Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He doesn’t know why he answers. It’s been so long since anyone Called him from the deep that he hardly recognizes the feeling when it comes over him. Subtle at first, it starts tugging at him to go to the source of the Call, to whatever mortal is asking for him. It doesn’t feel like he remembers. It comes over him in waves, like the caster doesn’t know what they’re doing, but the strength of the pull is undeniable. If he was younger or less powerful, he would have been drawn to the source before he even knew what was happening to him. But Kylo has spent years honing his strength, showing humans and monsters alike his dominance over his domain. He cannot be compelled so easily.

Maybe it’s nothing more than a whim. Maybe it’s his boredom, built up over decades of ruling undisputed in his territory. It could be curiosity, or the simple desire to follow a connection to another creature, even if they’re likely intent on using him. Whatever it is, he doesn’t feel like analyzing it too closely as he rises from his cave and hurls his sinuous body through the water to the Caller.

The magic draws him to the source even faster than he can swim with his natural powers, and in barely more than a blink of his large eyes, he finds himself in a familiar cave. A wave of ice crashes over him with the memories that come with this place. A scarred and wrinkled figure in golden robes, imagining himself one of the ancient kings with the powers of gods at his disposal. Kylo has no objection to destruction, but some of the things he was commanded to do from this cave made his already chilled blood run cold. When the old man finally slipped in his guard, he was the sweetest meal Kylo had ever had, before or since.

It takes Kylo a few deep breaths before he returns to the here and now, seeing the young woman in front of him instead of the ghost of the past. Her eyes are fixed on him, and he realizes the old anger must be showing in his red eyes, as well as the steam curling from his nostrils. The cold ocean water drips from his snout and scales into the pool in the cave. His body barely fits in the confined space, his length curling on itself to make room, undulating just below the surface.

The woman notices. He sees her take in the full effect of his dragon form, watches her swallow. Good. He doesn't intend to be taken advantage of so easily again. He breathes deeply, tasting the air. His sense of smell is much less precise out of the water, but the churning mix of scents coming off of this woman isn’t what he expects. Fear is there, yes, but not the sharp acrid bite he expects. Her fear is deeper, mellowed over time, blended with a bitter edge of exhaustion and hunger. He has no doubt she could command him if she wished, but she doesn’t taste like she’s called him to start another empire. Not yet.

Kylo waits for her to speak. Instead, she takes her time looking him over. He enjoys her looks. Even through her tiredness, her eyes have a light of curiosity, and she looks at him with appreciation rather than acquisition. Her gaze flicks from him to the runes on the ground around her.

“I can’t believe it actually worked,” she mutters.

He snorts, another wave of steam rolling from his nostrils. “Of course it worked,” he rumbles. She jumps a bit at the sound of his voice, but to her credit, she controls her reaction well. Curiosity quickly returns to her features, eyes wide as she regards him.

“You’re really it? The great beast? The one who destroyed Crait, the holder of the Ren, the devourer of armies?”

He preens a little at her recitation of his titles. Humans at least know how to keep their stories alive, even though they can’t bind them in the tides. “I am he, as you have called me.”

She exhales shakily. “Wow.” She looks at the runes and shakes her head. “I always heard the stories, and I wanted to believe them, but this...wow.”

He leans in towards her, pleased when she doesn’t back away. “If you know the stories, you know what it means to have Called me?”

She hesitates, then nods. “I gave my blood to the binding spell. I… control you.”

“To a degree,” he clarifies, eyes flashing as another wave of memory passes over him. “The binding is not absolute.” He doesn’t mention that, from what he can smell, her blood is as strong as any to have bound him before.

She nods again. “Of course,” she agrees. “Magic never is, they say.” Her voice doesn’t sound quite steady, and he can guess at several reasons for that, but her mind seems clear.

A smile crosses his lips at that. She’s perceptive, especially for one who doesn’t seem to have tested her powers before. “Indeed.” He fixes his gaze on her, allowing her to feel the full weight of the power behind her next words. “So what would you have me do, my lady?”

She glances around the cave, and some of the strength keeping her upright leaves her. “They’re all gone,” she says in a quieter voice. “The whole team, everyone I came here with, they all died in the storm. It’s just me now.”

