These Violent Delights

Chapter 3: Hubris

It was cold.

Not the temperature in the room, although that wasn't particularly cozy, either. Whatever you were strapped to was cold to the touch. Freezing, actually, as you realized a frigid slab of metal supported your spine and kept you upright. You groaned, your head swaying from side to side as your body hummed awake with the new sensations and pressures. The first thing you noticed was the lack of clothing. Judging by how cold you felt, you were still in the outfit you had worn for the assignment, which meant there was a possibility your choker, and contingency plan, was still secured around your neck.

Which brought you to your next area of concern: mobility. You tried to reach for your choker, but the restraints digging into your wrists and ankles kept you pinned. Great, moving on. Your head. Did it still hurt? You remembered falling and knocking it on the asphalt—of course, the one surface that wasn't entirely sand—and feeling a sharp pain in your ribs. Your side didn't hurt now, but when you moved your head a fraction, you winced at a sore spot. Also great.

Okay. Now, for the most vital question—where the fuck were you? You knew the First Order had you, but how did you get here? You remembered Groman's Cantina. The cigarette, the stars. Blood oozing from Wor's belly. The Stormtrooper, the First Order command shuttle. Zeven and Finn screaming your name as you stayed frozen in time. The heartbreak in Drox's eyes. The sound of boots approaching you, and then...

The masked creature. The gears turning in your mind clicked into place when you remembered you were his prisoner. Kylo Ren's prisoner.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, immediately regretting it as your sight landed directly on the Supreme Leader. Crouching down with his posture utterly relaxed, he was staring right at you.

You tugged on your restraints. "Where am I?"

"The First Order headquarters," the mask spoke, his voice deeply modified. "Even you, a filthy Resistance rat, could have figured that out."

"Why, why am I here?"

Kylo stood up. "I need something from you."

You swallowed as you took in the sheer size of him, the hooded cowl draped around his head and broad shoulders making your skin crawl. When he took slow steps toward you, you lifted your chin and tried to keep your voice even. "I won't give it to you."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes," you spat, hating how you flinched away when he stopped in front of you. The Supreme Leader filled your vision entirely, forcing you to look down at his chest. He placed his hands behind his back, and you caught a glimpse of your dagger tucked under his belt. Tied around the hilt was your ribbon choker—and your only way out.

Your heart dropped. Fuck.

Following your gaze, Kylo tilted his mask down toward your knife. "Ah, yes," he mused, pulling his robes back to give you a better view. "We removed this at intake. We couldn't have you killing yourself before we had the chance to use you, now could we?"

You dragged your gaze up to the visor of his mask, your heart jumping to your throat. "You're reading my mind."

"I am," he said, returning his hands behind his back. He tilted his head to the side. "You still want to kill me."

"That happens when you're being hunted by a creature in a mask," you shot back, tugging on your restraints as you tried to lean forward. "Take it off. I want to call you a coward to your face."

Kylo didn't respond. He didn't move. If you could see his expression, you imagined he'd be amused with your efforts to break free. Anger simmered in your gut. "Why do you wear a mask anyways, huh? Are you secretly Jabba the Hutt's twin, some ugly fucking slug-like alien? Or are you just hideous all on your own?"

When you didn't get a rise out of him, your lips curled into a cruel smile. "Nah, that can't be it, can it? Not when Leia's beautiful and Han was—"

You didn't see the blow coming. Before you could finish, the back of his hand connected with your cheek, delivering a zap of pain that lingered long after he dropped his hand. Your hair fell in your face as you hung your head low. It didn't hurt that bad—if anything, it just stung—but you knew your cheek would be bright red from the mark.

When he spoke again, there was a bite to his previously composed tone. "Say their names again, and the next one will bruise."

With a breathy chuckle, you peeked up at him through the blanket of your hair. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Jabba."

"You think this is just a game, don't you?" After a moment of silence, he tsked. "You fool. Your hubris will be your downfall."

You cracked him a toothy grin. "Whoa, big guy. Don't you know where I'm from? We don't learn big words like that. You gotta break 'em down for me, nice and slow."

"I know where you're from. I know everything there is to know about you. You're a loner, an orphan, a trained killer..." Kylo trailed off as he slipped out your vibroblade and looked down, twisting it in his hands. He spoke quietly—thoughtfully, almost. "Given our data on you, you're a good one, too. I'll give you that."

Tension festered between you as he kept his mask locked on your knife, playing with your choker tied to the hilt. "Too bad the Resistance found you first. Even you, a nameless nobody, could have been a useful asset to the First Order," he said before slipping it back under his belt. He lifted his head, setting that cold, dark mask on your face. "To me."

