Chapter Text
Life was simplistic on Naboo. Well, okay, maybe not in the cities, or the swamps, but your little cottage near the lake country was a scene straight from a pastoral. You much preferred it to the busy life you used to lead as a medic in Theed. The scenery was calm and there were minimal interactions to be had with people. Wild flowers surrounded your small home, a sea of pink and white and light blue and yellow, calling you to lay amongst them and watch the clouds float through the crystalline sky. With the flowers came the tiny bees that buzzed and bobbed across the landscape, and with the bees came your favorite part of living away from the city; honey.
Honey seemed to be a luxury in other parts of Naboo, and certainly in most of the galaxy, but you were lucky enough to have access to a hive nearby. A friend of yours was a beekeeper who cultivated and sold the honey his bees created, and you always got first dibs on the newest batch. You used it in your baking, your tea, and sometimes you even used its golden coloration in your glass creations.
You knew honey had effective medicinal properties, and you certainly felt as if it healed your soul when you consumed it, but you never imagined you’d need to put it to the test.
You heard the crash before you felt it. But when you felt it, it jarred your whole body and caused one of your flower vases to crash into the floor. You rushed outside to see what caused such a ruckus. Upon your exit from the house, you saw a crashed shuttle, not quite 50 feet from your entrance. More startling, you saw a prone form in front of the craft, perhaps ejected before it hit the ground, you pondered absent-mindedly as you rushed towards the crash sight.
Kneeling next to the body, you figured out a few things. 1) It was a man, 2) he appeared to be a member of the First Order, and 3) he was quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He had thick, wavy black hair that made his skin seem as white as the flowers around him, with small beauty marks scattered across his sharp features. The man was massive, easily 6’4”, and even unconscious, he had an aura of power around him that had you wondering how intimidating he’d be awake.
You examined for any obvious external injuries and noticed a pretty prominent gash along his midsection. After checking to see if he had a pulse, you determined he was still alive, although barely. As you were trying to figure out how the hell you were going to get this unconscious, much larger than you, man into your house, his eyes snapped open and he attempted to sit up with a gasp.
You quickly set your hand on his chest to calm him, pushing him back slightly. “Whoa whoa whoa, easy there tiger!” His eyes darted to you, and in his deep amber eyes you could see fear, confusion, and pain colliding into a cocktail of Upset. He made sort of a gurgling noise, which you took to be him asking for an explanation. “You crashed, and you look pretty injured. I can help you, but I need you to help me first, okay?” He grit his teeth and managed a nod.
You smiled. “Okay great. I’m going to support you the best I can, but I need you to stand up for me so I bring you to my cottage.” His eyes slid to the house and then back to you. He seemed hesitant but started to curl up so he could stand. You set a hand on his back and pushed in an effort to aid him, standing as he did. Leaning heavily against you, he managed to make his way to your residence with minimal stumbling. This guy sure seems pretty tough, you thought. You were sure if you were in the same situation, you’d be crying and curled up in the fetal position waiting to die.
You’re really not certain how you managed to get him into the cottage, but you thanked every deity you could think of as you laid him out on your too-small-for-him bed. He still seemed alert as you worked to get his clothing undone, often wincing in pain whenever you got too close to his wound. Once the wound fully hit open air however, he passed out again, seemingly unable to handle the pain.
You quickly gathered any supplies that would help you and got a bucket of water. Standing next to the side of the bed, you began to carefully cleanse the wound, grateful your new patient was asleep since this was the most painful part. The wound itself was long, but not deep enough it would’ve damaged any organs. You finished cleaning it and sterilized a needle with a lighter, neatly stitching the wound closed.
You lacked sterigel in your collection of medical items, though you made a note to contact one of your old med buddies to get some more, but something was needed to prevent infection and promote healing. You wracked your brain, searching for something, anything, and then it hit you, like someone had violently thrown a lightbulb at your head. The honey.
In olden times, honey was used as an anti-bacterial, anti-fungal, anti-pretty much anything, and was especially good at healing minor burns. You concluded that it could be used in the situation as long as you changed his dressings often. You popped open a previously unopened jar of honey and scooped out a handful, slathering it lightly over his wound. You washed your hands before taping gauze over the stitches. You determined that at this rate, you’d probably need to ask your med buddy for more than just sterigel.
You sighed softly, simultaneously cursing whatever god put you in this kind of situation again, and thanking them because you knew that your stranger patient might be dead in anyone else's hands. Now resigned to your new fate, you set out to make some soup in case your stranger woke up soon. Funny how quickly he went from A stranger to Your stranger. You felt protective of him now, for some unknown reason.