“I cannot bring back the dead,” he says, regarding her warily. He’s seen the consequences of those kinds of wishes before.

“No, that’s not -- I know. They’re gone.” Her shoulders slump further. “I just want to go home.” She looks up at him and gives her first fateful order. “Take me home.”

Her words give him a choice. He’s waited to hear them for so long; all he has to do is what she asks, and he’ll never be alone again. But there’s another path: the magic also shows him a small room in a city by a coast, cold and lonely. He could be free of her, return them both to their own lives.

He doesn’t have to take the path that will bind both their fates. As much as he is bound to the magic, he does have a degree of choice as to how he interprets it.

But he wants to. So he does.

Chapter Text

The woman hesitates when Ben holds his hand out to her. He says nothing, only waits. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that she has no other options besides the one she’s Called to her. Her small hand takes hold of his clawed one, only slightly shaking. As soon as she has hold of him, he pulls her in against his chest. She gasps. In his hold, she feels so small and breakable. He wraps his scaled arms around her and extends the protection of his magic over her.

“Hold on,” he murmurs. Her hands clutch his arms, and then he dives back below the water.

The long stretch of his dragon form moves sinuously through the water, undulating in waves that take them deeper in the ocean. His magic builds as he goes, giving them unnatural speed. Soon they speed through the water like an arrow back to his cave. He can’t travel as fast as when he’s Called, but it still only takes a matter of minutes before they’re slowing again as his home nears. The landscape around them reforms from the dark blur streaked with strange lights and instead becomes the familiar crags that hide his lair. Still holding the woman close, he swims more sedately to the entrance hidden between two rocks.

They pass through the boundary into his home and the magics he’s sunk into the place settle over them in a protective mantle. He sighs and the sound echoes in the large hall. Small tremors run through the woman in his grasp and he carefully sets her down on the stone floor. Ben shakes his head, sending a shudder down his body. He collapses into himself, taking a new form.

The woman notices the sudden shift in the room and turns around. Her mouth falls open as she takes in his more human appearance. He can’t manage a fully human shift, but he stands before her now much closer in size than his dragon form. He still has to use a glamour on the rare occasions he travels above the waves, though he avoids that for several reasons. The woman’s gaze starts at the blue-black horns that poke through his dark hair, then travels down over the angles of his face. The lines of the dragon’s features still show through in this form, and scales extend from his hairline across his forehead and cheeks, mostly black but glinting blue in the low lights that illuminate the hall. His eyes maintain their reptilian slits and fangs press against his lower lip. His arms have the same patterning of scales, heavier towards his fingertips, where they end in claws, as well as his legs. His tail swishes on the ground behind him. The woman’s eyes trail down his pale chest, marred by old scars, nearly reaching the least human part of him between his legs before she jerks her eyes back up to his face. Her cheeks flush.

He stands still and lets her adjust. He wants her to be comfortable here, and as much as he wants to show her everything at once, he fears scaring her off. She clears her throat.

“I didn’t know you could shapeshift,” she says. Her tone carries no particular inflection, just an observation.

He raises and lowers his broad shoulders. “I suppose it doesn’t often feature in the kinds of stories that tellers like to share.”

She hums in what could be agreement. “Can you change into anything?”

He shakes his head. “Learning a form takes time and magic. I have plenty of both, but neither are infinite. I can hold a few others, more than most of my kind.” He decides not to detail his other forms at the moment. In his experience, humans don’t appreciate large numbers of tentacles.

Her eyes widen. “Of your kind? How many of you are there?”

“Only one of me,” he says with a smirk. She rolls her eyes, but he continues before she has to clarify. “Of those like me, very few, and even less as time passes.”

She makes another humming noise and looks around. The hall at the entrance to his home is the largest part, meant to allow him to change in privacy. The rest is sized for his smaller form, a choice he’d made many years ago. It gave him protection, since too many creatures could try to sneak into a dragon-sized hold. Rumors of dragon treasure made creatures bolder than they deserved. Most of those that did try couldn’t travel without the water he sealed outside of his cave. He’d found it worked to his advantage for protecting the treasure he gathered from the elements as well. He’d never considered bringing a human here before, though his own father had been one, but he had a sudden appreciation for his own foresight.