You looked away, your eyes unable to stay in one place. His indifference returned, which made you more uncomfortable than when he was violent. Anger, hatred...you could work with that. But this? You didn't know how to handle an enemy that was seemingly complimenting you.

There was an edge of mockery to his flat tone. "You think I'm being nice."

You blinked, panicking as you realized he was in your head again. "No, I, I–"

Kylo brought his fingers to the cheek he had just marked, caressing you with a gentleness that made you squeamish. "Trust me when I say...you won't find me very nice once I'm done with you."

"Don't touch me," you hissed, jerking away from him the best you could. "And I would never work for the First Order, for you."

He dropped his hand and sighed. "Funny how you joined the Resistance not because you believed in their cause, but because you just wanted to belong to something, to someone. Like a lost, abandoned animal."

Your chest tightened. "You're wrong."

"I'm not. You were nothing when FN-2187 found you. You had nothing. Your speeder was broken, leaving you stranded in a rotting AT-AT in the Jakku desert, the only place left to hide after the stragglers of Kanjiklub turned on you. You followed the traitor because you had nowhere else to go, like the good, little pet you are."

Your eyes fell to his chest. He wasn't entirely wrong—you did follow Finn back to the Resistance headquarters because you didn't have anywhere else to go. And when they took you straight to General Organa, she had been so warm in receiving you, you had almost considered staying. But then you fucked up—just as you always did. You shook your head. You didn't want to think about that. Not now. Not when Leia had forgiven you.

"You think you're special because the traitor took you directly to my mother," came his harsh retort. "Don't. You are only an asset to her cause, nothing else."

You vehemently shook your head. "That's not true. I'm not just an asset, none of us are. I'm her...she's..." you started but couldn't finish what you had meant to say, that she's your family now.

Kylo chuckled, a mocking, dark sound. "Pathetic. You've been in their ranks for less than six months, and you already call them family. All because you're desperate to feel like you belong ever since your parents abandoned you in that junkyard. Isn't that right?"

You stiffened. You didn't like this; his words were true, too true. So you did what you always did when confronted with your pain—you shut it out. You closed your eyes and went numb.

"No," he demanded, lifting his hand to your temple. "You will not hide from me."

And just with the gentle pressure of his finger, you felt your walls crack—the walls that kept this part of you hidden away. This man, this evil, wicked man had found this part of you, and he was forcing you to share it with him. You hated it, you hated him, but under his Force-coercion, you felt your bottom lip tremble as the pain uncontrollably barreled through your defenses.

"Ah, there it is," Kylo breathed, tilting down to your eye level. "The beginning of the end of your hubris."

"Shut up," you said, voice cracking as you bit back tears.

"It's okay, you can cry," he coaxed, and you turned your head away, refusing to look at his mask, but you couldn't escape the taunting softness of his voice. "I would hate myself too, if I were as pathetic as you."

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus on a flickering control panel on the wall, but your tears flowed freely as Kylo continued to rub salt in your wounds.

"Most of the Resistance resents you, and your team—the ones forced to like you—left you to die. That must hurt, doesn't it?"

Yes, he pulled from the abyss of your mind. This hold on you allowed nothing to remain hidden, allowing what you'd pushed down to rise to the surface. You closed your eyes, but it didn't stop reality from hitting you in the face. The dirty looks, the whispers behind your back, the exclusion from group activities—you knew the others didn't like how quickly General Organa took to you. Only your team talked to you, and even then, you were only truly close with Drox and Zeven. Finn, Poe, and Chewie just seemed to tolerate you.

"Ah, so you do know the truth," he muttered as you heard him reposition, standing closer to you. "Admit it, Prisoner M421, admit why you call these murderers, thieves, and traitors your family, even though they hate you."

Because you're right, I am desperate. A home is all I ever wanted, and Leia offered that to me, you unwillingly thought.She said I didn't have to run or hide or pretend to be someone I wasn't. They'd accept me for who I was.

"Very good," he cooed, brushing a loose hair out of your face. "You should be thanking me for saving you from her. She would have disappointed you."

You finally looked at him. "Get out of my head. Now."

"That's it," he praised, as the tears bled down your cheeks. "Let your anger expose the truth. Needing a home, somewhere to belong...it's your greatest weakness. Face it, fight this disease in you."

"I don't want to! Please, stop!"

"No," is all he said as you continued to lose yourself. His fingers dug into the side of your head, and you felt him slip deeper into your mind. "Ah, I see. You thought you could build a home with Drox, but you were wrong, weren't you?" You involuntarily nodded yes, a small sob escaping your lips, and he made a disapproving click of his tongue. "Drox abandoned you, just like your parents. He left you to die because he doesn't love you. Nobody loves you. Even the man you saw as your father, Tasu Leech, didn't care about you. He, too, only wanted you as an asset."