It was around the time the soup had finished cooking and you started to fill bowls that you heard the stranger in the bed gasp and try to sit up like he did before. “Man, you just don’t learn, do you?” you mused as you glanced back at him. He winced and you shook your head. “You’re going to reopen those stitches I just worked so hard on. Just relax.” You noticed he tentatively laid back down after you said that which made you grin.
You turned with both soup bowls in hand, setting them on your bedside table before pulling up a chair closer to him. “My name is (Y/N L/N). And you, stranger, have a nasty laceration horizontally across your upper abdominal region. I dressed it though, so the bleeding should stop soon if it hasn't already.” He looked at you with a mixture of awe and confusion, his eyes now only slightly dimmed with pain.
When he spoke for the first time, his deep timbre shook you to your core. “I see,” he mumbled, looking at his dressing for the first time. “Thank you.” You blushed slightly, hopefully unnoticed, and grinned.
“No need to thank me, you’re just lucky you happened to crash in front of the cottage of a trained medical professional,” you gushed, mentally hitting yourself for sounding so flustered just because he spoke to you. “I, um, I made you some soup. I’ll help you sit up a little so you can eat it.” You quickly stood, gently helping him up and fluffing the pillows behind him so he could lean back comfortably. “Usually I like to know my patients names… Yours would be?”
He grunted softly. “Kylo Ren.” His words sent you reeling for a moment. You had to take a step back. “Kylo… Ren? As in,, The Kylo Ren? Commander of the First Order Kylo Ren?” You struggled to think of more descriptors. Your mind supplied ‘Killed his own father Kylo Ren’ but that seemed disrespectful.
He watched your reaction passively, his face taking on a mask of emotionlessness. “Yes. That Kylo Ren.” You exhaled shakily and sat down, running your hand across your face. “Oh,” was all you said, all you could think to say. How were you supposed to handle this?? Having the commander of the First Order in your custody was Not something they trained you for at the medbay. You weren’t even sure how to address him now. Should you call him Commander? Sir? Kylo? Mr. Ren???
Your thoughts were paused as you felt a pressure pushing at the back of your head. You rubbed at your temples to help the slight splitting headache that had just developed when it left suddenly and you heard your patient’s smooth voice muse, “Kylo is fine for now.” You looked up at him, confused as to how he knew until it dawned on you, ‘Oh, he just read my mind.’
“Hey hey hey, whoa now, let’s establish some boundaries here! No mind reading,” you scolded. “That’s not fair to me!” His lips twitched up slightly into a brief semblance of a smile.
“I was simply checking to make sure you bared no ill-will towards me. I wouldn’t want to put myself in a situation where a person I don’t know can determine whether I heal or die of infection. I’m sure you’d understand if you were in my position.”
Was he,, teasing you? Because it sounded like he was teasing you. You pondered this for a moment before sighing, sitting down again, and pushing his soup toward him. “Here you are, Kylo.” You exaggerated his name to show him that you could tease him right back.
He leaned over to get the soup and winced slightly, glancing down at the offending wound. “Why am I… sticky.” You couldn’t help but smile at that. “I used honey to dress your wound.”
“You used honey. to dress my wound,” he repeated.
You nodded, eating a spoonful of soup. “Yep. It’ll help it heal until I can get my hands on some sterigel.” He grunted in acknowledgment. “I see.”
Together you ate in silence, and you used the opportunity to get a better look at him. He had a strong nose and plush lips, both of which you admired greatly. He was so pale, and you had trouble determining if that was from blood loss, or if he was just really that pale. Numerous small scars littered his shoulders and torso, and in the light of your lamps, you were able to now see that he also had a large scar that glistened across his face and right shoulder. “Gnarly,” you murmured softly. He looked at you, his expression still blank. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t gawk at me like a zoo animal.”
You scrambled for words, flustered he’d caught you staring. “I didn’t, I mean I- Oh gods, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t- I just-” He stopped your flow of words with his hand raising. “It’s fine.” His words were terse and you shrunk back, sure he was angry. You didn’t know a lot about the First Order, but Ren’s anger was legendary. You hoped that his wound would stop any notions he had about destroying you and/or your cottage.
Kylo shook his head and sipped his soup. “I wouldn’t harm you. You saved my life.” You relaxed slightly before straightening again in indignation. “Hey wait-”
He silenced you again. “That one was not purposeful. I simply hear your thoughts. No effort on my part.” You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.
This was going to be an interesting few weeks.