Blood and Snow: A Reylo Smut Story

Author's Note:

The story's timeline begins with a slight corruption of certain events in Episode VII, followed by an assumed window of several months between the events on Starkiller base and Rey's journey to find Luke, wherein this story takes place. The reader should be aware this story has multiple graphic depictions of rough but consensual sex, and some depictions of violence.

*****

Prologue: How things begin.

She jolts awake, startled, unsure where she is. She realizes that she is restrained, hand and foot in an interrogation chair and she tries the shackles briefly, vainly hoping that she might break free. Then she stops, because she realizes she is not alone in the room.

A black clad figure is across the room, crouching like a beast ready to attack. It, perhaps he, watches her silently. A chill of fear passes through her to think how long she lay there, unconscious and observed by this black harbinger of death, this violator of her mind. Had it been able to see her dreams?

"Where am I?" she asks, fearing the answer.

"You're my guest," says the electronically distorted voice from the beast's helmet.

"Where are the others?"

"You mean the murderers, traitors, and thieves that you call friends?" it asks, disdain audible even in its lifeless post-processed voice. "You'll be relieved to hear that I have no idea."

There is a pause, lingering between them.

"You still want to kill me," it says, a shade of wonder, appreciation perhaps, in its tone.

"That happens when you're being hunted by a creature in a mask," she rejoins, embracing her anger.

To her surprise the figure stands, and raising its hands to the mask, unlatches it and pulls it free to reveal its face. She feels her heart catch in her throat at what she sees. What she has imagined was a face, no, not even a face, a visage, grizzled and scarred, showing explicitly the evil underneath it. But the face that is revealed, his face, is both young and beautiful. Unusual perhaps, but achingly beautiful. It disturbs her to feel her body respond to the sight, feeling a sudden rush of desire within her, mingling with her fear and anger. She is captivated for a moment, confused, then looks away.

He approaches her, coming to stand close, staring down at her calmly from his considerable height, and she conspicuously avoids his gaze.

"Tell me about the droid," he says.

Her mind grabs onto this. The droid. A distraction. She begins to recite its specifications like a litany, a prayer for solace, but he interrupts her.

"-carrying a section of a navigational chart. And we have the rest, recovered from the archives of the Empire, but we need the last piece. And somehow you convinced it to show it to you," he pauses here, shifting his gaze to look down at her. "You, a scavenger."

You want to make me feel tiny, thinks Rey, tiny, helpless, and worthless. But I will not let you cow me.

"You know that I can take whatever I want," he says, allowing his eyes to trail from her face down the length of her prone body and back, quickly but suggestively, his face hard.

She should be revolted at this, or frightened, but it nearly sends a shudder through her, her stomach tightening and her throat dry with desire. It brings thoughts unbidden to her mind that excite and horrify her.

He moves next to the chair and crouching down, brings his hand close to her head. She tenses, looking away, but she feels him push his way into her thoughts again, just as he had in the forest. Desperately, she pushes the lustful images aside, and puts all her efforts into stopping him, blocking him, but to no avail. She feels as though he is simply drawing back a curtain with his leather gloved hand, exposing her inmost thoughts.

"Why are you so lonely?" he asks, and she feels as though her heart stopped. "So afraid to leave. At night, desperate to sleep. You imagine an ocean. I see it. I see the island." He pauses, evidently displeased with what he has found. "And Han Solo, you feel like he is the father you never had." There is a tone of disgust and bitterness in his voice now. "He would have disappointed you."

"Get out of my head!" she says, furious, wishing that she was capable of blocking him out.

"Why," he asks, reaching to grip both sides of the chair, looming over her and bringing his face close to hers, his eyes straying to her mouth. "Is there some place else I should be?"

And she knows that he senses it, not just her fear or anger, but her desire and revulsion, and he is toying with her.

"You're a pig," she says with as much venom as she can muster.

Then suddenly he is kissing her, his mouth pressed almost violently against hers. Startled for a moment she doesn't respond, then she bites down on his lower lip. He cries out and springs away. He is bleeding, and he brings his gloved hand to his mouth to touch the wound and then examines his finger tips.

