16. Chapter 16

Master Snoke’s power is asphyxiating, trapping him in his head with nothing but the feeling of being crushed to death. No Force. No Rey. If not for the slow agonizing breaths, the blood pounding in his head, Kylo Ren wouldn’t even know if he were still alive.

A white hot flare of arousal ignites in his veins, a savage ache that shoots straight to his groin as he feels the girl concentrate on him. The vision, pushing him over, straddling his lap, tearing his helmet off, tasting her mouth against his as her fingers thread through his hair shears through the imposed deprivation as though it’s gossamer and he can’t strangle a soft, tortured groan.

His master pulls back the darkness and Kylo slumps under the weight of their connection crashing back into his mind. Every pain, every humiliation, every bit of yearning and denial is up for display, raw and exposed to Rey’s examination. She feels the same, he can tell. He can taste the blood on her tongue and he gulps, trying not to vomit.

Lord Snoke dismisses the girl and Kylo sighs, focuses on the herculean task of breathing, and he listens to the sounds of Rey rise and slowly walk away. Her eyes burn where they linger on him and he wants her gone . From this room, this world, this galaxy, if that’s what it takes to be rid of her. What will happen to the bond if one of them dies? Will it terminate, a clean separation? Leave something aching, hollow empty behind in his head? Will it end them both together?

He doesn’t care.

His lord sits silent on his throne as Kylo masters himself, emptying his mind, centering himself on the physicality of the sensations around him. He feels the sweat dripping into his eyes beneath the mask, feels the hard, cold basalt slab under his knees, feels the power of the supreme leader’s voice rooting him in place. These awarenesses are all that keep him together. He cannot let his mind wander to the girl waiting outside, cannot reflect on the trial endured. If he does he will simply shatter.

“The girl certainly has a peculiar skill set, wouldn’t you agree, my apprentice?” Lord Snoke’s eyes are fixed on the sealed door behind him.

He doesn’t dare unpack that time bomb, so he kneels and tries to think only of his complete and total commitment to success in their endeavor. No conflict, no independent thought, just the Order and his subservience. “As you say, my lord.”

Lord Snoke taps a finger against his scarred lips, still staring into the gloom behind Kylo. “A Jedi apprentice without even the barest training in mental defenses. Tell me: Why would Luke Skywalker refuse to teach the girl such a thing, one who has fought the darkness hand to hand?”

“I cannot understand why Luke Skywalker does anything, master.” He doesn’t understand this line of questioning either, but keeps that thought hidden.

“Perhaps he thought she had sufficient abilities to defend herself against you without training.” The twisted mouth curves in mockery.

“Evidently he was wrong,” Kylo grits out with bitter spite. “If we fought again, there would be no question.”

Lord Snoke snorts. “That will be an amusing day, I have no doubt. Skywalker is no chessmaster, but even he would not risk his last piece on the board without a reason. He would know what the death of Han Solo meant. He would expect you to only grow in strength while he taught our little star naught but meditation and the forms you learned as a sprout. To what end? That is my question.” The long pale fingers tap a slow rhythm against the stone arm of his chair, then the contemplative musing is replaced with iron command. “Report to me on your progress with the girl.”

Kylo jerks his head up at that despite himself. “You appear to be perfectly informed on my progress.” He grates out, wondering how badly the last twenty minutes had ruined that progress.

Snoke gives him a disgusted look. “You sat in a library. You slept in a bed. You had a messy human dream.”

“That’s a gross over simplification,” Kylo objects, propelled to his feet by his outrage “The girl was beginning to trust my guidance. I showed her the power of command, of exerting her will over the Force.” He struggles with how to explain the edge on which they had balanced. “After what we have subjected her to, that she was willing to let her guard down at all is significant. She has not been here a week and yet she is bending.” In a careful show of subservience he clasps his hands and bows his head. “It took Darth Sidious years to turn Darth Vader, and he was all the mightier for it.”