"Stop, just stop!"

"It makes sense, though. Who would love you, a monster? A cold-blooded killer?"

"I'm not a monster," you managed through sobs. "You're the monster! I...I only kill the wicked, the evil!"

He sounded amused. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"Hm, it seems you are mistaken, little fool," he said, his voice so low and quiet, it almost sounded sensual. "That soldier you stabbed last night? You know, the one whose throat you sliced open?"

He waited for an answer, but you didn't give him one. All you could do was try to stop yourself from slipping into hysteria.

"I personally recruited him to the 709th Legion the day before last. He was honored, grateful even, and Tatooine was his first—and only—operation, thanks to you. He had never harmed a soul. His hands were cleaner than yours will ever be. Just a young boy, really, but you slaughtered him like an animal. And yet, I'm the monster?"

You tried to focus on your breathing, to stop what was about to come, but you couldn't. The image of the soldier dying so messily below you, gasping for air, clutching at the severed flesh on his neck...

It broke you.

Your sobs were uncontrollable now as you hiccuped and sniffled, trying to twist your head away from his probing hand. You cried like this for what felt like a lifetime, but it wasn't cathartic. It was painful, terrible, like you were bleeding out and physically unable to put pressure on your wound.

Kylo lifted your chin to look at him, but you refused. Your eyes darted everywhere but that fucking mask. His chest, behind him, his shoulders...but then he leaned in, giving you no other choice. You promptly closed your eyes—something he did not like.

"Look at me." Kylo's demand reverberated through your body, and without your consent, your eyes flew open. He made a mocking tsk sound as more tears rushed down your cheeks. "Aw, what's wrong? Are you upset because you killed a little boy? Hm, pet? Or is it because I'm forcing you to look in the mirror?"

"We are not the same," you said through gritted teeth. "I am not the monster that you are."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he said lightly, straightening his spine and letting go of your chin. He moved, pacing lazily in front of you. "But a lonely, desperate, broken girl...this, you know."

His words stung, but without his hands on you, you felt the walls he had torn down hurry to reassemble themselves. You ducked your head, waiting for it to pass and desperate to be numb again, but the damage had already been done. The pain had already cut you deep, and the big, fat tears rolling down your face dropped to the floor with messy plops.

You unsteadily raised your head, looking up at him through your wet lashes. "Why do you want me?" you cried, voice wavering. "What do you want from me, just a stupid nobody?"

The Supreme Leader stopped pacing, turned his head toward you, and outstretched his hand. "Everything."

You gasped, your back peeling off the interrogation chair as his hold pulled your body to him. Immense pressure hammered into your mind with each twist of his wrist, but this time, you fought back. "I'm not giving you anything," you managed, just a broken, breathy sound.

"We'll see." Even through his helmet, you could hear the arrogance in his voice.

Another pivot of his wrist and the pressure expanded, deepening his presence in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, screaming. "GET OUT!"

Kylo stepped closer to you, calm and confident in taking up your space. His breathing was steady while yours was erratic, uneven. He was so close, you could feel his body heat, and each time you inhaled, your chest brushed against his. It made you sick, and when he pressed two fingers to your temple, that's when the screaming began.

You jolted forward, but he didn't move, your forehead connecting with his chest. Two more fingers prodded at the other side of your head, keeping you against him, the pressure turning into a distinct, shooting pain. It carved into the edges of your mind, leaving small cuts with each tendril and taking away your perception of what was real and what wasn't. All that existed inside you was pain; all that existed was him and his occupancy inside your skull as his fingers continued to press into your temple.

You shrieked against his chest, your mouth opening and closing as your saliva dribbled onto his tunic. You tried to wrench away from him, to at least lift your head, but the weight of the agony was too punishing. "Get out," you moaned, "get the fuck out."

"You're so weak," you heard him say above you. He sounded amused. "Give me everything about D'Qar."

Panic surged through you. How did he know we're on D'Qar? When did he find out? Did they evacuate? But these concerns were fleeting as everything about your base flashed in your mind—secret exits and tunnels, artillery inventory, fleet numbers, and all the faces of your division. Distressed, guttural noises tore from your lungs as he scrubbed your mind bare, plucking each thought out like a page from a book until there was nothing left but a weakened spine.

"Very good," Kylo praised. "Show me everything you know about Luke Skywalker."

You felt him delve deeper, his fingertips digging into your scalp, but instead of pulling images from your mind, it felt as though he had actually transported you to the Resistance bunker, taking you back to the first time you met General Organa. It seemed so real, you could smell the moss and dirt as you had taken your first step down the creaky, wooden stairs. You could feel the damp humidity clinging to your face as you followed Finn deeper and deeper underground. You could even feel the chill that had crept down your spine as you took in the dismal morale around you, the vacant eyes of your to-be comrades following your every move.

