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Chapter Text

The first time Rey saw the dragon, it saved her life.

She’d been traveling through the mountains, in hopes of reaching the small village on the other side. The “Mountain Pass” she’d been told about was more of a “Mountain Deathtrap,” and her worn-out boots weren’t helping her any. She’d grown up in the Jakku dessert - everything there was flat and dry. The Yavin mountain range was full of eroded rock, all perpetually damp, and her boots had worn thin long ago.

And currently, she was scaling the face of the mountain, on a treacherously thin ridge, in hope of getting to the actual foot path.

There had been a rope bridge, once upon a time, but all that remained were tattered, moldy fibers hanging limply into the canyon below. Rey did her best not to look down to closely, to peer into the skeleton grins of less fortunate travelers scattered on the boulders below.

But she should have looked down - had she looked down, she would’ve noticed the mossy rocks, still damp with dew, and she surely would’ve stepped around them. But Rey was preoccupied with a suddenly realized fear of heights, which turned into a suddenly-realized fear of plummeting to her death.

But before Rey could scream, before she could process that this was it, she was going to die, massive talons wrapped around her midsection, pinning her arms to her sides, and she was yanked up into the sky.

The ground that was suddenly rushing towards her was suddenly rushing away from her. What had done it? What manner of creature would be large enough to pluck a fully-grown human out of the air? No - it couldn’t be…

But it was: Rey was inexplicably - even miraculously - in its clutches.

It landed on blessedly flat cliff, several yards higher. When she was set down – ungraciously landing on her bottom – she looked up into gleaming golden eyes of a massive, black dragon.

Dragon. That’s a dragon. Dragons aren’t dead, she thought in an incoherent, adrenaline-fueled stupor. She scrambled to her feet and backed away, careful to keep her back towards the mountain. The dragon eyed her, tucking its leathery black wings to its side. It might’ve been her imagination, but Rey swore that the look it gave her was condescending.

A sting in her arm drew her attention away from the beast. Rey glanced down, only to see red blooming on the meat of her forearm in three separate, identical streaks. “You cut me!” she said, as if it could hear her, as if it cared, as if wounds weren’t easier than a shattered skull.

It gave a derisive snort, as if to say, You’re welcome. But it extended its neck; Rey stood stock still in stone cold terror as it opened its mouth to reveal a long, barbed tongue. She barely breathed as it licked the wounds. Its tongue was rough, and it stung, and Rey couldn’t tell if it was tasting her, but finally it backed away, all the while regarding her with those golden eyes.

Once her mind registered that she was safe, the adrenaline came flooding through her system. Her legs shook, her teeth chattered, and her mouth rambled: “Okay, so maybe a cut is better than falling to my death, but still. Why save me - what are you? How are you alive -”

As if annoyed by her panic-driven questions, it snorted in a huff and flew away, the gusts from its giant wings stirring up the dirt. 

Limbs still shaking, mind still processing what on earth had just happened, Rey blinked up at the sky, watching until the dragon disappeared into the clouds.

She’d heard the myths, of course.  And there were always rumors of mages or wizards so powerful, so imbued with magic, that these creatures with magic in their blood found them. The old adage, magic calls to magic.

Perhaps that dragon had sensed her magic - meager as it was - and had decided to save her in a stroke of kindness. The texts she’d scavenged on Jakku all debated how sentient the creatures were, but…

She glanced down at her arm. The wound had healed, the new skin shiny and pink.

Rey took a steadying breath. That dragon just saved my life. And then healed me. She glanced around, almost hoping another traveller was around to witness it. But there was nothing, nobody, just the well-worn mountain path she had been trying to get to.

A kindness, she decided.

Rey took a breath. She hadn’t lost her pack during her fall and impromptu rescue, and no matter what circumstances brought her here - namely, an overgrown lizard with magical healing saliva - she was that much closer to finding Luke Skywalker, the legendary sorcerer who could help her complete her training. 

So Rey steeled herself. Magic calls to magic. If her magic called to the dragon, maybe it could also call to Skywalker.

