Ashes to Ashes | A Kylo Ren Story

5. Damsel

"I want to live" your weak voice pushed down the thread in your mind.

Immediately the red lights stopped flashing, but your racing heart didn't.

You knew it was over but you couldn't slow your breathing. Couldn't  stop the phantom suffocation tightening around your lungs.

The shaking persisted, every inch of your body seemed to be channelling the fear, panic and exhaustion you were experiencing 

In the back of your mind you heard the doors slid open, heard footsteps approach you, saw Ren squat down in front of you through tear blurred eyes.

Felt the leather grip under your chin as he tilted your chin towards his mask, but your eyes couldn't focus on him, your ears couldn't tune in as he spoke quietly to you.

A flash of black passed through your vision then you felt weight on your shoulder and you began to feel warmer.

Then like the damsel you were you fainted. 

Right into the arms of the most dangerous man in the galaxy.

-Kylo Ren-

"I want to live" 

As soon as she uttered those four words he stopped the light show in the spare cargo room.

Her first lesson as his student was over, and she had passed. 

Not quite with flying colours, maybe a C+ at best, if he had really meant to kill her she would have been in space by now.

He could have, he'd considered it, but she would be valuable.

Untouched by the Jedi's propaganda she was perfect to mould and uncorrupted by the Sith training he himself had undergone she was the untapped source of light. The perfect amalgamation.

She was a mess when he opened to door and went to her. Understandable, she really had though he was going to kill her, he had reacted similarly after his first brush with death. 

Kneeling in the centre of the chamber, back ridged and fists clenched by her sides, blonde hair spilling down her back to her waist, the scars of her past peaking through.

He walked around her, she didn't move, he could feel the panic rolling of her a bundle of anxiety in the force, he bent at the knees as an attempt to bring himself to her level, it was unsuccessful, he still towered above her.

He was admittedly unsure of himself in the department of comforting.

Gently bringing her head to see him he saw the tears in her eyes, the ones rolling down her cheeks and the ones dried on her neck.

"Breathe little rebel" 

His words fell on deaf ears.

She was shaking so badly he thought she might be having some kind of seizure, but he could feel the cool of her skin through the leather of his glove, her presence in the force was also becoming cooler, dimming as her hyperventilation drained her energy.

The sight her her pretty little face contorted by the denial of her lungs to cooperate with her body made his chest constrict a little, made him want to take his lightsaber and slice the room that housed her trauma to pieces.

But it wasn't the room that did this to her.

He knew that. But it was a necessary evil, only a step toward her becoming powerful. A step towards a place where no one could hurt her.