•LEGACY - A Reylo Story•

EPISODE IV - SICKNESS

When Rey wakes up, her head is throbbing and her throat feels parched. Gasping, she jumps to her feet inside what looks like a small bedchamber, metallic and dark. A single light glows rom the ceiling. She throws off a blanket woven of uneven dull grey fibers.

Kylo Ren.

I'm on his ship.

And Luke... her mother... Rey crumbles back onto the bed, trying not to cry. She notices a pitcher of water on the floor and glugs it down.

The door slides open, and Kylo Ren enters, concealed under that black mask meant to intimidate. Rey glares at him.

The first thing Kylo Ren does is remove his mask, setting it down on one of the shelves built into the wall. Rey notes, not without satisfaction, the scar marring his face.

"Why?" she demands. "Why me?"

He glances away from her, at the metal wall and their images reflected there. "The Supreme Leader requested I bring you to him. For the second time, if you count the time on Starkiller Base."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"To torture and kill me?" she ventures.

Now, Kylo Ren meets her eyes. "No. He will want you to join him. You need a teacher."

Rey laughs. Her head pounds. Probably because this idiot banged it against the door or something. "I have one." Have, not had. "And when I refuse, then he'll torture and kill me."

"No, he won't," Kylo insists, in an almost reassuring tone. When Rey glares up at him, he adopts a blank look. "I suggest you don't try to escape. The ship is small, and there are no escape pods."

Rey gapes at him. "You have that much faith in this ship, then, huh?"

He almost smiles. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything? Food, more water?"

The notion of food nauseates her. Rey shakes her head and regrets it. Everything spins, and her brain feels like it's knocking against her skull. "You bumped my head," she accuses.

"I did not."

She scowls, her skin prickling. Why is it so cold? "Well, then, why does it hurt?"

His gaze darts all around, like a little child trying to remember what he's accused of now. "I-I tried to be careful-"

Rey rubs her shoulder.

"Your shoulder hurts, too?" he asks.

"No doubt thanks to your freezing me," she snaps. She wants to grab the threadbare blanket, but she can't. She won't show any more weakness in front of him.

"I've never heard of-"

"Do you make a habit of asking your prisoners how your Force tricks make them feel?" Disgust and rage well up within her. This is the man who almost killed Finn. Who killed Han Solo.

"You want to kill me still?"

She says nothing, but glances away. I am a terrible Jedi. "No," she answers, meeting his eyes once again. "My teacher wouldn't want me to."

He swallows.

Rey rubs her forehead. "If you're going to ask me where Luke Skywalker is, I won't tell you. We both know that."

"I've had more training since then."

"So have I."

He shrugs as if to acknowledge her point and turns towards the door. "If you need anything, just knock. If I am busy, one of the stormtroopers will be happy to help you."

She's almost shivering. The cold feels like a snake coiling and uncoiling on her skin and inside her. Oh, to hell with it. "There is one thing," she calls.

He pauses, his hand hovering over his mask.

"Can you make it warmer in here? Or bring another blanket?"

The hand drops away from the mask as Kylo Ren steps closer to her. "You're cold?"

Rey backs away as he comes closer still.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he hisses, kneeling in front of her and pulling off a black glove. Rey recoils as his hand reaches for her head.

"Last time-"

But he's not using the Force. Instead, his hand presses against her forehead, and when he withdraws it, Kylo's face is pale. "You have a fever."

Rey's stomach rolls. If she's sick, how can she escape?

"Lie down," he tells her, pulling the cover over her as she glares at him. "I'll get you more blankets-and some more water-"

The drum inside her head pulls Rey down. She shuts her eyes, feigning sleep, pretending she's back on Ahch-To with Luke, back on Jakku with her doll, left to her by the mother she still doesn't know, a mother who would certainly force her to drink water when sick, and cover her with more blankets...

But her mother's dead, and someone else is covering her and forcing the water down her throat and placing icy compresses on her head, telling her in a far gentler tone: "You're going to be fine. You'll see. Don't be afraid."