispered low enough I was sure Kinman could not hear.
I took one breath, then another, pushing away the rising panic. Weakness was not an option, not in this nest of vipers, and not when I would soon be in front of the king. And if there was one I feared more than Lord Hux, it was my grandfather. Finally, I nodded and Finn gestured to Kinman to guide us into the Great Hall.
Dawn was just starting to spill its light across the sky and the tall, thin windows. Despite the roaring flames within the hearth, I shivered at first sight of my grandfather seated upon his throne, idly stroking one of the small, ornate spires with a fingertip gnarled with age.
Kinman nor any of the footman announced me as I approached. Rose and Finn fell back toward the wall lined with servants and leaving me alone in the center of the room.
Alone, just as I had been in the meadow.
A flash of red caught the corner of my eye but I did not look, I could not. And I swallowed back the bile threatening to rise in my throat as I curtsied, dipping my chin tightly to my chest.
“Sire,” I murmured.
My grandfather sighed, robes shifting as he leaned forward. “Rise, granddaughter.”
A muscle in my jaw worked as I pushed myself to my feet, the rhythm of my heart so rapid my head spun. As king of the Republic, a heavy burden laid on Sheev Palpatine’s shoulders and the years had taken its toll, especially since the first battle began with Alderaan.
“I am sure by now you have heard the news,” he continued, running a hand down his deeply lined face.
The news. There was too much news these days. Did he mean the famine across Endor or the uprising in Ahto? But I kept my face impassive.
“King Organa has gone too far and sent his dogs to our gates. They snap at our heels and thirst for our blood.”
My stomach twisted as my heart beat faster. King Organa, ruler of Alderaan, was the reason the war had started. In fact, only a fortnight after his mother’s passing the first blood had been spilt. No one could understand the cause other than perhaps maddening grief for the loss of both his parents in so short a time. But he had slowly been making his way toward Coruscant and the heart of the Republic—toward my grandfather.
“And no dog is as bloodthirsty as Kylo Ren,” Mas Amedda sneered from beside the dais.
My grandfather hummed his agreement. “Nor as wild—no doubt Organa barely holds their leashes.”
I rolled my lips together, biting back the questions. These proceedings were unfamiliar, even after ten years within my grandfather’s keep after my parents passed. I often struggled to hold my tongue but I kept it clamped down now.
“Therefore, child,” he finally continued, “your betrothed will be taking you to Arkanis for safekeeping while we deal with the threat at our gates.”
“Gods below,” I gasped.
A bang echoed through the stone chamber as he slammed his fist against the arm of the throne. “Do not invoke such nonsense. The gods have abandoned us to their long sleep and bend an ear to no one, let alone you.”
No. No. I would have preferred to face Kylo Ren and his knights than a single moment in Lord Armitage Hux’s presence, let alone his home. From the corner of my eye, the man himself practically preened under my grandfather’s gaze, throwing back his bright red hair before sweeping into a bow so low I was surprised he did not topple over.
“I will protect the princess with my life, My Liege.”
Pain danced across my palms as I squeezed my hands into fists and I focused on the sensation of my nails digging into my flesh instead of screaming. But my grandfather was nodding, waving his hand in a bored sort of gesture before turning to Amedda to inquire as to the whereabouts of Ren and his band of monstrous knights.
“Come, my lady,” Kinman rasped. “All has been prepared for the journey.”
I blanched. “What? We will leave now?”
Lord Hux ambled toward us, tugging on his gloves. He made no comment as he passed, only clicked his tongue as if I, too, were a dog expected to heel. I spun, immediately finding Rose and Finn shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall, their eyes wide and fearful.
“My household must accompany—”
“My lady,” Kinman cut across, “I apologize but we must make haste if we are to leave before Organa’s men arrive.”
The corners of my eyes stung as I was all but dragged from the Great Hall, down the staircase and out into the grounds. Footfalls echoed off the stones around us and I knew others must have followed. Surely Rose would be coming with me, Finn too—he was my guard after all, sworn in by my grandfather to protect me no matter the cost.