With that thought in her mind, she continued on her way.

The second time Rey saw the dragon, it was blocking her path.

It was dusk the day after their first meeting. Rey was now nearing the bottom of the gorge; another day and a half and she’d be at the town. Tonight, the shallow cavern offered a perfect place to rest.

Or, it would, if an overgrown lizard weren’t blocking her way.

Rey glared at it. “Well? Move.”

It snorted, smoke curling from its nostrils, and extended its massive leathery wings, fully blocking the way into the cavern.

Rey then got to appreciate how large it was; its shoulder was at least a foot and a half taller than her, its talons the size of her hand, its canines the size of her forearm. She had no doubt that the silver horns that rose from its head could gore her in one swift movement.

Dragons were mentioned in nearly ever text on magic, usually in reference to their abilities, and their relationship with the land, and the way they could transmute matter, if so inclined. Rey was now of the opinion that not enough time was spent on describing their sheer, physical might.

Before her was a terrifying creature made for rendering flesh from bones. It made the desert lions look like sheep.

And it had nothing better to do than block her way into shelter for the night.

Rey grit her teeth in indignation. “Where am I supposed to sleep then, huh? This is the only cavern I’ve seen since yesterday, and  it’s looking like rain tonight.” The beast narrowed its eyes at her, the barbed tip of its tail flicking. It cocked its head, then lunged upward with one great sweep of its wings.

And again, Rey found herself picked up by the beast, held in its front talons. “What the - where are you taking me?” she demanded, but her cries were lost in the wind.

Several minutes later, she was deposited at the mouth of another cavern - again, she landed on her bottom. She picked herself up and surveyed her surroundings. Whether the dragon knew it or not, it had shortened her journey buy half a day. The cavern itself seemed empty and dry.

“What, did the other cave house your hoard?” Rey asked, not expecting an answer.

She wasn’t given one. The dragon bared its teeth at her and huffed, smoke coming from its nose, and in one great flap of its wings was off. It blended in with the dark twilight sky; Rey followed it with her eyes for as long as she could, but lost it before she could see where it landed.

The third time Rey saw the dragon, it had a tear in its wing.

It showed up the sunrise after it dropped her off,  waking her by growling softly and scratching at the mouth of the cavern. For one sleep-addled moment, Rey was reminded of a one of the sandcats she fed back home. She had named it Sahar. It would paw at her open window, never quite coming inside, and meow until she fed it her dinner scraps. She smiled to herself at the thought - that sandcat was one of the few things she missed about Jakku-, and, figuring that the beast would have killed her already if that’s what it wanted, packed her bag and went to meet it.

It backed away as she approached, spreading its wings. The left one had a tear in it, nearly the length of her forearm, still bloody.

And Rey had the feeling that it was expecting her to help.

“Isn’t your spit supposed to heal that?” Rey asked. The dragon shook its head in a gesture that Rey swore was a “no,” and flicked the back of her calves with the flat edge of its tail.

Rey sighed. “Fine. You helped me, I’ll help you. I’ve got a kit.” She retrieved the tin of ointment and a needle from her bag and the dragon laid down, outstretching its injured wing. Rey knelt down and examined the wound. The membrane of its wings were thick; she wouldn’t want to meet whatever had managed to pierce through and make a tear nearly the length of her arm.

“Fight with a griffin?” she asked. The dragon huffed. When Rey went to touch it, to dab the ointment on, the dragon hissed.

“Don’t be a baby,” she scolded. “Do you want me to heal you or not? This needs a lot more than ointment…”

The dragon huffed softly, and Rey swore that it rolled its eyes at her. But it settled.

She bit her lip, thinking. Only twice before had she had to sew herself up after a cut, and both of those had been much smaller than the dragon’s injury. That, and her skin was much thinner than the membrane of its wing - would her hair even work as a suture? Ever since she learned healing spells, she’d used that as a crutch. Magic certainly would be technically easier, but would human magic work on the dragon?

One way to find out.