The woman turns back to him. “This isn’t my home,” she says. Her eyes narrow as they look into his.

“It could be,” he says.

She freezes, then shakes her head. “I told you to take me home!”

“I did,” he returns evenly. “You didn’t specify, so I brought you to my home. Though you are welcome to share it.”

She scowls at him. “I didn’t ask to be kidnapped by some water demon,” she snaps. “I wanted you to take me home, to my home! I have a life, I have --”

He sees the exact moment she remembers what had brought her to him in the first place. The hand that had been waving to make her point drops to her side, and her shoulders slump. “I had,” she whispers. “They’re all gone now.” She laughs without humor. “You’d think after as long as I was stuck on that island alone, I’d remember that.”

He approaches her slowly. “I am sorry for your loss,” he says, hoping human customs haven’t changed too drastically since he last spent time among them.

She wraps her arms around herself, head bowed. He wants to hold her again, but he still worries he’ll scare her further away. He takes another step towards her.

“I didn’t bring you here out of malice.” A smaller step. He almost touches her. “I meant what I said. You’re welcome to make this your home.”

Her head jerks up and scowls at him. “And how many pathetic humans have you made that offer to?” she sneers.

He pulls back the hand that hovered over her shoulder and quickly shakes his head. “None.” He can tell by her expression she doesn't believe him. “I swear.” He hesitates before adding the next part. “My kind only mates once in a lifetime. I wouldn’t share my den with anyone else but my own.”

She sucks in a harsh breath, her eyes going wide again. “I--” She takes a step back from him. “I don’t -- You --” She shakes her head. “What does that even mean?” Her voice pitches up as she speaks.

He shakes his head as well and takes a step back to give her space. “I will not do anything you don’t want,” he says quickly. “I have no intention of hurting you in any way. I promise.”

She relaxes a littles, then regards him again, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean then?”

He breathes in, bracing himself. If he wants to keep her, he’ll have to give her a reason to stay. He’s never done anything like this before, but he’s never tried to keep a human for himself either. And he’s never wanted to so badly. The thought of her leaving brings back all the years he’s spent on his own, and now that that’s changed, he realizes he doesn’t want to go back. Snarling and trying to trap her will only make her demand her take her back to where she came from, even if she has no home left there. His only weapon left is his honesty.

“I’ve been alone for a very long time,” he admits. “Very few remember the old ways, the magic it takes to Call me. Those that do only want to use me.” He swallows. “You know the kinds of things I’ve been used to do.” She flinches, and he presses his lips together. Maybe he shouldn’t have reminded her of those while trying to keep her from fearing him. He pushes on. “It feels like I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time,” he finishes. His hand twitches, wanting to reach out to her, but he keeps himself still.

She shakes her head again, and his heart sinks. “This is crazy,” she mutters. She looks back at him. “You don’t even know my name!”

He blinks. “Oh.” He nods to her. “My apologies. What should I call you, my lady?”

Her lips curve ever so slightly. “Hardly a lady. But my name is Rey.”

He hears the truth of it as she says it. “Thank you, Rey.” There is power in names, and she’s given him hers. “You can call me Ben.”

Rey cocks her head. “Ben? Not Kylo?”

He nods. “It’s what I was named. Kylo Ren is the name that binds me to the magic.”

She regards him with interest. “If I stay, would you teach me more about magic?”

He tries not to let his excitement show too clearly. She’s considering it. “It would be my pleasure.”

She considers that and he waits, keeping from moving around like he wants to. After a while, she gives him a half-smile. “I guess there aren’t many other dragon demons around to keep you company?”

He snorts. “The only one of my kind I’ve spent any kind of time with is my mother.”

Rey laughs and he can’t keep from smiling in return. When her laughter fades, she shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m considering this,” she mutters. His heart leaps. She looks back at him. “And I can’t believe we’re discussing this while you’re still naked.”

