chapter eleven

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It was through an alarming set of nightmares that you realized the dangers of the galaxy you lived in. Everything you saw was incredibly, and horribly so, real. And as you were faced with dream after dream of flashes of terror, you wept.

They left you thrashing in your bed. You were whimpering, kicking your bare feet out from the tangle of the silk sheets and into the cold winter air. Your lips parted with every gasp, none of which calmed down your thumping heart.

Short, horrible glimpses of your worst fears. Your kingdom in flames, your hands covered in blood that wasn't your own. Someone you love being killed by a blade slashed through the torso and neck. Kylo Ren, robes torn, chest bleeding and dripping crimson on the blinding snow at his feet. His shaking hand wrapped around his lightsaber. His throaty scream of pain and anguish as he delivers a final blow to an enemy you cannot see.

In between, glimpses of hope and happiness and love. The queen's crown on your head. A soft orange emitting from beside you as your hand wraps around Kylo Ren's. His soft, gentle smile that was more of a smirk than anything. His warm brown eyes. The way his lips loved when he told you that he loved you. His hands touching your stomach, where it swelled as his child grew inside of you.

Your eyes opened slowly. You felt as if you had just fought your way through a real battle. Your limbs ached from squirming and your body was sticky with sweat. You huffed, exhausted and annoyed.

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself out of bed and yanked the top sheet off of the mattress. You balled it up and tossed it down at the foot of your bed.

Another sigh. You went into your small bathroom and quietly ran yourself a warm bath. You filled the tub with glittering, lavender colored bubbles that foamed and fizzed after they popped. You stripped yourself of your damp nightgown and your underclothes, and gently lowered yourself into the hot water.

It felt good to wash the sweat off of you. As you did so, it felt like you were washing away the dream away, too. That odd, random, almost too real dream.

Perhaps it was a Force vision.

Absurd. You were not Force sensitive, nor was there any chance that you could be. You had no Force users in your family, which proved to work well in your favor. Any Force user was considered more likely to be persecuted by the Order, given the chance of relations with the Skywalkers.

It was just a dream. A half horrible, half wonderful, completely odd dream, but a dream nonetheless. You had nothing to fear - you were not Force sensitive.

After a few long moments in your bath, you pulled yourself out. You dried yourself quickly and then dressed yourself in your underclothes. You didn't want to wear your nightgown again, so you slid in between your blankets without it.

Your hair was wet and piled up into a soppy mess on your pillow. You didn't mind the wet drips it left on your pillow as your eyes fluttered close and you began to drift back off, this time in a sleep free of any dreams at all.

It was blissful.

//

Hours later, as the suns began to rise and bring a new morning - the morning of your wedding, to be exact - you awoke to the frantic sound of knocking. The moment your eyes fluttered open, you were overcome with the nervous shooting of jitters through your veins. You practically launched yourself out of bed and threw open your chamber doors.

Standing in front of you was your entire team of dressers and maids. Marlo stood in front, holding your gown carefully in her arms so that it would not wrinkle. She was clearly overcome with joy and happiness. You grinned at her and wrapped her up in a quick hug.

"We must get to work, Princess," she said quickly, kissing your cheeks. "Are you ready for today?"

"I've been ready for a long time," you answered truthfully.

"That's what I like to hear, your majesty!"

First came your hair. It was still winter, and the snow was falling hard, therefore, your hair was piled on top of your head in an elegant updo, and you were given a shawl to wear over your dress. The material was almost net like; to keep you from getting cold and wet from the snow, but also to keep your dress and face visible.

Your face was painted lightly with makeup. Different shades of pink on you cheeks, making you look like you were constantly blushing. A dusting of brown over your eyelids, the color of the dry dirt in your garden. A brush is run through your eyelashes, making them longer and darker. You look more than perfect when they slip you inside of your wedding gown.

The cool fabric against your flesh makes your cheeks burn bright. You gaze at yourself in the mirror and smile at the gasps coming from your chambermaids. Two of them help you into your shawl. As it is perfectly on you, Marlo approaches with the crown of your kingdom.

The metallic headpiece, small, yet shimmering with every catch of light, gleamed as Marlo placed it on top of your head. She pulled the hood of the shawl over you, and then kissed your forehead.

"Thank you, Marlo," you whispered, eyelashes growing wet. You did not want to run your makeup. "For everything you have done."

"Thank you, my princess, for giving me such joy in watching you grow," she said gently.

"You look beautiful, Princess ___," the youngest chambermaid said.

You turned towards her and smiled. "Thank you."

Marlo placed her small hands into yours. Your grip was icy cold; it shocked you that you were actually nervous. You didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of your kingdom.

"It's time," she whispered, and you smiled.

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