Rey spread the ointment around the edges of the wound. The ointment itself was enchanted specifically to complement the healing spells she knew; before she set out on her journey, she made it a point to master them.

Rey placed her hands over the injury and concentrated, called upon the well of magic inside of her, and instead of directing it to her own injury, she pressed outward, guided the magic to the injury. It took little coaxing; the golden threads of her magic found the wound easily and stitched the membrane together in sure, quick strokes, almost as if it wanted to heal the dragon.

And the dragon was sitting there, making a rumbling sound that reminded Rey of a contented housecat. It’s tail flicked lazily, and it tucked its wing back to its side when Rey stepped away, thinking.

Dragons were said to be intelligent, and Rey had no doubt of this creature’s sentience. Dragons were magic, and it had healed her - despite being unable to heal itself. And dragons were old, the last of them born during the great Empire.

Maybe…

She took a breath and said, “I’m searching for a Luke Skywalker, the legendary sorcerer. I’m hoping to learn from him.”

The dragon snorted derisively.

You need a better teacher than Skywalker.

The voice was in the back of her mind, clear as day, and definitely not hers.

“Was…was that you? Did you just…speak to me?”

You know healing but not basic communication? Strange.

Not only was the dragon talking to her; it -he?- was talking down to her. Rey made a face. “You don’t need to - to put your voice in another’s head when you learn from books.”

I’ll not allow Skywalker to squander another mageling’s potential, it said. I can show you magics that Skywalker couldn’t dream of.

Rey gaped at it. A dragon - a creature of magic, a supposedly extinct creature of magic - was offering to teach her. She could hardly believed her luck. But…

“You know him?  Luke Skywalker?”

The legends are true, he said. But you wouldn’t be able to find him. He is in a self-imposed exile.

Rey swallowed, her mind whirling a mile a minute.  “Are you offering to teach me?”

I thought it were obvious. He made a rumbling sound. There is nothing Skywalker could offer that I cannot.

Dammit - the dragon was laughing at her.

“I don’t even know your name. Or what makes you even able to teach me magic. You couldn’t even heal your own wing.”

You may call me Kylo Ren. And there was basilisk poison in that cut.

Rey took a breath. She’d clung onto this mission to find Luke Skywalker for so long - and three months into her travels, and she was no closer to the famed Isle of Albion where he was rumored to be. A dragon offering what was for all intense and purposes an apprenticeship…

It’s something out of the great legends, she thought to herself. The last mage to be trained directly by the dragons was the ancient sorcerer Obi Wan Kenobi - and that was five hundred years ago.

The dragon might know where Skywalker was. Perhaps, one day, he would tell Rey.

Perhaps the dragon might have the answers she sought.

Before her courage could leave, she said, “I…accept.”

Kylo Ren dipped his head and touched his snout to her forehead. It felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice over her at the touch; the hair on her arms stood up, and lightning flooded her veins, her blood, her bones.

What did you just do to me! The thought boomed and echoed, and Rey had the strangest sense that it wasn’t entirely private.

I facilitated the mental link, he said - and was it her imagination, but was his voice clearer? It is common between master and apprentice. Mental links - and knowing how to form them - is a rather basic skill. I’m surprised you haven’t learned it.

Yeah, Rey thought, directing a sour tone at him, you’ve made that clear. So now I’m in your head too…?

We will start tomorrow, he told her. Go back to your cave. I will find you at dawn.

You don’t even know where I’ll be!

You’re the only mageling for miles. It won’t be hard to find you.

And with that he took off, wings creating great gusts of wind in his wake. Rey watched him disappear behind the clouds, overcome by a surreal sense of awe.

Magic calls to magic indeed.

Chapter Text

Those first few weeks were the busiest of Rey's life. 

She'd taken to staying in a long-abandoned hospice she'd found hewn into the mountainside. It had been run by a religious order at one point - The Attendants, if Rey were reading the glyphs right - but now lay in disrepair. Still, the structure was solid and the front door was sturdy. She'd take it.

