A Throne Amongst the Stars

Imperatrix Mea

[A/N: Hello my loves! I apologize for the long awaited update, but here it is, and I'm so excited for you all to read it. I've missed you all very much and hope that each of you are healthy and doing well. Without further ado, here is the next chapter. Warning: It's one [bleep] of a update. I love you all! -K 🖤]

[🌌 This chapter is extremely long, contains swearing, angst, saddening situations, and brief mentions of possible suicide.🌌]
***
Since the return of Poe to the Resistance Base and the revelation of King Daemon's untimely death, another again using week had passed.

Every day that passed without (Y/N) felt as if a century had trickled by, and Poe suffered as though he had spent an eternity without her.

If Poe had his way, he would have fled for Interitus as soon as he realized that his Princess wasn't safe. Unfortunately, there were powers above him that controlled his departure, which he wasn't exactly pleased with, but he didn't have the choice nor opportunity to disobey.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't function normally now that he knew the truth, as vile and conniving as it was.

While he spent weeks aimlessly drinking and spending currency to fill the ever-increasing void within him, she was experiencing unknown horrors and torture at the hands of an unknown adversary.

All because of him.

Poe huffed as he swung his fist into the punching bag once more. His knuckles were numb, even though he had wrapped them expertly with fabric strips beforehand. The bag creaked as it swung backwards, groaning under the abuse of his daily rampages.

He would spend hours in the training room, waiting for the moment when he would be cleared to leave for Interitus. It was a torturous process, as the Resistance attempted to complete as much recon as they could before sending Poe off into shadowed territory.

As much as no one wanted to admit it, they had no relieving updates or any imperative information about the Princess's whereabouts, or if she was even alive.

While the punching bag was slowly surrendering to his incessant hours of tribulation, Poe was only punishing himself.

This was all his fault.

He was the one who had delivered her to Interitus under the guise that she had safely returned home, and under the protection of her parents. He was to be blamed as now Interitus couldn't be reached for any transmissions or messages, and because no one could obtain any information on the beloved Princess.

Poe rapidly punched the swinging bag, breathlessly and filled with rage. After a brief moment, he grabbed the bag itself and slowed its maniacal movements. He leaned his sweaty forehead onto the bag, finally releasing a harrowing and pained sob.

"I'm so sorry..." He apologized to an empty training room, as no other Rebel could bear to suffer under his incessant hours of training and nights of Poe demeaning himself. His voice cracked under the heaviness of his words, not knowing if he'd ever see her again. If she would want to even see him again. "I'm so sorry, Princess..."

Poe sank to his knees as he gasped to regain his breath that was lost during his several-hour session fueled by self hatred. He glanced to his pulsing hands, now realizing that the once pristine wraps had been ripped to shreds and that his knuckles were bleeding from the trauma he incurred.

He sighed and positioned himself comfortably on the concrete floor, crossing his bent legs before him. He began to meticulously peel off the shredded remains of the once protective wrapping. A rapid trill caught his attention from the doorway.

"Hello, Dad. I've been searching for you. There is something I must tell you."

BB-8 hurriedly rolled into the training room, headed straight for an exhausted Poe. "Hey, buddy..." Poe greeted, smiling slightly as BB nudged his leg. He ran his hand over the droid's head before continuing his task at hand.