“You feel compassion for her.” Master Snoke frowns, voice heavy with distaste. “We have reviewed this particular weakness of yours at great length, my apprentice. Will you insist we revisit it again?”

Kylo grimaces at the recollection of those punishing  lessons. The torment had gone on for days after he recovered from the duel on Starkiller to endure it. “It is an objective analysis, my lord. Her suffering is nothing to me.” He fights to keep his voice neutral, to give no voice to his rising temper.

Master Snoke gives him a skeptical look at that claim, but does not question it aloud. “Yet your suffering is something to her. She thought to save you pain with her interference. There are many who would let themselves be swayed by that kindness. Or,” he pauses, tiling his head to the side and narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “by a soft touch.”

“I am stronger than that, lord!” He is, he has to be , has to hold tight to that unconditional conviction, or all is lost.

“You had better be.” Lord Snoke says, voice flat. “We are at war, Kylo Ren, and I must have a strong right hand.” For a moment it looks like he’s going to continue, but with a quick shake of his head he returns to their earlier conversation.

“I appreciate the subtle arts of seduction, as you well know, but years are a luxury we cannot afford. With the droid firmly in the hands of the Resistance, the girl is our only lead on Skywalker’s whereabouts. By the time the week is out, I will have Skywalker’s location from her. Whether she’s in any form to be converted to our cause afterwards is entirely up to you.”

The remembrance of his past failure stings and provokes Kylo’s already seething temper to eruption. “That conversion would have been easier without involving her in this exercise.”

He can recognize, as the words leave his tongue, a moment too late, that he’s reached the end of Snoke’s patience. A vise squeezes tight around his throat. Force choking is its own unique pain, distinct from the more plebian methods of hand or garrote. He accepts it, powerless to resist, and lets the lightheadedness carry him until his master decides to desist.

“I am not here to ease your way,” Lord Snoke drawls and releases the hold with the smallest roll of his eyes. “You are not a babe, to have your hand held through the most elementary stratagems, but I will put to rest the fear you hold that what I have done today will sabotage our mutual agenda in the culmination of victory.” He gives Kylo an amused look. “Of course, if you have any other plots involving my little star, I can make no promises to their integrity.”

Any reaction to that would be a sign for Snoke to pounce, so Kylo simply nods and continues his careful physical assessment. Breathing, sweating, aching; those are the safest thoughts. “Thank you, master.” Another safe bet. Questioning Lord Snoke about the mutual benefit of the day's activities is unwise, even if would be more interesting and certainly more relevant than any thanks he can offer.

Lord Snoke scoffs at that. “Save your thanks, boy. False deference means nothing to me.  Better that you spend your energy swaying the girl if you wish to make some use of her down the line.”

The dismissal is clear in Snoke’s tone of voice and Kylo is relieved to be excused. Blood pounds a pulsing headache behind his eyes as he strides out of the cavern, arousal yielding to ire, frustration, and disgrace.

The task before him is insurmountable; he doesn’t believe Lord Snoke’s comment about it being a clever bit of engineering towards his end game. It’s possible that he’s being set up to fail, that Snoke’s true goal is for Kylo to fall, to break Rey apart, to rebuild her for his own nefarious purposes.

The idea is intolerable.

Kylo feeds on the fury that speculation gives as he nears the door to Snoke’ chamber. She’s on the other side, waiting for him. Her mind seethes in turmoil; a thousand different shades of pain, rage, shame, and concern roiling around, flowing into his conscious and subsuming his own thoughts as he draws close. The door slides open on his approach and then slams shut behind him. She stands a few feet down the hall from him, knees and elbows locked, trembling with barely contained energy as the Force swirls around her.

“Rey-”

Her eyes are too big, too bright, red rimmed in her pale face, and she holds herself as though she’s inches from falling apart. The look she shoots him is pure poison. “Don’t call me that! Don’t you dare! This is your fault!”

