Blood and Snow: A Reylo Smut Story

The ship has carved a deep furrow into the snow, but its heat from re-entry has melted much of it, so fortunately it is accessible and not buried or hidden. Pieces of the ship are scattered about, as it began to break up when it made the first bounce, then a second, before carving a continuous furrow.

"Kylo?" she calls out, alarmed that she hasn't seen him yet. "Kylo!" This time she yells it with all her strength, but it feels as though the sound travels nowhere, completely absorbed by the snow. She feels a panic begin to rise up in her, and then she remembers. Closing her eyes, she reaches out and feels for him via that intangible connection she seems to have with him. Her breathing slows and her face relaxes as she leans into the Force, using it as an extension of herself as she searches for him. And she finds him. Unconscious it seems, but very much alive.

She trudges to one of the medium sized pieces of debris and finds him, buried beneath it. It is heavy and when she tries to lift it her feet sink into the snow. She tries again to no avail. Now she remembers the lightsaber, Anakin's lightsaber, lodged in the snow on Starkiller base. How she felt as it flew through the air and into her hand. Closing her eyes she extends herself in that intangible way into the wreckage and pulls at it, willing it to move. It moves, but only slightly. She tries again with the same result.

Realizing she cannot do it alone, she reaches out to Kylo. Focusing on him she can feel his strength, the Force pulsing through him. She can feel the bond between the two of them, like a fierce thread of spider silk, linking them. As she did before on Starkiller base, she draws on him, though this time consciously, pulling his strength into her. She fills herself with it, feeling herself become more like him, her posture changing as her shoulders tense. She reaches out now with a hand to lift the wreckage and it moves, floating into the air. On a whim, she flings it aside violently, crushing it into the ground with violence, a vindictive smile crossing her lips.

He is lying on his back, many of his suit's pockets collapsed. She deflates the suit to examine him. He has a head injury, including a small gash which is bleeding profusely into the snow. She unzips her suit to reach inside and extracts the small knife that comes with the suit for cutting it away if need be, and uses it to cuts loose a strip of her coveralls to bind his head with. It will have to do for now. Hopefully he will wake soon. The nav device is still in his pocket, and functional.

She finds pieces of debris to bind to her feet to create make-shift snow shoes. A great stroke of luck is that the part of the ship containing the survival kit is near, and it's contents are only partially mangled. Using the tarp from this kit, she makes a sled and puts him on it, wrapped in the remains of the blanket, along with the other supplies she has found, and sets off in the direction the nav tells her. According to it, she is about nine kilometers from their destination. Which means she probably won't be able to reach it before nightfall, at least not towing a body almost twice her size. But she lacks alternatives.

Even though the terrain is largely flat, it's tough going. Watching the chronometer on the nav and the rate at which the sun is settling towards the horizon, her heart grows cold. She has even less time than she thought. She has made it only three kilometers when the sun begins to set. Looking at the prone form on the tarp she considers abandoning him, a dark part of her says he would only deserve it. Then she wonders, would he have done the same to her? She knows the answer. She can imagine him, her limp body thrown across his shoulders as he trudges through the snow, the wind whipping his hair and frosting his breath. Why he would do such a thing, she cannot say, but she knows it with a certainty. Knowing what he is capable of, the monster that he is, the image makes her shudder, but it is also why she cannot leave him.

She keeps going, feeling her strength ebbing from her, struggling. It is full dark now, and her progress has slowed dramatically. She has only barely made it another half kilometer during twilight. Her body is beginning to collapse, and there is no shelter in sight.

Falling to her knees next to the sled, she pulls the blanket back from his face. If she could not still feel his presence through the Force, she might fear he was dead. But he felt very much alive, strong even. She brings her hands to either side of his face, her fingers rigid with the cold, and presses into his mind, drawing back the curtain that separates his thoughts from hers.

"Kylo," she says in that silent way he had called her mind from sleep. "Kylo, wake up. If you don't wake up, we're going to die."

He is unresponsive. She tries again, nothing.

She wants to cry, but she fears the tears will freeze on her face and she holds them in. She is afraid to shake him, because of the head injury. She shouts his name, and when he remains silent, tears rolling down her face, she presses her wet cheek against his and whispers in his ear.