I stumbled as we made our way down to the stables were Lord Hux’s team of horses and carriages waited. My grandfather’s knights were loosely gathered, hands resting on the pommels of their swords as Lord Hux inspected our traveling party.
“I have her,” a deep voice grumbled and I could have sobbed in relief to hear Finn’s voice.
Kinman’s grip released slowly as Finn fell into step on my other side, weak late autumn sunlight glinting off my friend’s dented and tarnished armor. I chanced a glance back, knees trembling in relief to see Rose all but running behind us to keep up, her knuckles bleached white across the dark fabric of her skirts.
“No, no, this is all wrong,” Lord Hux cried in his shrill tone, gesturing to the banners displaying the Republic’s sigil. “Should it not be the Palpatine Crest?”
Those few knights who had not yet donned their helmets regarded one another cautiously.
“We are knights of the Republic, my lord,” one said carefully.
A bright red flush crept across Lord Hux’s cheeks. “They are one in the same. King Palpatine is the Republic.”
Silence swept through the grounds like the plague. I exchanged a loaded look with Finn before steeling myself and taking a step forward.
“My lord, the hour grows late and we must depart.”
Lord Hux spun, his hand flying out and striking my face. A cry slipped through my lips as I stumbled, catching myself on the side of the carriage.
“Insolent girl,” he spat. “I should—”
Far off in the village, cries rent the air. The scent of smoke carried on the breeze. Metal groaned around us as the knights readied to depart despite Lord Hux’s demands.
“See her into the carriage, Sir Storm,” Sir Koth rumbled to Finn who donned his helmet and gently guided me inside.
I resisted the urge to touch my cheek as I settled into the dark interior of the carriage, not even peering out the window to see where Rose had ended up within the traveling party. She would be safe, she would have to be. A minute or so later Lord Hux appeared, slamming the carriage door and cursing the gods under his breath.
Sir Koth called out, preparing the horses and we set off but the air was thick with smoke, the screams of our villagers so loud I had the urge to cover my ears. The cries of our men blended together, a clash of steel-on-steel ringing through the morning air.
“Gods below, they’re here,” Lord Hux rasped.
And though I feared Kylo Ren and his knights, a strange satisfaction swelled in me to see Lord Hux so afraid. I had half a mind to throw myself from the carriage when it came to an abrupt halt, the whinnies from the horses barely audible over the din. Fire crackled on a nearby thatched roof—the scent of blood mixed with soot overwhelming to the point of choking.
“Why are we stopped?” Hux screamed, banging on the roof. “Continue at—”
The door to the carriage went flying off its hinges as it was wrenched open. For a moment there was nothing, merely the fire licking at the sky. And then my heart stopped as a figure filled the frame, black armor splattered with blood, great metal horns arcing off the helmet just like Marloweth, the God of Death.
Fast as lightning the knight gripped Hux by the front of his tunic, throwing him bodily from the carriage. My muscles locked into place, the beating of my heart a sickening rhythm pulsing in the bruise blossoming on my cheek. He would take me next, yet even as he reached for me, I did not fight.
“The girl I’ve heard so much about,” a deep voice rumbled from beneath the helmet. “Good morrow to you, Princess Palpatine.”
As soon as he wrenched me to him I twisted, pushing against his armored chest with all my might. But the male held on as if I were merely a child and nothing more, cradling me with one arm as he gripped my chin with the other, turning my face toward him. His fingertips brushed the bruise on my cheek and I hissed as the thick leather dragged across the skin.
“So soft,” he rumbled. “So fragile.”
A whimper slipped through my lips. I’d heard of the Knights of Ren—King Organa had let them loose upon the world like Marloweth’s winged beasts, leaving only death and destruction in their wake.
Behind him, another knight in similar black armor appeared, blood dripping from their curved sword. “All secured, my lord.”
The knight who held me nodded, hefting me tighter into his arms. “Have Vicrul ready the horses. I have what we came for.”
Gods below…
He was not merely a knight.
This man was Kylo Ren.