Chapter Text
Rey fell to her knees in exhaustion and glanced across the shuttle at her prisoner. Kylo Ren looked like nothing more than a pile of black rags heaped in a corner. Rey checked the neural collar around his neck for the hundredth time. He was still unconscious, but just to be on the safe side, she shackled his wrist to the durasteel siding on the wall of the shuttle. When she was satisfied that he was secure, she sat back and closed her eyes.
The assault on the Finalizer had gone remarkably well. It may have been a little messy, Ok more than a little, she thought to herself. Finn had led a small group of Resistance fighters on board through the sanitations systems on a mission to retrieve the locations of all the Stormtrooper indoctrination centers, especially those that housed very young children recently stolen from their families. The rebels had been discovered and a firefight broke out, but not before they had acquired the information and, Rey glanced over at the heap of black cloth, a fairly valuable prize. While Finn and the others escaped, Rey had been left behind. She ran onto an Upsilon class shuttle and things got complicated.
This was not how she planned this.
Ren had taken a few blaster bolts meant for her, and she had saved him. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
The shuttle had sustained massive damage while pulling out of the hangar but as long as it worked, she didn’t care.
Rey glanced over at her prisoner. She had removed his mask to make sure he was still breathing. His face was almost peaceful in sleep.
A screeching siren pierced the silence and the ship lurched clumsily out of lightspeed.
“ That can’t be good,” Rey muttered.
--
Hours later, Kylo sat up groggily. He tried to lift a hand to his head but found himself restrained, with shackles on his wrists connected by a short chain to the wall. He yanked at them angrily, unable to lift his hands past his chest. It was then that he felt the collar.
Rey came running into the room at the sound of his thrashing. She watched silently as he strained against his bonds.
“Release me,” he demanded, “Get me out of this, right now.”
“No,” Rey replied lightly.
“How could you? A neural collar?” he raged.“Why not just kill me?”
Rey rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a drama queen. It was necessary.”
“I can’t feel the Force.”
“That’s the point.”
His thrashing had reopened a wound on his shoulder and blood was trickling onto the floor.
Rey instinctively put her hands on his shoulders to still him. “You’re hurt. Don’t make it worse.” She tore the remains of his shirt loose and dabbed at the blood. When she glanced up at him, he was studying her.
Kylo averted his eyes. “Where is my mask?”
“I put it away.”
“Give it back.”
“Why? You don’t want me looking at your face?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Well-” she took a deep breath. “The ship has been damaged. We lost hyperspace capabilities.”
“Where are we?”
“I have no idea. Somewhere between Ryloth and Hypori, I think.”
“We’re stranded?”
“I’ve managed to send out a distress signal. We just need to wait for someone to rescue us. It shouldn’t take long. Finn will be looking for me.”
“We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere. We’re going to die.”
“We are not. Your shuttle is very well stocked and the water reclamation system works fine. It’s actually pretty luxurious compared to what I’m used to.”
“How long?”
“Until what?”
“Until we starve to death?”
“We won’t. We have enough food for over a month, more if we’re careful.”
Kylo let his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “I’d rather you just kill me now.”
Day 1:
Rey set about creating a routine. She tidied the ship, evaluated the necessary repairs to the hyperdrive, spent some time meditating and doing forms. She liked structure; it made her feel a little less helpless. She had managed to take down one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy, and all she had to do was survive this little hindrance. Either way, the galaxy was a safer place. Rey divided out the portions carefully, silently shoving a dish at Ren during meal times.
He spoke little after that first conversation, merely taking what she offered him and watching her cautiously.
Day 2:
Kylo had never been more aware of his own helplessness, and the accompanying rage threatened to overwhelm him. He watched the slim slip of a girl go about her routine, internally hating every move she made. What was the kriffing point of organizing the ship if in the end it was nothing but a tomb? They were most likely going to die there, yet she still refused to release him.
How would she like it? He fumed. How would she feel chained to the wall with a collar around her neck, completely at my mercy? The mental image was rather pleasing. He imagined the things he would do to her. Torture her, probably, until her screams echoed throughout the ship. The image shifted out of his control and suddenly she was naked and those screams were no longer filled with agony. . .
Kylo shook his head so violently he bashed it against the wall. He hated her. She was infuriating. From the stupid, orderly way she kept the supplies, to the look on her face when she lost herself in her work. The way she bit her lip when she was trying to concentrate. . .
Hatred. Complete hatred.
Ren had to admit her self-discipline was admirable. Imagine what she could do if she was freed from her Jedi misconceptions. He tried not to savor the thought of her in black robes. None of the other Knights would be any match for her. Then, with her fully under his authority, would he allow himself to think of his lingering attraction to her?
Kylo imagined what it would be like, in another life, if he were to openly pursue her romantically. He almost smiled at the absurd image of bringing her flowers, like in the holodramas. He imagined her horror as the realization dawned on her that he was interested in her in THAT way. Gifts thrown back in his face. Perhaps a few slaps too. Wounds. Rejection.
Either way, lover or padawan, she would never be his.
No, she was not one he could bend to his will. It would be fun to try though, to chain her up and lecture her on the merits of the dark side until she begged him to stop. He imagined her on her knees, begging. He would whisper, “Not until you call me Master.” She would look up at him, her full lips parted, a small gasp escaping her as she struggled not to give in.
Kylo ground his nails into his palms. He had to get these wayward thoughts under control.
Day 3:
“You’re doing it wrong.”
Rey looked up startled. “What?”
“The tea. You’ve been brewing it wrong.”
“I’m sorry, why do you care?”
“That’s Oolong from Neimoidia. You scorch it every time you brew it with boiling water. And you leave it in too long.”
Rey sipped the bitter tea. “That’s nice.”
“I just don’t like to see you ruining perfectly good Oolong,” he said angrily.
Rey took another slow, deliberate sip and merely hummed.
Day 4:
The self-imposed routine was the only thing keeping her sane, but Rey was more than used to that. She wasn’t, however, used to having someone else in her space. Back on Jakku, she lived in her own little world, lost in her thoughts for days on end, able to talk to herself or to the machines she was tinkering with without worrying about who was there to judge her.
And Kylo Ren was a judgmental bastard.
Everywhere she went on the shuttle, he watched her every move and judged her, sometimes silently, sometimes not. First it was the stupid tea, then he started correcting her forms. It came to the point where Rey wanted to hide in the tiny ‘fresher, just to avoid him. But even then, she could still feel him. His end of the bond may have been shut down by the neural collar, but she could still sense him.
Was it really the best idea, sparing him? Most members of the Resistance would probably have shot him on sight. For General Organa’s sake, Rey couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was Leia’s son, and Han’s. She could see it in his profile. Sometimes she studied his face while he was sleeping, seeing the blood of the smuggler and the princess so clearly in his features. How did he come to this? This dark and unstable raw power? He was powerful, undeniably. Rey could feel it through the bond. Sometimes it overwhelmed her and she shivered at the sensation, like electricity, adrenaline, and heat.
But here, with him chained and at her mercy, she could no longer dismiss him as a monster. Whatever he was, he was human, and male, as his occasional heated glances reminded her. It stirred something in her, something foreign and forbidden, something she would rather not think about.