"Please Ben, please," she whispers. "I don't want to die. Not yet."

She hears him making a rumbling noise in his chest and at last he stirs. Relief rolls through her. She pulls away to look at his face and he blinks and looks back at her.

"We're 4.5 kilometers away from the base. I can't..." her voice cracks and dies in her throat. She shoves the nav system at him.

He looks at it groggily, slowly becoming more alert as he reads it.

"You brought me all this way," he says flatly, then looks from the nav to her, but she has curled into a ball and is shivering. Without the exertion of pulling the sled she is getting even colder. "Well, we aren't going to make it tonight."

"So we're going to die," she says flatly.

"I didn't say that," he says. "We might, but we might not. You should have just made a shelter while there was still light out."

She shakes her head, shivering. "I don't know about snow."

He gives her a look of pity and disdain that she cannot see. Standing unsteadily, he brings his hand to his head with a wince. He drops the blanket on top of her, and closes his eyes. She can feel him reaching deep into the Force, or perhaps the Force reaches into him, she is not sure, but she looks up to find that he is using it to move snow. In a few moments, he turns to her.

"Come on," he says and she stands on shaky legs.

He digs out a small light from the supplies, then wraps the remaining items in the tarp and carries them to a hole he has formed in the ground. The entrance is narrow, and there is a small space, a burrow of sorts, just big enough for the two of them to lay side by side, with only just enough headroom to sit up. She enters first, and he follows, then he packs the entrance closed except for a small hole for ventilation. He maneuvers the tarp around to cover the floor and she shifts to help.

"Take off your suit," he says, working at the zipper on his own.

She complies without comment, fumbling at the zipper in the cold, though being out of the wind already seems to be helping a little. A shiver convulses her as her sweaty inner layer is exposed to the air. He takes the suit from her and inflates both his and hers slightly, spreading them out on top of the tarp to act as insulation, upon which he lays the blanket. Sifting through the supplies he mutters to himself. He pulls two cans from the supplies and after examining them he pulls the tab on one.

"Here, take this," he says, handing to her. "Its very hot. The can has a small exothermic reaction when opened, heating the water inside. Hold it until you think you can drink it without burning yourself, then drink it as quickly as possible.

She takes the can and almost drops it. The relative heat of it is so severe in comparison to her ice cold hands that it feels like it is burning even though it is reasonably insulated. Trying a sip she burns her tongue and elects to wait, cradling it against her chest. It's a simple broth, but she waits eagerly to drink it. He does the same in silence. Once it has cooled just enough she drinks it quickly, feeling the heat fill her stomach. It is a welcome sensation. He hands her a meal bar which she eats greedily.

"Why aren't you eating?" she asks, as she licks the wrapper, eager for the smallest crumb remaining.

"I didn't expend as many calories," he says. "I can wait. Take off your clothes."

She looks alarmed, but she is too tired to mount much of an argument.

"What?" she asks weakly and shivers.

"Your clothes are wet," he says. "You won't be able to warm up effectively in them. You need to take them off. All of them."

Her face hardens distrustfully.

Clearly trying to hold his temper he tries again. "The evaporative cooling will inhibit your ability to accumulate heat, you can appreciate that can't you? Don't argue. I'm trying to keep you alive." He finishes his statement through gritted teeth.

"Fine," she says testily, and begins to strip her clothing off until she is fully undressed, kneeling on the tarp next to him, her whole body covered in goose bumps. He gives her an irritated look and picks up her wadded garments, attempting to lay them flat on an open part of the tarp. Then he gestures for her to lie on the blanket. He has removed his impact suit, but not his garments which are dry. Now though he removes his coverall, so that he is only wearing an undershirt and shorts, and hands it to her.

"Put this on," he says. "Then lie down on your side."

She complies, shivering.

He then folds the blanket around her, and moves close, slipping underneath the blanket as well. He presses himself against her back, wrapping an arm around her chest, sliding his fingers between her rib cage and the ground. Because he is slightly less cold than she, she gives up her sense of propriety and maneuvers herself as close to him as possible, even tucking her legs between his so she can warm her feet on his calves. He lets loose a grunt of displeasure at the contact from her icy toes, but makes no other comment. Any spark that might otherwise have been kindled at this close bodily contact is thoroughly doused by the overwhelming cold.

