Desecration (Kylo Ren x Reader Medieval AU)

Your Mind Wanders?

It could have been much worse. There could have been no business at all this week, but God was casting his magical financial light on your family this time around. You had seventeen gowns to hem this week. Your fingers were already feeling the brunt of the work after pushing the needle through gown five. 

It could have been like that one winter where you only hemmed just over fifteen gowns. That was brutal, and you were fairly certain that was the closest you had ever been to starvation. 

Of course, many were much less fortunate than you and your family. You were lucky enough to be just one level above peasantry–an unfortunate and sad place to be. Being that your dad's textile shop was the only one on this side of the hill (the side closest to the king's estate), you ate very well. Except for those shitty winters. You had every reason to be happy, every reason to give grace and thanks to God, for all of his beautiful blessings that he had bountifully bestowed upon your name. But often...you didn't feel that way. 

"Are you almost through for the day?" a light voice called from the door behind you. 

Startled, you jumped, looking behind you to see your father's face peering from around the corner. Relieved, you smiled, nodding your head as you pulled the needle through the bottom of the silk blue dress for the final time for the day. 

"Yes, this is my last. I'll be home shortly after you," you assured him. There was a twinge of worry in his eyes. You knew it was because of the extreme lack of help at home. In the last two years, three of your sisters had died, leaving only two brothers and yourself to help your mother at home. Plus, you had to help at the textile shop. It was a lot, but you had no other obligations. You weren't a wife, and for that you were thankful. The idea of marriage was a terrifying one for you, and because your dowry was so lackluster, there was little chance of it happening for quite some time. 

"Good. Your mother needs you," his face softened. 

"I know." You sealed up the final stitch and turned to face him. He walked into the room, suddenly looking excited, as if he had remembered something.

"I had some extra time this morning. And some extra fabric," his cheeks rose as he stepped across the room, reaching into a closet and digging around. "I made you a new gown. You can wear it to the mass tomorrow." 

He pulled back, holding a stunning dusty pink velvet gown. It was a classic princess style, much like the ones he made for the noblewoman Rey Palpatine. Her dresses were always your favorite to fix up, and you were always thrilled when she would come into the shop. The neckline was higher than you dreamed about, but it was beautiful, and the corseting ribbon details on the bodice were stunning. You pressed your hand to your chest.

"It's perfect, father. I love it so much," you smiled at him. This was the true perk of living as a craftsman's daughter. Free gowns pretty much monthly. 

"Of course. You need something special for the late mass. The courts will be there," he shifted on his feet, looking out the window. "I'm on my way now. See you at home."

You waved goodbye to him and finished up everything you needed to in the shop, leaving not too long after your father, dress in hand. The walk back to your parents' home wasn't far, just a few minutes away, situated right at the bottom of the hill on a small bit of land–just enough for the gardens and stables needed to sustain your family. Your home was nice but very modest. The thatched roof was glazed with moisture, the ground muddy from recent weather challenges. You walked through the door, immediately greeted by the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen and the sound of your brothers getting into some kind of mischief in another room. 

Your mom was standing over the hearth, cooking a cabbage stew with great concentration. She was biting her lip as she stirred the mixture, and you looked over her face. She was a truly beautiful woman given her hard life. She had birthed eight children, worked all her life on the homestead, and had always given her all to her vocation as a caretaker. You helped her as much as you could, but you truly hated the drag of domestic duties. It didn't suit you. But you would never let that be known.