“Ah.” Heat touches his cheeks. He’s spent so much time alone, he forgot that aspect of human culture. “I have clothes somewhere, if you would prefer --”

She waves him off, and he notices her cheeks have darkened too. “It’s fine, I’ve seen --” She stops and presses her lips together while the red deepens on her face. They stand awkwardly until she gathers herself again. He notices her gaze stays steadily above his shoulders. “What would it mean? To be your --” She hesitates over the word. “-- Mate.”

He’s thought about this both too much and not enough. “You’d live here,” he starts.

“Got that,” Rey says dryly.

He huffs. “It could mean many things. I could teach you magic, you could explore my domain. I would share my hoard with you.” That’ll be the hardest part, but it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. “I haven’t had a mate before, so I don’t know everything that it means. But if you agreed to stay, we could find out together.” He does hold his hand out to her this time, willing her with everything he has to take it.

She looks at his hand, conflict written across her face. For a moment he thinks she’ll agree, but then she shakes her head. “We’ve only just met,” she says, and steps back from him. His hand drops to his side in defeat. “You said your kind mate for life. What if you decided you hate me and we’re stuck together?”

He purses his lips. He knows, to the core of himself, that this is right. His choice has already been made. He doesn’t know how to make her feel that though. Maybe with time, but not tonight. He rolls the thought over in his head.

“A bargain,” he says. “You agree to stay here with me for a decade. If at the end of that time, you still want to return to your old life over staying with me, I will take you back. In the meantime, I can show you what this life has to offer.” He knows he’ll never have another, even if she decides to leave at the end of that time, but he can’t keep her if she doesn’t want to stay.

“A decade?” she sputters. He frowns. He’d thought it a very reasonable offer. Short enough for her not to feel trapped, long enough for him to have a chance to convince her. “Ben, that’s ten years. My life will be almost half over by then.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “What would you suggest?”

“Six months” she says decisively.

It’s his turn to sputter in disbelief. “Six months? That’s no time at all! I’ve had naps longer than that.”

She smirks at him. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay up past your bedtime if you’re going to convince me to stay.”

“A year,” he says desperately. “Give me a chance at least.”

She squints at him, but then, to his great relief, nods. “A year,” she agrees. “I’ve put up with worse situations for longer than that.”

He laughs. “With those kinds of standards, at least it shouldn't be difficult for me to exceed your expectations.”

She smiles back at him, and it lights her face in a way that takes his breath away. A year is nothing, and he knows he’ll hold the memory of this for a very long time to come. He’ll do everything in his power to keep her. She holds her hand out to him. “A deal then. One year trial.”

He clasps her hand in his. “A deal,” he echoes. Her gaze flicks down to his lips, and he wonders wildly if they should seal their agreement with a kiss, but then she’s pulling her hand back and rubbing her bare arms.

“You’re cold,” he realizes, and curses himself for not remembering how fragile humans are, especially with how much she’s been through already. “I’m sorry, I should have noticed.”

She shrugs. “It’s fine. I could use some sleep though. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course. Come with me.” He turns to lead her out of the hall and back to the room he uses to rest.

She walks close by him, near enough that he can feel her shivering. He hesitates, then raises his arm to wrap around her shoulders. He rests it only barely touching her at first, ready for her to pull away, but she draws closer to him instead. He lets his hand settle on her, nearly covering the upper half of her arm, and to his relief, her shudders start to ease. He knows he runs warm, he has to, living this deep in the ocean, but he should have remembered his human guest is different. He suspects he’ll have a lot of learning to do in the year to come. He looks forward to it.

He rubs his hand up and down her arm, doing his best to warm her. She leans into him with a sigh, and his chest fills with a strange sort of pride. It’s a small gesture, but he likes how he can make even a little thing like this better for her. He wonders what else he could do for her to elicit this kind of reaction.