Many of the old rooms were covered in layers of dust. Rey had taken one of the least-dusty rooms and cleaned it, made good use of the feathered mattress and the large hearth. 

The village at the foot of the mountains was friendly enough to her, outsider that she was. She used what coin she had to buy herself clothes, making friends with the merchants along the way.

Every morning she'd meet Kylo Ren in a clearing on the mountainside, where he'd explain magical theory and run her through basic drills, guide her through meditation. 

"This," Rey said one day, "Is rudimentary. I already know all of this -"

Clearly, he said in her head - and that was still taking some getting used to. But when you learn by imitation, you imitate mistakes. Be patient, little bird.

And Rey had grumbled, but she'd sensed the warning tone in his voice and didn't want to push her luck. She finished the exercises with as much gusto as she could muster. 

After, he said, I will meet you here tomorrow at sunrise, and left.

Rey took his dismissal in stride. Kylo Ren had been in a good mood today; his brisk departure was nothing new. And besides - she was hungry. She’d set a hearty rabbit stew to cook over the hearth that morning – one of the mountain hares had gotten caught in one of the snares she’d set up the previous evening, and she’d found tubers – loads of them – in a forgotten disused farm outside the village.

She was going to eat so well tonight.

That was perhaps her favorite thing of living in such a temperate climate – the availability of food. Not grainy flour turned into halfhearted bread, but real food. Once she got adept at healing, Rey had plans to live in the village and offer her services as a doctor – perhaps in exchange for eggs, or chickens, or cheese…

Stars, she was hungry.

She slowed her walk as she rounded down the corner, hearing voices.

“We’ve been lost for days,” one voice – a man’s voice – said. “I say we just take it and run…”

“That’s rude,” said another man. “We should wait, see if there’s hospitality.”

“But what if there isn’t?”

“Then we ask how to get down this godforsaken mountain.”

“Look Poe, there’s magic here – don’t give me that look, I can sense it…“

Rey clutched her staff and took a peak. Two men, looking haggard and dirty, stood outside of her hut. The smell of the stew was strong, and mouthwatering, and Rey narrowed her eyes. So they knew she was a mage.

They’d steal her food over her dead body.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, approaching them with long strides and a fast pace.The younger one looked panicked; the older, with deep-set eyes smiled easily, and said, “I didn’t expect to see a mage in these mountains.”

 “I didn’t expect to see anyone,” Rey snapped. “Now get away from my hut.”

 He paused, then laughed. “I suppose we make an odd pair, don’t we? We mean no harm. My name is Poe. My companion here is Finn.”

“You’re a mage,” Finn stated, sizing her up.

“So are you,” Rey said, not blinking.

“Do you have salt?” Poe asked, breaking the tension.

At Rey’s quizzical look, he said, “We brought salt – to trade in the town. It’s a bit useless without a meal – but then again, a meal is useless without salt.”

A small smirk played on Rey’s lips. Bartering with food was the currency back in Jakku.

And that was how the two travelers ended up sharing food at her table that evening.

Rey used bread to sop up the juices of her stew. It was delicious, with the added bit of salt – more flavorful and savory. Perhaps she could forgive them for attempting to steal her food if they loaned her more…

The men ate ravenously, telling her stories of their travels between mouthfuls.

“Our horses got spooked and fled,” Finn said. “We’ve been looking for them for days.”

Rey had a sneaking suspicion at what exactly had led to the disappearance of their horses, but she kept her mouth shut. “You’ll want mules for the mountain,” she told them instead. “They’re more surefooted. Won’t let you run them to death the same way a horse would.”

Also, Kylo hated the taste of mules. Absolutely despised them.

“I used to be with the Armada,” Poe told her. “We’re looking for Maz. She’s the Regnant of the Outer Regions, and the only one who could stop the war.”

The war – the one that was constantly raging on the peripheries of Rey’s world, the one that had begun long before she’d been born and would probably still be raging after she died.  

“I’ve never heard of a Maz,” Rey told them. “But the town is nearby. Maybe someone there will know.”