"I know you've seen the map," he says, changing the subject violently, his voice cold again. "It's in there. And now you'll give it to me."

He reaches into her mind again and she feels overwhelmed by an awareness of him. She struggles against him, but she can't keep him out. She swims in a pool of rage and fear, trying to keep afloat, while another dark emotion swims with her, beneath the surface. Goose bumps raise on her skin and she feels a knot tighten in her stomach as her heart rate accelerates.

"Don't be afraid," he says, "I feel it too."

"I'm not going to give you anything," says Rey, and she doesn't mean just the map.

"We'll see," he says, and he doesn't mean just the map either.

Extending his hand, he digs into her mind again, and mentally she casts about, as though trying to find traction to push him back. She feels herself sliding, giving way, until suddenly she catches a ledge, something to push from, and she begins to resist. He brings his hand closer to her face, trying to intensify his efforts, but it is no use, suddenly she is gaining ground, leaning towards him into the restraints. And then it is as if a door has opened, and it is she who is able to draw back the curtain of his mind. She finds great darkness and sadness there, rage and fear. The fear surprises her, she pursues it, tracks it to its source and lays her finger on it.

"You," she says. "You're afraid. Afraid you'll never be as strong as Darth Vader!"

The revelation seems to echo in the small space of the interrogation room, startling both of them, and he severs the connection, retreating from her mind and blocking her from his once again.

She falls back into the chair drained, a sense of wonder filling her. He storms out of room leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Then she escapes.

Chapter 1: Undercurrents.

Weeks later, in a rebel held star base she wakes, this time from a dream. The dream. The only one she has anymore. Her heart is beating wildly, a mix of fear and excitement running through her veins. She is disoriented for a moment sitting up on the bunk in a panic only to collapse back down when she recognizes her surroundings. She closes her eyes, attempting to slow her breath.

It's the same. The same dream. Not every night, but most, since escaping Starkiller base. First there is the fight in the woods. The old snow laden trees providing a surreally calm backdrop to their heated battle, the lightsabers casting an eerie glow as they slice through the air. He is pursuing her, easily beating back her attempts to defend. She is cold, terrified, and stumbling. Finn might be dead, and the idea makes her heart shrink in her chest, knowing she might be the next to fall before Kylo Ren's lightsaber.

Then she is at the cliff, just a pace from the abyss, their sabers locked, and he offers to teach her about the Force. For a moment she imagines it, imagines him as her dark teacher by day, honing her mind, and possessing her by night, their bodies locked in voracious and sinister congress. She wrenches her mind free from this distraction; there is something else, something she is missing.

"The Force..." she says, and she closes her eyes, shutting him out. She thinks that she can sense it. It is the darkness rolling out of him and into the woods, the energy in the trees, the snow, in her pounding heart. She can sense him again, the connection between them opening, and she pulls from him, bringing his darkness into her. Feeling his strength flow through her limbs, a terrible new knowledge possesses her and opening her eyes she launches a brutal assault. Stunned, he falls back under her attack, her fighting style now mirroring his own, saber spinning lightly and wildly in her hands.

Soon he is on his back, defeated in the snow, dripping blood and sweat, looking up at her unbelievingly. The darkness in her is seductive, making her feel powerful and alive, and it calls for his death. She could kill him now, take vengeance and make him pay with his life for the one she has watched him take. He deserves it. Yes, he does, says the whisper of the darkness.

But something in her calls out, begs her to stop. Rey thinks of Leia, of how the General's face will crumple when she learns that she has lost not only a husband, but also her son. Rey waivers on the edge, undecided, vengeance and pity at war within her, when suddenly the ground opens up and decides for her, separating the two by a chasm.

There the dream shifts. The snow blurs into a great field of white, then fades to black, and in the darkness they are together: he her dark teacher and she his apprentice. This is always the same, though the rest varies as it unfolds. She cannot see in the darkness, but she can sense him as he approaches her and they embrace. She craves the feeling of his skin against hers, the taste of his mouth, and she rips at his clothes blindly. Sometimes he restrains her, gripping her hands behind her back, teasing her by not letting her touch him. Other times he is direct, undressing her as desperately as she him, coming to kneel before her and press his face between her legs, breathing in deeply the scent he finds there.