Too soon, they arrive at the entrance to his room. He shows her inside. He hadn’t realized how this would feel, showing someone else his private space. No one has ever been here besides him, and he’s made this space into the center of his domain. He keeps his most precious treasures here, whether it be for their value or appearance, and has spent years setting things just as he likes. He has piles of rare stones, strange oddities he’s found abandoned, pieces he’s not sure what they’re for, but have caught his attention. He’s fixed bright crystals and other shiny bits into the crags of the walls and ceiling, liking how they catch the light. Near his bed, he has a collection of books and scrolls stacked, precious for the care it took to get them down here. The bed itself is formed of a tangle of blankets, tapestries, stray strips of fabric, all wrapped into what’s almost a nest, cushioning against the stone floor. He looks at Rey, worried it’s not enough for her. He can disguise himself, go get whatever she needs --

Rey looks around the room with wide eyes and lips parted. “Oh, wow,” she breathes. The crystals in the walls reflect in her hazel eyes and he can’t look away.

“Is this okay?” he asks, hand tightening on her shoulder.

She looks up at him. “Ben, it’s wonderful. It’s like I’m already dreaming.”

He smiles down at her. “I’m glad you like it.” That flare of pride is back. She likes what he’s made. He’s done well for his mate.

She steps out of his hold and walks to the bed. “I can sleep here?” she asks. He nods. She looks down at herself, pink touching her cheeks again. “Do you have any clothes I could use? And somewhere I can wash? It’s been a while --” She trails off, and he realizes with a flush what she needs.

“Yes, of course,” he says hurriedly. “The washroom is through there.” He gestures to a curtain covering a gap in the wall. “I’ll find you something to wear.”

She nods gratefully and disappears into the other room. He goes to a chest along the wall and paws through the jumble of clothing within until he finds what he’s looking for: a plain long tunic, long enough for him, which should cover her. While there, he finds himself a pair of loose trousers. May as well make an effort for his guest.

He passes the tunic through the curtain to Rey, trying very hard not to think of what she looks like bare behind that scrap of fabric. She’s exhausted and still adjusting to the new life he’s offered her. He’s almost disgusted with himself for considering it. But then she emerges, wearing nothing but his tunic, and he can’t stop thinking about it. He made the mistake of giving her a white tunic, and while it’s thick and long enough to cover her, he can still clearly see the shape of her breasts and hips under the fabric. He’d been able to see her shape before in her worn old clothing, but the difference in seeing her in a shirt he gave her was not something he expected.

He stands quickly from where he’d sat near the bed. “I should let you rest,” he says in a rush, and starts towards the doorway.

Rey frowns and walks to intercept him. “Don’t you sleep? I can’t kick you out of your own bed.”

“I can sleep in the hall,” he says dismissively.

Her frown deepens. “You don’t have to do this for me,” she protests. “I’ve been sleeping on the ground. This is your room, I can’t --”

“Rey, you’re my guest.” He tries to leave again, but her hand on his arm stops him.

“Come on.” She’s barely gripping him; he could easily shake her off, but instead, he lets her draw him back towards the bed.

“Rey--” he says, giving his better nature one last chance to prevail.

“I’m still cold,” she says before he can find another excuse. “If you sleep here, you can warm me up.”

He can’t refuse that. Rey settles on the bed, curling into a ball. Carefully, he joins her. The layers of cushioning dip under his weight, drawing her towards him. They end up face to face, and he can barely breathe. Never in all his years could have predicted this.

Rey shivers again, and Ben reaches to the edge of the bed and grabs several layers to pull over them. Rey sighs contentedly as he covers them and shifts closer to him.

“Goodnight, dragon,” she says, then smiles. “I guess I’ll find out if you’re a dream when I wake up.”

He frowns down at her. “Do you really think that?” He wants her here because she wants to be, not because he’d tricked her into it.

“Not really,” she admits. “It just feels a little too good to be true right now. I haven’t felt this comfortable in so long.”

He wraps an arm over her and pulls her close. “I suppose I’ll have to prove myself tomorrow then.”

She laughs, the sound sleepy. He can see the exhaustion is quickly catching up to her. “I look forward to it,” she murmurs. Her hands tucked against his chest, her eyes slip closed.

Ben stays awake until her breathing slows and evens. He’d never imagined the small weight of her against him, under his touch, the way he can feel her breath on his chest and the small twitches she makes in sleep. He wants this every night, for as many years as he has left. He intends to fight for that with everything he has.

Finally, he falls asleep with her in his arms.