“Maz is great,” Finn said with a grin. “She was the one who taught me – well, everything I know. Which isn’t much.”

“What happened to her?”

“One of her ports got destroyed in crossfire, and she retreated. Last I heard, she was marching the Imperium. We’re technically in her territory."

Rey mulled it over, but wasn't sure how to reply. The seat of the Imperium was nearly a thousand miles away. She'd seen some officers when she lived in Jakku; most of them were fine, as far as boisterous young men went - but some of them...

Finn dragged her out of her thoughts. "So...who taught you?”

Rey balked. She didn’t want to tell them about Kylo, about a dragon that was supposed to be extinct. And much as she liked the two strangers' company, excited as she was to meet another mage, Kylo was a secret she'd prefer to keep.

“Books, mostly,” she settled on. “Once you settle into town, I can loan you some manuscripts if you like.” Not untrue – half of Kylo’s tutelage involved her deciphering old manuscripts. He wouldn’t let her touch the Gray Language yet, but he promised she could one day… “You should be able to find work easily, especially if you’re starting out as a merchant.”

Poe grinned. “That was the plan.”

They continued swapping stories long after their meal had ended. “Jakku!” Poe exclaimed. “I thought only lizards and raiders lived there?”

“That’s about right,” Rey conceded. “Getting out was a blessing.”

Finn whistled under his breath. “I can imagine.”

After, Rey showed them to the path that would lead to the town. “I’ll visit you as soon as I can,” she promised. “I’ll bring manuscripts with me.”

Finn thanked her, Poe bid her good night, and they were off.

When Rey returned to her home, there was a kriffing dragon in front of it. He was crouched like a cat, tail flicking in irritation, golden eyes narrowed to slits.

“What do you want, Kylo?”

You offered to help train the Carthaginian apostate.

Rey gave an exasperated sigh. It was too late for this – she was tired and wanted to sleep. “I offered to loan him a basic manuscript. Quit worrying – I didn’t tell them about you.”

They know where you live.

“They got lost – that’s how they found me. I doubt they’d be able to find me again.”

He narrowed his eyes. You will sleep in my cave tonight.

“Kylo, I can hold my own against them. They were half-starving when they found me – seriously, don’t look like that, they only had salt on them. Besides, I’m tired. I don’t feel like hiking up to your cavern.”

Kylo snorted, smoke tailing up from his nostrils. I would prefer my apprentice in one piece. Not everyone in the village is mage-friendly, little bird. I will take you.

Rey sighed. She’d been in the village, and while she hadn’t announced her mage status, she hadn’t detected any sort of ill sentiment towards magical folk.

“Fine,” she acquiesces. “Just for tonight. If my hut isn’t ransacked, we’ll know that you’re paranoid.”

He gave her one long, steady look. We’ll see. He lowered himself, the invitation obvious.

Rey hesitated. She’d never…ridden him before. The only time he’d flown with her she’d been trapped in his paws, dangerously close to his talons. This…

She pushed past her hesitation away and set to figure out how to climb up him. Even crouched down, his shoulders were taller than she was. Rey put her hand on his scales – they were rough, but not sharp enough to cut, and shiny in the moonlight.

Rey gripped the scales where his neck met his shoulders as best she could and hefted herself up, surprised when Kylo’s snout nudged her bottom, helping her up. She situated herself, putting a knee on either side of his neck, careful to keep her legs clear of his wings.

Rey barely had time to hold on before he was off with one mighty gust of his wings, soaring up into the night sky. Rey threw her arms around the base of his neck, knees clenching his hide for dear life.

I’ll not drop you, little bird.

Now she kept her eyes closed the entire time.

They landed at the mouth of a large cavern. Kylo ducked in, Rey in tow.

The inside was enormous, the ceiling high enough for Kylo to fully extend his neck, the diameter wide enough for him to extend his wings and have room left over. There was an array of manuscripts, piles of gold and precious stones, pieces and stained-glass windows raided from churches, ancient frescoes. In the back, there was a pool of water, fed by a trickle that came down from a stalactite. Off to the right was a mass of blankets, cushions, and pillows – Rey assumed that was where Kylo slept.