It always ends the same though. She is trapped underneath his body, her legs wrapped around him possessively as he drives himself into her at a rhythmic punishing pace. She feels the sensation building within her and as she tenses, he accelerates, pushing her more quickly towards the edge until she feels as though she is bursting into a million pieces and she rakes her fingernails viciously down his back. The pain she inflicts on him causes him to lose control and he goes with her over the falls, the last image of the dream being his face, contorted in ecstasy.

Sitting in her bunk, she shakes her head, as if she could clear the image from her mind. Her body is always blissful after this dream, light and relaxed, while in contrast her mind is a tempest of emotions: lust, revulsion, fear and anger all mixed together and colliding with one another. She leaves her bed to have a cold shower, and to get on with the distractions of the day.

They have found work for her repairing fighters, transports, and droid electronics, at least temporarily until she starts her search for Luke Skywalker. She has so many questions for him, some that she might be too ashamed to ask. It should be only a few more days until her departure, and she works tirelessly, hoping to finish the most complex of the items on her list before she leaves.

It feels good, to have camaraderie and a place in a larger entity. She has friends. She and Finn share most of their meals, and she occasionally gets to see General Organa, though Leia is very busy and often away on important missions. Rey has been getting to know Poe too, and she enjoys quietly observing his witty banter with Finn, like two sand pups tussling for sport.

She is working in the hangar, her body half submerged in the chassis of a transport ship. A JX9 droid has been assigned to her, and it passes her tools and supplies. A total sense of focus and stillness fills her mind as she does her work. She can see that the fuel control system is shorted, causing a resonance with the artificial grav system, which could cause weightlessness during heaving acceleration. She grins wryly at the thought, then shakes her head. It would be easy enough to fix.

"Jay, get me a-" she begins, but her words stop short.

"What was that Miss Rey?" asks the JX9.

Frozen in place she doesn't respond, her face is a frightened mask. He is here. Kylo Ren is here. She can sense his presence, a dark and angry pull in her mind. Her eyes flick about as she assesses the feeling, initially unsure what to do. Then she springs to action; she has to warn Leia.

"Miss Rey?" the droid is saying as she extracts herself from the underbelly of the ship and breaks into a dead sprint, leaving the confused droid behind without an answer.

She heads to the command center. She must give the alarm, though she doesn't know how to explain it. He would surely attack at any moment, the inhabitants of the base unaware of their impending doom. Fear speeds her feet.

Bursting into the command center she is relieved to find Leia there. Running to her, breathing heavily, Rey takes her by the shoulders and speaks.

"Kylo Ren," she says. "Ben. He's here. He's at the base."

Leia's initial look of alarm takes on as aspect of sadness.

"I know," she says. "We took him captive."

Rey pants, trying to catch her breath, as she takes in this information. Her hands fall from Leia's shoulders slowly.

"How?" asks Rey.

Leia sighs, glancing back to the business Rey has interrupted. There is a small crowd for curious onlookers, commanders and squadron leaders. Rey blushes with embarrassment.

"It wasn't easy," says Leia heavily, "and holding him may prove harder. How did you know?" Leia asks gently, but with curiosity.

"I just knew," says Rey lamely, with helpless shrug.

Leia nods with a somber understanding, and turns back to the others. "We'll discuss this another time."

And with that, Rey is dismissed.

She returns to work, but is unable to focus. At dinner Finn has news about the capture of Kylo Ren. Evidently he was caught in an ambush. They were able to disarm him and trap him in a heavily reinforced, sound insulated container, keeping him isolated from those he might influence with the Force. Evidently they have been planning it since Starkiller base, to use him as a bargaining chip against the First Order.

"What's wrong?" asks Finn, seeing her face.

Rey shakes her head.

"I just think it's dangerous having him here."

But she doesn't elaborate.

"Rey," calls Kylo Ren, "Rey..."

The voice rips her from sleep in an instant. She reaches for the lightsaber in the dark and she springs from bed to defend herself, shocked and terrified to imagine that he has found his way into her room. But in the glow cast by the saber as it hums, she finds that she is alone.

