Into the Grey

Prologue

A/N: So, I posted this on ff.net a bit ago and thought I would go ahead and put it up here as well.  I have not written fanfic for a very, very, VERY long time. Having said that. I have a lot of time on my hands these days. Have seen TLJ twice in the past week alone (3 times total) and on account have obviously have a plot bunny nagging me over my rekindled love/lust for Kylo Ren (because who can resist really...just so much yes to everything). Anyways ... slightly self conscious my rusty writing skills and my slightly rusty comprehension of timeline from time to time ... It's probably time to rewatch TFA and I'm also not as well versed in the canon as a whole outside of the movies (I know a small amount but not much and I'm just dying to write....so with that in mind a little leeway as such would be nice lol . Hopefully it's not terrible and hopefully at least a handful of you enjoy. If you do, reviews / comments are greatly appreciated. Criticism too!

Fic takes place at the beginning of TFA, obvious Kylo / OC (Elara). Rated M in coming chapters for adult situations, language and, obviously a fair share of smut. Bit of a slow build at first but that's just the way I roll. Think that about covers it...enjoy! (I hope)

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Prologue

Traitor, some would call her.

Turncoat.

Snake.

Miscreant even.

The list could go on for days as far as Elara knew; not that she could even muster a scrap of mind to care. If she had to choose her own classification, however, at the very least and at her coore, her most fitting definition was opportunist. A lone wolf who lived for and seized each moment as it came and jumped on anything that presented itself at her feet. A wild card, who had, for so many years, pledged no true allegiance and had no bond to anyone or anything to hold her down. A constant observer, collecting what she wanted and what she needed to use as bargaining chips for whatever or whomever could be bought whenever necessary; for good intent or otherwise.

Loyalty, Elara had learned, was useless. Loyalty never lasted, it was but betrayal waiting to happen. Betrayal shrouded in the guise of idealism and happy ending. She seen too much, lived too much and in experiences past, given too much of herself to all those around her only to be crushed and thrown by the wayside in the end. Loyalty had taught her she was nothing to anyone other than herself, and that was just fine. Holding to herself was just about the only thing she knew to be true, wanted to hold true to, and the only way she knew how to be anymore. To be any different sparked glimmers of troublesome and fleeting hope of what life was supposed to be; fairytales from children's books. Wishful thinking that only lead to shattered hearts and shattered dreams. The promise of loyalty, and the resulting lack there over, had built her layers thick and hard and as far as Elura was concerned she was all the better for it. Because hope, as she knew it to be now, was nothing more than a tragic joke that mirrored what life had offered her at every turn. Hope was as much of a lie as loyalty and it seemed to her there would never again be anything that could convince her otherwise. She had no mind for hope, and certainly no time for it either.

War was on the winds, of that everyone was certain. Whispers in quiet dark corners and broad common grounds alike. Rumors of the dark that rose in the First Order. Fear of the past and The Empire rose again that shot ice through veins and haunted dreams. Fear that gripped and clawed its way through every inch of the galaxy like an imposing entity unrelenting in its only opposition now, as always, was hope. Hope, the constant light that cut through the darkness for everyone else. A comfort and a wish; a promise of that foolish storybook concept of happy ending that everyone clung fast to in the face of opposition. Hope, delivered in the form of The Resistance, the rebels, the beacon shining bright in the face of adversity. After all, the same sort of hope had prevailed decades prior. What was to say that it couldn't be a feat repeated.

Hope, the face that plagued Elara for the better part of her life. The Resistance, the farce of a faction she had the misjudgment with which to align with near the beginning. Together a path lost to her. Or rather, a path forced from her. Too much had happened and at the same time not enough did. She had no choice other than to turn her back on that way now and fix her gaze on a new horizon. A path less, though not entirely, untravelled. Elara was an opportunist after all and if war was on the winds, she regrettably needed to break her resolve and hold tight to one side at least. Neutrality in times like these never served prosperous for anyone that she could think of. To weather the storm on her own would have been foolish, if not downright dangerous to say the least. Both sides had been strung along and considered in her heart and her mind. There was but one choice to make and now was the time to make it.

When chance presented itself, there was nothing other to do than jump. For Elara chance, for her, came unexpectedly in the night on Jakku. Full force in all its glory, falling squarely at her feet in perfect time and perfect offering. Hers to take along with whatever trouble followed and lashed at her heels by consequence. Her only "hope" now, stowed away on a transport carrier full of stormtroopers headed back to The Finalizer, was that the chance laid at her feet hadn't been more bit off than she could chew.