The Lady of Ren

Preface

 Kylo Ren doesn't bullshit his way through anything. Everything he does is carefully planned. He stands a certain way. He talks a certain way. He puts on his armor a certain way (he must put on his belt before he shrugs on his boots and, if he doesn't, he's in a sour mood for the rest of the day).

As his consort (companion? lover? wife?) it was your job to keep him in line. Snoke had made this entirely clear: "Your union with Ren is based on politics but you have abilities - as all women do. Keep him in check. Keep him balanced. You are his fuel."

It was a lot of pressure. The man was as wild as a Reek. There was no way you could possibly tame him. If his mother couldn't do it, you couldn't do it, right?

But of course, like all men, Kylo Ren is weakened by particular things.

One of them is sleep.

You had made sure that he was not to be woken up until his eighth hour. The two of you had seen a physician very recently and the doctor agreed with your input; Kylo simply needed more rest.

It was a challenge to get Kylo to see a doctor in the first place. He claimed he was far too busy to be interrupted by such an unnecessary thing. But fortunately Snoke took your side and Kylo Ren was to see a doctor.

The two of you visited separately on your terms. Your relationship with Kylo was diplomatic, not personal. You didn't feel intimate enough for him to be there.

You had been awake for a few minutes, now. Kylo stirred beside you. He was always very careful not to touch you in his sleep. You noticed that whenever you changed into your bed garments he looked away with a sharp look in his eyes. He was no man of intimacy.

Originally the idea hadn't bothered you. You knew the marriage would be based purely on mutual respect and nothing else. If there were to be sex it'd only be for creating offspring. You were fine with it.

That was until you saw him sleep.

It's funny, really. He looks so pure as he snores lightly through his mouth, his structured nose wiggling as he does. His freckles are soft, dotting constellations on his cheeks, his broad shoulders, and his forearms. His raven locks fall across his eyes, blowing slightly whenever he breaths too heavily. It kills you.

This time every day you watch him. No one can see the way you gaze at him or how you barely lift your fingers to touch him, only to decide against it. You have him to yourself for a couple minutes every day. You fantasize about what your child will look like and hope that he or she has his freckles and mouth.

It was in this part of the day when you really hated yourself.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a soft moan. The noise startles you. Kylo is waking up, his large hands reaching for his face.

His robotic arm slips over the silk sheets, its metal glinting in the light.

That's when you hike yourself out of the bed and pull on your dressing robe. You usually don't greet him in the morning until you deduce what mood he's in.

The pile of sheets moan again, the bones he has left cracking.

"Good morning," you risk. You fluff your head of (length) hair from underneath the robe and turn your neck towards him.

Kylo is sitting up. The muscles in his back weave themselves around his shoulder blades. Pink scars sprinkle against the taught skin. He turns only to slightly acknowledge your presence with a grumble.

Ah. Not exactly a bad mood. You've seen worse; he's woken up throwing things.

On your way to the refresher you grab your datapad that lies on an end table. You scroll through it, deleting files you've received during your sleep that you don't need. A brand new message from Hux blinks, bright red.

Kylo Ren is needed on the bridge. The message is from one hour ago. You sigh.

"Kylo," you say, setting the pad on the refresher counter.

He doesn't answer you.

"Kylo," you say again, more sternly this time.

You watch him stand up from the mattress. The sheet slips off and you blush, turning away from his bare chest. Kylo doesn't sleep entirely nude, but his sleeping shirtless has been recently adopted. You're not quite used to it. You clear your throat and walk into the main room.

"Hux needs you," you say, handing him the datapad. "It was delivered an hour ago."

Kylo rolls his dark eyes. "Of course he needs me." He starts for his clothes.

It'd be a lie if you said you weren't attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? His tall stance, his broad frame, his intense features...but one of the things you were ashamed of finding, well, handsome was the scar that traveled from his right cheek to the center of his forehead.

You supposed you liked it because it symbolized something you couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was power. Maybe it was strength. But whatever it was, it was making you too weak in the knees. You turn for the refresher again.

"(Y/N)," Kylo suddenly calls.

You freeze, your back turned from him. "Kylo?"

You hear the rustling of his belt. He doesn't say anything for a moment, so you continue to tend to your bath, drawing the hot water from the faucet. The mirrors fog and the room begins to grow muggy.

Right before you slip off your robe and dip your toe in the tub of water, Kylo says your name again. He stands right behind you, clad in uniform with the exception of his helmet.

"Gods, you scared me." You placed your palm to your chest. "What is it?"

He shifts his weight. "When will you be finished today?"

He sounds as though he's concentrating very hard to say the right thing. You notice his eyes wandering along your form. You gulp, blushing vividly.

"Finished with what?" you ask, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"Your duties. When will you be done?"

"The same time you will be, I imagine." You sigh, looking about the room. "I have a meeting with a few ambassadors today."

He knits his eyebrows together. "Who?"

"Tyth and Fan," you pause. "From Baleine."

Kylo nods and then straightens his back, his shoulders cracking as he does. His hand naturally grabs his rotater cuff and he winces in pain.

You respond instinctively by touching his arm. "When did that happen?"

Kylo stares at your hand on his forearm like it's a disease. You swallow hard and tear yourself away from him.

"It's nothing. Just a minor injury." He takes a few paces backwards. "Let me know when you're done for the day. I need to speak to you about something."

"Anything I should be concerned about?"

He shakes his head and you can tell he means it. "No. But it's important."

You tilt your head in submission. "I will."

Your partner (lover? husband?) turns on his heels for the door. But before he vanishes completely you whisper, "Kylo?"

You didn't mean for it to come out the way it did; so soft and tender. But it does. And he looks at you like he's just seen a ghost.

"What?" he sounds bored, but his eyes are confused.

You tear your gaze away from him, swimming a finger lazily in the bath water. "Be careful today," you mumble.

Whatever you may consider him to be (whether that be your husband? lover? friend? companion? or commander?) Kylo Ren's pair of chocolate colored eyes soften, his reply a simple silence.

He leaves without another word.