"He claims it's always been part of your basic training," Kylo said, standing across your room. His voice was strained and he wore a look of pure disgust as he spoke. "He claims that you simply forgot the severity of it after slacking off for a week and a half."
You scoffed, "As if people will believe-"
"Some do."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"
"Lucielle, for one," he said. "Your mother. Your father."
"Of course," you sighed. "Wait - my father? How is he - I thought he was sick in bed, unable to even speak."
Your fiance raised his shoulders in an exhausted shrug. "I don't know."
You dropped your head, your hair falling off your shoulder. You couldn't believe that your own family was taking your step uncle's side. Of course, there was no love in your family, but there was common sense - or so you thought. You moved your hand to rest your head on it.
"Careful," he said, taking a step forward. He reached out and stroked his fingers down the side of your head. "Don't pull out your stitches."
You lifted your chin, looking up at him. His fingers brushed against your jawline.
He inhaled deeply and took his hand back. He stepped away.
"What do we do?" you asked. "How do my own people not believe me? Am I not their future queen?"
"I will consult the Supreme Leader," he said. "I wonder how he will feel knowing that the Force user he chose was pressed up against a wall with a hand against her throat."
You tucked your hands under your legs. "I don't remember that being part of my training."
Kylo neared you again. Although he did not touch you, he said softly, "Things will be okay, princess. I promise."
You bit down on your lip softly and shook your head. "Ever since you got here... things have been odd. I feel like I have lost control. Something is different inside of me."
Kylo stared at you. With a hiss, the doors opened.
Lucielle stepped inside, looking shocked when she saw Kylo. She jumped back slightly, then smiled.
"Oh," she said, "Commander, what are you doing alone with the princess? I figured this was against the rules."
"Under the circumstances, this is not," you spat.
"Hm." She looked Kylo up and down, then smirked. "How are you feeling, sister? Training got a little rough today, I see."
"That wasn't training, and you know it. He was trying to kill me, and you are letting the attempted murderer of your future queen march freely." You rose off of your bed and stood tall.
"I will have to see actual proof of this," she said, and she walked out.
You sighed, collapsing back on the bed.
Kylo seemed troubled. "I should go. I must consult with the Supreme Leader."
"Oh," you said, then you dropped your voice to a whisper. "Will you come back tonight?"
"I suppose, but you are very weak. Save your strength-"
"No. Actually come. Just sit here with me."
He paused, swallowed, and looked away.
You tilted your head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."
"No, I will," he said. He closed the space between you and him, barely brushing his fingers against your jawline. "I have spent forever away from you. I am tired of that."
"Me, too," you said. You searched his eyes. "I wish I could remember you, Ben Solo."
"I wish that, too."
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head and gazed at you with soft concern. "Don't be." Bringing his hand away from your face, he said, "I should go now."
"I'll see you tonight?"
"You will," he said. "You'll feel me when I am close."
"Okay." You watched after him as he left your room, nodding at your guards as he passed.
Alone, watching your door softly pull shut, you sighed deeply, and you prepared to call in your chambermaids so they could assist you with a bath and help you change into one of your nightgowns.
/ / /
You did feel Kylo when he returned. It was nearing midnight, and you were sitting at the middle of your bed, your knees up against your chest. Your long nightgown was pooled at your feet - a cascading ocean of ebony silk.
When Kylo snuck into your room, he had used the Force to turn your guards away. He slipped in unnoticed, and you smiled when he stood in your room.
The cloak from his shoulders was no gone. He wore the shirt and pants, with his boots and gloves. He approached you slowly, then sat on the edge of your bed. He just looked at you.
Eyes wet and soft, you tilted your head. "Do you believe that my sister could have made a better queen than me?"
He shook your head. "No one could ever be half the woman you are," he assured you.
You smiled a little, looking down at the end of your dress.
"And I would never marry your sister, not for any crown or title," he said, half joking.
It made you laugh, which was what you needed. You looked back at him and shook your head. "You know, you didn't scold me when I called you Ben Solo."
"I don't think I could scold you for anything," he admitted. He was smiling now, too - and it warmed your heart in a way you hadn't felt in a long time. "Certainly not that."
"Do you miss being him?"
He shook his head. "No. But I do miss being there with you."
"Yeah?"
"It seems much simpler, hiding from my uncle and a bunch of kids, rather than hiding from an entire palace full of people that can commit treason freely."
You laughed. "My whole kingdom is a joke, isn't it?" You shook your head in disappointment.
"Only the unfair parts of it."
"That's all of it," you muttered.
"No, not all of it. Not the part of it that brought us together again."
Your mouth lifted - once more - into a smile. "I suppose you're right, then." You reached over and touched the top of his hand. He flipped it over on the bed, and your hand settled against his palm.
You stared at him, and he watched you. But it wasn't awkward, or strange. An overwhelming sense of calmness fell over you. You could not help but smile when it came to looking at him. There was a feeling of home that rested within the man you sat next to.
And you remembered, deep inside, the same feeling resting in another man you once knew.
"Ben," you whispered, moving closer. He watched you as you sat down next to him, your hip against his. You intertwined your fingers, grabbed the inside of his arm with your other hands, and laid your head down on his shoulder.
Your eyes closed. He froze for a brief moment before he melted slightly, eyes always on you.
When you lifted your head, he moved his hand to the small of your back.
"Princess," he breathed.
You eyebrows lifted and you fell into a sort of daze. In your daze, you could remember blurry images of Ben - the old Ben - holding you gently in his arms, stealing gentle kisses and planting some on your rosy cheeks while you both hid behind the Jedi temple.
He rose to his feet. You followed.
He turned towards you, movements ever so slow and gentle and calculating.
You could no longer breathe - alarmed and taken aback by the feeling swelling up inside of you, the swirl of emotions coming off of Ben, and of the memories threatening to return. They were right on the surface, prepared to break through. Memories of you and your favorite Jedi boy - that young boy you loved so long ago.
His hand pressed against the small of your back. He tipped you backward only slightly as he leaned down. Your shaking arms dangled at your sides. His movements were so slow, and you appreciated his apprehension to this - but you shut your eyes, parted your lips - and waited impatiently.
Your doors flew off of their hinges not even half a second later, and four guards stormed into the room.