Ordered

Chapter 23 - In Which Ren Begins Rey's Training

(Chapter Rating: T)

Outside the hovel Rey saw the man in question approach.

Without warning, he pushed a twisted, wet branch into her arms. She didn't have time to blink.

His face was solemn. "Fight me."

She naturally moved the branch to one hand, getting a feel for it. It was short and lighter than her staff, but solid. Nearly the size of an ignited lightsaber.

His lips lifted. When he found it on the beach, he knew it was perfect for her.

Yet, her face was horrified.

He wanted to laugh but his face remained even. He'd snuck up on her. This was already too enjoyable, his first padawan.

"You never dreamed we were destined to dance in battle again?" He raised his own branch, ready to strike.

She remained completely still, eyeing him cautiously. Her mind was a steel trap.

"You wound me. If I'm going to train you before Luke returns, we have to begin the Trial of Skill. Now."

"Train me?" How did he know? She'd only headed home a moment ago.

"You think Skywalker is the only one who knows everything?" He hated that his tone was turning bitter. Envious. It was what it was.

Her other hand flew to her hip. "I've decided to take a few lessons. If I can trust you. So I can help Luke."

He was eager. "Good, good. Let's fight." He couldn't help but grin as he bowed his head to her. Excited determination filled his eyes. In this moment, he was nearly boyish again.

He swung first and she blocked him. It was wrong, but he couldn't resist. Straight-faced he added, "If I win, you'll call me Master."

She hit back. Hard. "You're incorrigible! Luke never asked me to call him that."

"It is the correct, proper, and historic title of one who teaches another the ways of the Force. If it bothers you so, don't lose."

"Argh!" She was mad now. He would see if it made her strong or weak. She aimed for his head, his knee, his shoulder, seeking an opening. Even with one eye, he knew what she would do. She wasn't focused. It was too easy. Like this, he could fight her blind.

"I'm not some fifthly raider from Jakku," he hissed on the offense. "And this time, I'm not conflicted and bleeding." He struck her shoulder. It might have been cruel, but she had to learn this lesson. She would get hurt. "You've got to try harder if you want to help."

Full of anger, she jeered for his wrists. So, she wanted to knock the stick out of his hands? A clever tactic, but it wouldn't work.

"Easy, Rey. If you want to stay on the side of the light, you'll have to lose the anger."

She tried again. He realized she was nearly as persistence as he was, another thing he liked about her. But persistence was no match for skill and focus. He took a large step backwards, swung, and knocked the limb from her hands. It flew in the air and bounced off the ground, yards away.

"You're dead," he frowned.

She ran from him. Yelling behind her, "That's not fair. It's not really a lightsaber."

He froze her in place, mid-run. He could feel her panic, the old memories of their past encounters. But she had to learn another lesson. She had to know her pretty face and brown eyes would not charm every enemy. Mistakes were life and death.

Strolling to her side, he leaned into her face. He held his stick, poking it gently into her side. "If I didn't care for you, I could kill you right now."

She was trying to fight it. Someday, she had the potential to be as powerful as Skywalker. But for now, she was cutting her teeth.

Speaking of which, he suddenly wondered, "Where is the Skywalker lightsaber?"

"It belongs to Luke," she lied.

"It actually belongs to me," he finally allowed the bitterness overtake his voice. "He gave it to my mother, who gave it to me when I entered his academy."

His explanation made Rey hate lying. She hadn't meant to, it was only, he couldn't know it was still on the island. Hidden. She wanted to trust him. But she couldn't deny the vile doubt in her mind. The mental picture of Kylo Ren waiting to take revenge on Luke again. Holding her hostage. Going back to the First Order. She had to wait.

"He gave it to you," Ren murmured. "Regifting uncle."

She had to guard herself better. Close away those thoughts. She was sorry, but obviously if he missed it so much, it wouldn't have ended up in the hands of Maz Kanata. In a box. In a basement. Strangely calling for Rey to find it.

He waved his palm, allowing her to move again. "Keep it." He stepped away and picked the twisted branch off the ground. "Consider it...a wedding gift, from a friend."

It was impossible not to think of that night at the mention of a wedding gift. The way he said it, the word was heavy, traced with sorrow and longing. Her mind filled with images. The gown he wanted her to wear. The blood. The food and drink. Watching him, trying not to watch him, undress. His lips. His tongue on her. The feel of him. His arms around her. He was full of ruthless power, his words often stung, and yet, he made trifles like wedding presents seem important. As though, their circumstance could be ordinary. She was so lost in thought she almost didn't hear him.

"Say it...," his gaze was simmering into her.

Able to move again, she stretched her arms, and watched as he called her branch to his hand. Still staring at her, he held both the sticks at his side. He meant to keep them, to treat them as makeshift weapons. To train her with the only tools available to him. His keen enthusiasm was commendable. Yet, feeling weary, she knew it was better to keep silent.

He beckoned her to walk home with him. "We'll try again tomorrow. Go back and reflect on what you did wrong. Work on your focus. Now say it. I won."

She couldn't believe he was serious. It was an outrageous thing to demand. No one used that term anymore.

"I accept that you are my teacher. I realize the correct, proper, and historic title. But if you make me use it, the deal is off." With a curt nod of her head, she ran past him. Not looking back.

Ren watched her go. It wasn't exactly the way he'd imagined the moment. She had seen to that. But for now, he'd take what he could get.