"Sleep," he tells her silently through their strange connection, but she is already succumbing to unconsciousness and exhaustion.

At one point during the night she wakes. Her back has warmed considerably due to her contact with Kylo, but her front and her face are still clammy and cold. Squirming around she rotates so that she is facing him, and without any shyness, presses her face into his neck, her legs straightened and trapped between his as she now wraps an arm around his ribs and presses her chest to his. He responds, whether asleep or awake she is unsure, by hugging her closely. Breathing in the scent of his skin, she lets out a small sleepy sigh of contentment as she falls back asleep.

Rey is woken sometime later by Kylo's movement. He has rolled over so that his back is to her, and she finds herself jealously pressed against it. While she is not particularly warm or comfortable, she no longer feels as though she may die of the cold and her whole body feels incredibly stiff. He has the light on and he is looking at the chronometer on the nav system.

"It's light out," he says, and he moves away from the makeshift bed.

At the ventilation hole, he pushes his arm through to widen the hole, then peers out. He nods.

"Time to go," he says. "Dry your clothes as best you can on the blanket and get dressed."

She complies, rolling her damp clothes in the blanket and wringing it aggressively to try and coax out some of the moisture, as the garments have dried very little in the damp borough. He is silent as she passes him back his coverall, and she studiously ignores him as she dresses. If she turns to look at him, and finds him watching her, she knows she will blush and so she does not look. Soon she is dressed in her cold damp clothes, but putting her suit back on helps, and her restored body heat helps to fill the suit. He is suited up as well, and they come forth from their cave.

The snow has stopped falling and the sun is out. She feels nearly blinded by the brilliance of the light scattering on the snow, her eyes tearing. It's cold of course, but not as bad as yesterday. He starts slogging through the snow without further comment, the tarp of items slung across his back.

Again, fortunately, the terrain is mostly flat, and they make decent time, covering the remaining distance in less than four hours. But on their final approach a growing sense of dread consumes her. There's nothing there. And when they arrive, they are still standing in the midst of an empty plane, and there is still nothing there. They are lost.

"Is this it?" she asks, hoping that they have stopped for some other reason.

In response Kylo slams the tarp and its contents to the snow, and let's out a roar of rage. He then throws the nav as far as he can and shouts again, falling to his knees he begins pounding his fists vainly in the snow. Rey gives him a harsh look, then runs after the nav, hoping it won't be lost in the snow, keeping her eyes fixed on the spot where it landed.

As Kylo continues his tantrum, Rey finds the nav easily. She breathes a sigh of relief as she picks it up. Looking back at Kylo for a moment, she sighs again, then turns her attention to the nav. According to it they are at their destination, it doesn't look like any kind of error or transposition. Walking back to Kylo, she examines the different menus on the device, but without a satellite system around the planet or the scanners of the ship, the device is pretty limited.

And the ground gives way beneath her.

She lets out a scream, but the fall isn't far, only a few meters. A shaft of light pierces the darkness of the tunnel she has fallen into, lighting her fallen body like a jewel in a display case. Bits of snow and dust mingle in the shaft of sunlight. She stirs to look around, willing her eyes to adapt to the darkness.

"Are you injured?" Kylo's voice calls down from the hole above her, his head visible in it, a dark stain against the bright sky.

"Yes," she says, attempting to stand and stopping, "but its minor. An ankle sprain. I should be able to walk on it once it's splinted."

"Good," says Kylo, and drops in the tarp of supplies then leaps with deadly grace from the gap to land next to her.

Her eyes are adjusting and she can see that they are in a long curving corridor, with other corridors branching off of it at intervals. Kylo takes a few paces in one direction, shining the light about, then the other.

"Well scavenger, we're in your world now. Which way?"

"What do we need first?" Rey asks, still sitting on the ground.

"Fuel for a fire, and a good place to start one, such as a moderately sized room and a way to vent the smoke. Then we need food, power, and a ship," he says, glancing around them. "But I'm not feeling very optimistic about the last item."