It was marvelous, but Rey was tired.

“And where am I supposed to sleep?”

There was something on his face, his eyes, that made Rey suspect that the dragon hadn’t thought that far. On the cushions, he said, already ambling over to his nest. There is more than enough room. Eventually we will get you a proper bed.

“I’m just staying the night,” Rey reminded him.

We’ll see, he said, curling up on top of the cushions. Once he was settled, Rey found a place for herself – underneath a blanket, atop a pile of pillows, and far enough away from Kylo’s talons that he wouldn’t accidentally injure her should he awake and forget she was there.

She fell asleep within minutes – the blankets were warm and the pillows were more luxurious than anything she’d ever slept on in her life.

It was the deepest sleep she’d had in over a decade.

Rey wound up staying with Kylo.

It was relaxing, wonderful, magnificent, to not have to sleep with one eye open.

If Kylo had been human, they would sleep in shifts. But he was a dragon, in a cavern that could only be reached by flight. There was no way in hell any raiders, or rapists, or brigands were going to harass them while they slept, and even if they did, well.

Kylo was a fucking dragon.

They didn’t stand a chance.

Rey slept in a dry grotto. She’d piled the cushions three deep underneath her, kept blankets of wool and silk and cashmere, dyed in rich, vibrant colors. The walls of the grotto made her feel cozy, safe. 

More than ever, Rey looked forward to sleeping. She’d always bid Kylo a good night, and he’d respond with a good night, little bird, of his own. He was usually out by the time Rey woke up in the mornings, but she didn’t mind.

Here, nobody could touch her.

Here, she had a dragon.

Chapter Text

Kylo can sense the girl’s frustration as she struggles to get the spell right. He’s basking in the sun just outside the mouth of the cavern; Rey is several yards away, trying to coax the seed within the loam into a flower.

He could tell her that that particular seed is a nightflower, that it only blooms under the light of the half-moon, let alone during the day, but there are some things the mageling will have to figure out for herself.

This is one of them.

He keeps an eye cracked open, watching her. She’s kneeling in one of the few loamy patches on the mountainside, where she’s already planted sage, ginger, and rosemary. So far, she’s only used the herbs as scents, adorning herself in them for reasons that are beyond Kylo’s ken. It’s a silly mortal practice, he has no doubt.

She’s frowning now, dirt caked under her nails and a streak on her cheek. Eventually she makes a frustrated noise and, apparently giving up, lays on her back, squinting her eyes shut.

Kylo gives a huff of contempt. Unless she’s figured out he’s set her to a useless task, he will not tolerate giving up – in his eyes, it is worse than outright failure.

He heaves himself up, stalks over to where she’s lying, and nudges her with his snout.

“Stop,” she says aloud, which means she must be concentration on something. She knows he prefers mental communication – it’s easier for him to decipher thoughts over spoken word – so he waits.

And, to his surprise, the nightflower sprouts.

He watches with something akin to awe as the sprout grows and grows until it’s a vine climbing up the uneven mountainside and – to his utter shock – the silvery flowers uncurl their petals.

From her vantage point on the ground, she grins up at him. You thought you had me, she says, smug.

Pride blooms in his chest. She’d exceeded his expectations beautifully. Are you tired?

She yawns. A little. It’s using my life force.

The toll will wear off in a few hours once it takes root. As long as you live, it will bloom.

She yawns again, and shuts her eyes. He feels her consciousness brush against his in acknowledgement, then ebb and flow into a light sleep.

Kylo hums to himself, eyeing the flowers. The blooms were large, healthy, the vine a dark green. As long as Rey lived, as long as magic flowed through her veins, these flowers would bloom – Kylo wondered if they’d continue to bloom during the day, or if they’d only open at night. Time, he presumed, would tell.