He won’t be hurt, can’t be, when his rage is energized by hers, makes him stronger. “You created this connection! You opened your mouth in there!” His voice rises uncontrollably and it feels euphoric to bleed this out in front of her. “You gave Snoke every single reason he needed to do what he did. You can’t pin that on me.”

Rey slashes out a hand at that, power ripping down her arm and chipping stone from the wall beside his head. He knows intimately that reckless, helpless need to lash out and hurt something. “You started this! There was no connection, no Force, until you dragged me back to your stupid ship and tried to force that stupid map out of my head!” Fisting her hands in her hair she tugs in frustration. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

The chips of rock clatter against his mask and Kylo shields himself from the next crackle of energy that spikes towards him, deflects it at and sends it sizzling down the hall. “Next you’re going to tell me that life’s not fair.” He sneers at her, power gathering around his clenched fist, screaming at him for an outlet. “Grow up!”

Rey balls her hands into fists by her side and throws back her shoulders, exposing herself to any attack he might dare. Baring her teeth at him in a grimace of animal rage, she taunt him, “What, like you did? Go through the motions, licking the shoes of a piece of shit monster that you hate? You’re hardly an example worth emulating. Or did killing Han Solo work out that well for you?”

He doesn’t think.  He acts. Lashing out with his hand, he throws her back several feet into the dark hallway. She lands hard on her back, and his aches where she absorbs the impact with a grunt before she bounds back toward him. He throws her again, pinning her in place as his whole body shakes from her verbal onslaught. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her eyes are bright and savage as she batters back against the restraining force. “You’re sure about that? It feels like I touched a nerve there. Are you going to tell me it was necessary to kill your father ? That Han Solo was weak and foolish, and you are so much better?” Her voice drips with sick loathing.

“You certainly seemed to think so.” Kylo doesn’t remember crossing the floor or grabbing her around her scrawny neck, but the touch ignites their connection, skittering on the edge of some terrible new insanity. “I felt it,” He growls, hands clasped firmly at her throat, bending closer to her ear. “You liked it. You liked digging around in my head like the little scavenger you are.” He drags her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes as the words force themselves out in short harsh pants. “You liked the power I showed you, and you loved that dream last night.” Her pupils dilate at the mention and he feels their connection thrum at the remembrance.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rey breathes, sliding her eyes shut as she seeks out that perfect calm center of the emotional storm. She relaxes and for a ridiculous, fool moment he thinks it is surrender and the triumph of a conqueror sings in his head.

He should have known better. The Force erupts from under her skin, shredding his control and throwing him back. The air whooshes from his lungs as he crashes to the stone floor and she’s on him, pinning his arms under her knees and pummeling him with her fists. “It was nothing! You are nothing!” Her hands scrabble against his mask until she finds the catch, tears it off him, and flings it aside. “I didn’t kill you the last time we fought, but I can change that now.” Her eyes are wild, burning with resolve as she makes the declaration in a quiet steady voice.

Her hands are small but strong as they clench at Kylo’s windpipe, and though she’s got his biceps under her knees he can just reach her skinny wrists to ease the pressure before it engulfs him. “Then what will you do? Spend the rest of your miserable existence under Snoke’s thumb?” He snarls the question, biting off the last two syllables.

“I will never work for that… that thing. ” Rey shifts her weight, struggling to break his hold on her arms and it gives him a sliver of opportunity. He jerks forward and off balances her so they’re nearly nose to nose once more.

“Then you’ll die here.” Kylo gives her a nasty grin, but it’s an empty gesture. “Sooner or later, he’ll get tired of playing with you, or one of the Knights will get you. There’s only one thing the Knights of Ren do with Light users. Care to guess what it is?”

“I am not going to die here,” Rey snarls, hiking her knee up. SHe grinds it into his diaphragm and is rewarded with a pained grunt.