Troubled, she switches off the saber and uncertainly climbs back into bed. She does her meditation technique, imagining the ocean, vast and calm, so different from Jakku. Then her island, populated with lush fruit bearing plants and fresh water streams. This is how she has always soothed herself on the sleepless nights on Jakku, the place that will always feel like a waystation no matter how long she stays. Elusive sleep is about the descend upon her when she hears him again.

"Rey," he calls. "Rey."

This time she realizes that it is not her ears that are hearing the call. She can still appreciate the quality of his voice, his natural voice, not the synthesized one, its tenor and tone. But it is her mind that receives the message, not her ears. He is speaking to her through the Force.

"Leave me alone," she says back, trying to send this message through the ether, unsure that he is hearing her. She can almost feel him smile darkly.

"Come to me," he says.

"No," she responds angrily. "Leave me alone!"

There is silence for a while, but she can still feel him, somewhere in the base, a dark and pulsing presence in the corner of her mind. She wishes she could rid herself of the sensation, but she cannot. Then he calls her name again.

"Stop," she says but he will not.

He keeps calling her name, on into the night. She can't sleep, and when she does manage to drift away for several moments, his voice invades her dreams and she dreams of him. The morning comes at last and she is exhausted.

The assault does not continue during the day, but she feels sluggish and isn't as quick as she usually is at diagnosing problems. She doesn't know if she should tell Leia what is happening, or anyone else for that matter. Somehow she feels embarrassed at the idea, that her own dark infatuation might be revealed in questioning his interest in her. And what is his interest in her, to turn her to the dark side? To make her his apprentice and lover? She shudders, unsure whether it is more fear or desire that moves her.

And all through the day, he is there, at the back of her mind.

This night is the same, the insistence more forceful, and the following day worse, as she nearly wanders in a fog. Finn asks if she is alright, and she is evasive, saying she has been having trouble sleeping. He wants to accompany her to the medical station, but she insists that she just needs to go to bed and he desists.

She lays on her bunk in a stupor, and bone tired, falls asleep. If Kylo tries to call to her, she doesn't hear it. A warning klaxon might not have been able to wake her.

And she has the dream.

This time the fight in the woods transitions to something different. When the darkness subsides Kylo is there, incarcerated in a small room, his feet chained to a point on the floor and his hands bound in shackles behind his back. He has been stripped of his rich dark garments and now wears a simple grey prisoner's jumpsuit, his long hair is loose and wild.

She approaches him with hesitance and he watches her sternly. A feeling that she should turn and run is hammering at the back of her mind, but her body is drawn forward one step at a time and she is unable to stop it. Then she is standing in front of him. He is so tall that she only comes up to his shoulder. Looking up at him she feels enraged, her heart freshly broken again thinking of Han's murder. She slaps him, tears brimming in her eyes. He receives the slap with a stoney glare.

"How could you?" she says looking up at him.

"That's not your concern," he says with thinly veiled rage in his tone.

She raises her hand to slap him again, but her arm is arrested midair. She looks at her hand, seemingly frozen solid in the air, and then glares at him, knowing he is wielding the Force against her. Anger is plain on his face now.

Suddenly her body is violently crushed against him, her head forced back to look up at him. He leans down to bring his face close to hers, his eyes scanning her face, his gaze lingering on her mouth before settling on her eyes.

"You disgust me," he says in a clipped angry voice. "Your foolish naive idealism, your misplaced sense of honor and righteousness. It's revolting."

"Trust me," she bites back hotly, "the feeling is mutual."

Then he presses his mouth to hers with a furious hunger that she echoes. She feels his Force hold on her loosen and she brings her arms up around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair and taking fistfuls of it as she presses him to her and drinks him in. She yanks his hair cruelly and he makes a small sound of surprised pain, then in response bites down painfully on her lower lip and when he releases her she tastes her own blood. Placing her hands on his shoulders she pulls herself up him, climbing, and wraps her legs around his waist, locking her legs at the ankles around his bound arms.

Now she is taller and she once again yanks his hair, pulling his head back this time so that she can kiss him from the more dominant position. Their kisses get wilder and more desperate as they continue.