Royal Negotiations [Kylo Ren x Reader]

chapter thirteen

"Kylo... Kylo! She's coming - I can't... I can't-"

He gripped your hand tightly. "You can do this," he said, wiping sweat from your red face. "Just a little bit longer, Princess, and then we will all be okay. We will all be here."

"No," you mumbled quickly, pausing to cry out as a violent shudder overtook your body. "No, something is wrong."

He looked at the nurse in a panic. "She... she needs help! She needs the baby out now!"

"We can't do anything right now," said the nurse, and she shook her head. "She needs to push."

"No," Kylo said quickly. Your hand was growing limp in his. "She's too weak to do it on her own."

"She has to do it, Commander," the nurse said urgently. "It's too late to try it any other way."

He looked at you with panicked eyes. "Okay," he breathed to you, cupping your face in his hands. You sobbed as he tried to reassure you. "You're doing so great right now, Princess... just a little bit longer. We just need you to push a little bit longer."

You nodded. You tightened your exhausted grip and squeezed your eyes shut. As you pushed, Kylo watched your face. He held you tightly.

Finally, the nurse reached down and scooped up a small red thing in her hands. Kylo straightened his back and tried to get a glimpse of his newborn child, only to feel your hand slip from his and your eyes to water.

"She's too still," you cried. "Kylo... she's too quiet. Is she alright?"

He didn't know what to say. He watched the nurse place the still, silent baby on the cart. Nothing happened. His world can't to a halt when he turned, eyes red, and saw you fading away.

"No," he said quickly, gripping your hands. "___, you have you stay with me. Princess. Princess! Please, don't... don't go!"

With a light swoosh, your breath slipped out of you. Your head fell in an unnatural position on the table. He slumped forward, his chest heavy with anguish and disbelief.

He was alone.

                            ...

He woke with a gasping breath. His eyes popped open and his fingers clawed at the bedsheets underneath him. He pushed himself off the bed, tears sliding down his cheeks.

A slight grunt came from the other side of the bed, and he became aware of reality. A rush of calmness swept over him, only to be replaced with the realization of the reoccurring dream.

He touched your shoulder. Your were on your side, facing away from him. You were snoring softly, like you always did, and you were in a deep sleep.

He pressed his face to the crook of your neck, breathing down the scent of your hair in large amounts. You stirred, annoyance creeping into your grunts as you turned your head towards him slightly. Eyes closed and half asleep, you tried to make sense of the situation.

"Kylo?"

He glanced up.

"Kylo, why are you up?"

"I am sorry for waking you, love," he breathed, his fingertips dancing across your bare arm.

"'S'okay," you assured him sleepily. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he choked. "Just go to back to sleep."

You nodded and turned away from him again. He watched you for a while, eyes heavy with dried tears.

Then he pulled away, forcing himself out of bed and to the adjoining room. It was empty in there; a place he used for his own training, meditation, and anger.

As soon as he stepped inside and the door slid shut, he pressed his palms to his eyes. His body curved forward as several long, breathless sobs racked his chest and spine.

"Please," he begged, "don't take her away from me. Don't give her the same fate as my grandmother - don't bring me to anguish like my grandfather."

He needed to seek Supreme Leader Snoke for guidance. He was weak, vulnerable, and therefore, useless. The Supreme Leader would only be disappointed in him.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted to no one in particular, dropping his hands and shaking his head. "I don't know how to help her... how to fix this..."

He ran his fingers through his dark locks of hair. He tugged roughly at the ends, yanking out strands and tangles alike. He was growing angrier. He was so helpless in this situation.

Would he be forced to lose the only person he had allowed close to him? Would he have no choice but to watch you die on the table, one baby silent ten feet away from him, and another inside of you, unable to breathe?

There had to be something he could do. Anything.

The Force worked in mysterious ways. It didn't guarantee your safety, nor anyone's; but it did guarantee a chance. As long as Kylo remained loyal, there was always a chance.

That did not feel convincing enough to satisfy him. He was still fighting against his head, his anguish turning into raw anger.

He shot up on his feet. He reached for the lightsaber on his belt and yanked it, igniting it all in one move. With a yell, he unleashed all of the stress and anger on the already destroyed wall.

He slashed the weapon against the wall again and again, yelling and cursing and pleading, both in his mind and out loud. The pain was evident in his voice, and when he heard a soft knock on the door, he grew still. All in an instant.

"Kylo?" he heard you say. "Kylo, what is it? What's happened?"

He turned off the lightsaber and sucked in a deep breath. "Nothing, Princess."

"That didn't sound like nothing," you insisted. "Just open the door, please. I'm worried for you."

He hesitated. He glanced at the smoke coming off of the recently destroyed wall. You would wonder what was wrong, and no amount of reassurance on his part could make you stop worrying.

"Kylo," you said again.

"You shouldn't be up, Princess," he said a little harshly. "Just go back to bed. I don't need you to worry about me."

From the other side of the door, you flinched. His tone was cold and distant.

"Okay. Sorry," you said, your tone sad. You turned and walked away.

Kylo fell against the wall, his arm burning with exhaustion. He was full of regret and fear and sadness, all built up in his chest. He held a hand over his mouth as he began to cry shaky tears.