“Right, that escape plan that you totally don’t have.” He’s tired of this fight, and flips her off of him with a jerk of his hips and an extension of his arms. Scrambling to his feet, he turns and faces her again.  Heavy boots clatter against stone in the distance, approaching, and he whips his head in the direction of the sound.

A lone Knight of Ren rounds the corner, helmeted head glancing between the two and lingering on Rey. “Everything all right, ‘Killer?” The Knight’s tone is heavy with irony on the nickname, pausing in mock deference before continuing, “I heard shouting.”

“Everything’s fine.” Kylo responds with a terse nod, not liking the attention the Knight pays to the girl standing at odds to him. “Go back to your rounds.”

“That’s the little Force user who stopped Gehanna from murdering your sorry ass in the arena, isn’t it?” He takes a step towards Rey. “What’s she doing here?”

Kylo takes moves in front of her to intercept the Knight, looming to his full height over the shorter man. “Audience with Master Snoke.”

The Knight glances at the fallen mask, up at Kylo, and then back to Rey. “Are you sure about that, brother? I think I should check in with Master Snoke. Just to be sure, you understand.”

“Perfectly.” He feels for the edges of the Knight's mind, finds it brittle but not sharp. Kylo tries to pad each word in a thick layer of Force, impress upon the Knight the importance of each syllable. "You will not go to Snoke. You will return to your rounds. You will forget you saw us. " He meets an unexpected resistance.

"Huh?" The Knight tilts his head to the side and turns towards him. It's not taking. Kylo has never been very good at this trick. His pulse spikes as he begins to lower himself into a fighting crouch.

Rey steps around him, her spine straight, her shoulders relaxed. "You will not go to Snoke," she says, and the Force rolls off her tongue, bends the Knight to her control. Her eyes are focused with bright, cold loathing on the man in gray armor. "You will return to your rounds."

Kylo joins his voice with hers to finish the order, powers harmonizing to seal the commands to the Knight's will. "You will forget you saw us.”

The Knight straightens and stares straight ahead. “I will not go to Snoke. I will return to my rounds. I will forget I saw you.” He pivots and walks off in a trance.

Kylo watches the retreat until the Knight is out of sight and then turns back to Rey.  He sighs. “So which part of the conversation were we on? Were you still threatening to kill me?”

Rey tilts her chin back and gives him a cold, regal look. “You were trying to convince me that I needed you to survive here. Obviously, I do not.”

Kylo leans to pick up his mask from the floor and tucks it under his arm. Rage still burns under his skin. He’s a pawn in this. He has never been anything but a toy for Snoke, who never planned for him to become strong, become great. Kylo sees this so clearly when he looks at her.

He reaches for the Darkness and it’s there, waiting. He was weak before, waiting to be shown the path to power, following where his master led, obeying without a thought in the stupid, pathetic hope that someday everything he’s given would be paid back in full as promised. The Dark Side has always known the path that needs to be walked and it opens before him, a simple, elegant route to power. To freedom . It’s the same path all Masters of his order have walked since the beginning, from the moment they became the Sith.

Nothing says he has to walk it alone.

Kill Snoke for twenty barren years of humiliation and pain, for endless sacrifices that bore him nothing but more sacrifice, more subjugation. Kill his master for having the audacity to bring this girl in as his replacement, to offer her nothing beyond that same eternal emptiness, and would break her apart because it’s convenient.

Kill Snoke for this girl who sometimes looks at him as though he’s more than nothing . The girl with what feels like infinite potential in Darkness and Light, a girl who responds to him, who is worthy of standing beside him as a conqueror.

Kill Snoke .

Her eyes widen. She meets his stare. Do you mean that?

It takes him a moment to realize she’s not speaking aloud. Mean what?

Kill Snoke.

Blood roars in his ears and Kylo flicks a glance to the closed door. “Come with me. You don’t have to trust me. You don’t have to like me, but, please.  Come with me.”