And when you took your last step around a corner and into a dimly lit control room, that's when you—and your captor—saw Leia Organa stand to receive you.

You panted against Kylo's chest, your forehead still smashed against him, desperate to escape the rest of the memory. You didn't want to see it again; you didn't want to feel it again. Not when your first night on base still brought you shame, even though six months had passed. You didn't want to relive the way she had first looked at you, like you were someone important, only for you to deceive her hours later. And to hear the way Chewie had howled when he caught you stealing anything and everything in sight? Yeah, you'd rather fucking not.

You tried to lift your head away from him. "Please, no—"

"Yes."

With another surge of pressure, you didn't recognize the noises he pulled from you. They sounded too rough, too deep, as you saw a vision of yourself standing in front of General Organa, angry tears welling in your eyes as she dropped her gaze to your pockets full of her valuables. You could feel the heat rising to your face and your throat constricting as you had waited for her to yell at you or shake her head and mutter what you'd heard so many times before—I should have known better than to trust someone like you.

But when she met your gaze once more, her eyes were full of pity. Sadness. Understanding. She had walked toward you with timid steps, as though she were approaching a wounded animal. You had taken a step away, unsure of her intent, but all she did was open her arms to embrace you.

In real-time, your body stiffened as the memory replayed in your mind, reacting as though she were hugging you all over again. It didn't feel right. Why would she have wanted to hug you after what you had done? Hours before that, you smiled and lied straight to her face, telling her that you'd be a part of their team as you ate their food and swapped stories with her and the other fighters. Then, you waited until everyone went to bed and snuck out of your bunk, robbing her blind as you ran for the exit.

You convulsed against Kylo's chest, a sob fighting its way through your lips just as it had in the interaction you were forced to revisit. You had expected the worst from Leia, but after you went limp in her arms, she only held you closer to soothe you. You had never been held like that before. Nobody had ever told you that it was going to be okay, that people make mistakes, that it wasn't your fault. You were only doing what you knew how to do. But Leia? Your pockets were full of her valuables, yet, she had stroked your hair and comforted you.

And that night, after you had pulled yourself together, the two of you had an emotional yet conducive conversation that lasted until sunrise. It had been painful to discuss your past and the circumstances that brought you to this lowly state, but Leia held no judgment for you—only forgiveness. Not only that, she seemed to really like you.

She even disclosed where her brother, Luke Skywalker, was hiding—some distant, dark planet named Exegol—and asked if you would be open to traveling there on behalf of the Resistance. While the mission sounded risky, you were desperate for her approval and immediately agreed. But you never got the chance to prove yourself, as she called it off days later after she had reason to believe that Luke was no longer there.

The memory began to fade as you saw yourself stumble to your bunk to sleep off the whiskey, and you could feel Kylo's impatience as though it were your own. He flipped through the rest of your time with the Resistance just as he did while stealing the intel on your base, violently and quickly, and when he pulled out, your mouth hung open in distress.

"I knew there was a reason to keep you alive," Kylo seethed over the sound of your labored breathing. "She wanted you to go to him. You, a lowlife, a fucking criminal."

Footsteps flooded the room and you knew he was pacing, but you couldn't raise your head to look at him. His exit from your mind left you just as disoriented as it had last night, forcing pained pants through your lips as you teetered on the edge of hyperventilation.

"Who are you to them?" you heard him ask, but you were too far gone to reply, to tell him that you truly were nobody and that Leia just felt bad for you, or perhaps she just needed someone to confide in. All you could do was hiccup and sniffle.

"Look at me," Kylo demanded, and when you shakily tried—and failed—to raise your chin, he closed in and placed his palm on your forehead, pinning your head against the interrogation chair. He shoved his other hand over your face. "Show me what Organa has told you about Luke. Show me what she knows about Exegol."

Hysteria seized you. "No, no, please don't," you cried, twisting away from his hand, "please stop! I will do anything! Please just don't do that again, please!" Kylo's hand twitched, and you closed your eyes to prepare for the assault. But it never happened. He removed his palm from your forehead and stepped away from you. In disbelief for his decision to spare you, you raised your bewildered gaze to him. "You—"

"Don't," he said, cutting you off with a curt shake of his head. "Don't mistake this as mercy."

Your bottom lip trembled. "Then what is it?"

"Self-serving," he said, matter-of-fact, before turning away from you and crossing the room in quick, powerful strides. As he reached the blast doors, he stopped, throwing you one last look over his shoulder. "Rest up, little pet. Next time I won't go so easy on you."