"Let's try that way," she says, pointing down one of the ends of the corridor.

"Why that way?"

"Well, it doesn't really matter which way first, but look at these conduits here," she points at the ceiling. "We should be able to follow them to a power station of some kind. And we'll probably find our fuel for fire along the way."

"Very well," he says, and he offers her a hand.

She takes it suspiciously, and he helps her to her feet, but she can't put weight on her injured ankle.

"Take this," he says handing her the light. "I'll carry you on my back."

He turns his back to her, and she awkwardly scrambles aboard, wrapping her legs about his waist, holding the light for him to see. He crouches down to pick up the tarp package with their existing supplies. It's tied into a sling and he loops it over her good leg above the knee, suspending it there, before returning that hand to support her. Then he starts walking.

To Rey, the journey is rather magical. She has been digging in hidden places for treasure her entire life, and here is a brand new vista of opportunities. Who knows what could be hidden here? Maybe even one of the original X-wings? If the stories are true, this base was cleared in a hurry when the Empire discovered its location and attacked, and there were probably untold numbers of exciting and useful items here. She could make a fortune if she were back on Jakku!

The thought of Jakku brings her up short, and she remembers where she is. This is not some exciting treasure hunt, it's a fight for survival at the mercy of a murderer who may either kill her or seduce her, and she is not even certain which would be worse. But in a way, she's always been fighting for survival, scrounging in the sand for enough parts to feed herself. In a way, this is no different.

Chapter 3: Slippery slopes.

They have been walking for about an hour when they find the hangar bay. Rey gasps with delight, unable to contain herself. Its high ceiling is curved like a cathedral, though collapses here and there have let in the snow. And there are some ships. Rey can hardly contain her excitement. There are signs that the prior occupants departed in a hurry, small movers abandoned in the middle of thoroughfares, tools and equipment strewn about, some of it smashed.

"This is excellent!" she says. "And there should be a small equipment locker and an office space for the hangar manager around here somewhere. We can use one of those for our sleeping space. There should be plenty of things to burn scattered about here. And if I can get one of those movers to work, we can easily widen our search radius. And you won't have to carry me."

"That will be a relief," he says drily, heading in the direction she indicates for the possible office.

It is there and it is small, but this is ideal for keeping a space warm. He sets her down.

"See if there are any additional medical supplies here," he says, setting down next to her what supplies they have. "I'll go find fuel for a fire. Then we'll bind your ankle so you won't be useless."

Rey casts him a dark look, but he is already walking away.

She doesn't find any medical supplies, but there are numerous useful tools, things that will help her with repairs, and parts as well. There are small items that will make good kindling for a fire, papers mostly, and she assembles them in a central location. She is sorting and organizing them, creating a mental inventory, when Kylo returns with broken pieces of furniture.

"I found the barracks," he says. "Once we've finished with you, we can return there to collect bedding."

Using the kindling she has collected, he soon has a moderately sized fire going. Watching the smoke curl up about the ceiling he comments on needing so set up a ventilation system.

"But that can wait," he says. "It's time to deal with you."

She has been sitting as near as she dares to the fire, feeling it warm her, enjoying the sensation of the heat and the pleasure of the vibrant flames. Now she feels something in her stomach tighten as he moves close to her.

"Show me," he says, and she extends her leg so he can examine the twisted ankle.

He removes her boot and sock, his hands warm now on her cold skin. He probes and bends the wounded joint, and he nods seriously when she gasps in pain.

"I agree with your assessment," he says. "I'll splint it, and you should be able to walk on it gingerly. Did you find any medical supplies?"

Rey simply shakes her head.

He sighs.

"Hopefully we find something in the barracks," he says, digging through their limited kit. And he sets about splinting her ankle.

To have him tending her like this gives Rey an uneasy sensation. Less than a day ago he was threatening to take her life. She watches him warily, feeling something tightening in her stomach as his hands move, strong and efficient as they tie the bindings. Now that she is no longer fighting for her life against the elements, her body seems to waking anew to its desire for him. Trying to tamp it down, she looks away from him, staring at the ceiling and trying to think of something else.