They’ll likely take over the mountainside, he thinks to himself. Nightflowers were tantamount to weeds in the way the vines spread. But somehow, Kylo couldn’t bring himself to mind too terribly. They were Rey’s flowers, proof his apprentice was learning – and quickly, too.

She’d be a force to be reckoned with yet.

Rey was returning from spending the day in town – primarily with Finn, going over basic spells and enchantments – and there was nothing she wanted more than to soak her aching muscles in a hot bath and curl up in her grotto.

But of course, things hadn’t gone as planned.

Presently Rey is walking down the mountainside, bag in hand, cloak pulled around herself and fuming. Kylo – that kriffing bastard of a lizard – deserved a suckerpunch right to the snout. How dare he insult her like that? Insult her friends?

Rey stops at her old hut to gather the remains of her things. Manuscripts, her iron frying pan, a few sentimental things…

Her hand pauses over a crystal on her windowsill. Kylo had taken to giving her those, small shiny trinkets. Really, he was more of a magpie than a dragon, going after anything that was shiny. She remembers the day he’d left it for her vividly: it was in the beginning, when she still lived alone. The semiprecious stones were left at her doorstep, and she’d put them all on the windowsill, where they’d catch the light from the setting sun.

Upon seeing them, Rey finds herself thinking back to their fight and in a fit of anger she throws the crystals across the room. To her frustration, they don’t even break.

“Stupid, stupid dragon!” she shouts. How dare he insult her like that? Her friends? To assume the worst with no proof, then accuse her left and right of lying?

She thinks back to their argument with a pang; he casted her out, and now she had no teacher, no place to stay. She’d taken her things – her things, none of anything he’d given her – and left. She wouldn’t be berated like that, wouldn’t be treated like an incompetent child, wouldn’t stand to see her friends – the only ones she’d had – insulted.

Good riddance, she thinks, and casts a misdirection spell over her hut for safety.

Within a week, she finds a new teacher.  A troll by the name of Unkar, who offered his tutelage in exchange for scavenged herbs and crystals. Rey used Kylo’s crystals to pay him – at least the stupid lizard was coming in useful.

The troll is an ugly creature, not nearly as elegant or refined as Kylo, but he doesn’t insult her friends or insist that she live with him. He doesn’t give her impossible tasks without a direction, and he doesn’t seem to permanently hold her in contempt.

Sometimes, she misses Kylo.

But she doesn't dwell on it. If he didn't want her as an apprentice, fine. There was nothing she could do to change his mind.

Stupid girl.

She had left after their argument. Left. The only evidence that she’d lived in his cavern was the pile of cushions and blankets in her grotto. She hadn’t taken anything with her; Kylo had assumed she’d be back.

She hadn’t.

Word in the mountain travelled fast, and within the month he hears whispers from the crows that the troll on the East Mountain, Unkar, had taken on a mageling as an apprentice.

Kylo doesn’t pay the rumor heed. The girl would soon find that trolls were not nearly as adept in the ways of magic as dragons were, that there was nothing Unkar had to offer her. The girl’s thirst for knowledge outweighed her common sense, and Kylo just had to wait for her to come to her senses.

Two months, then three, passes without hide or hair of Rey. Kylo is growing impatient – he hadn’t severed the apprentice contract, had no desire to, but really, this was ridiculous.

It is the twelfth day of the fourth month – not that he’s counting – when he is awoken by a call in the middle of the night.

Rey was in trouble.

Rey was in trouble and he couldn’t find her.

Kylo searched franticly, flying faster than a beast his size ought to be able to. Guilt pulsed through him – he should have never snapped at her, should have never insulted her like that, should have never driven her away in his temper. She’d sought out tutelage elsewhere, under a goblin – but her new mentor had allowed her to be kidnapped, to be bought and sold like cattle.

He had warned her about trolls – but her desire to learn outweighed her self-preservation, stupid girl.

If anything happened to her while she was on her own without her staff, it would be his fault. He sped through the skies, scrying for Rey, unable to pinpoint her location in his mind’s eye. He could only see her, feel her pain as real as if it were his own. She was curled up on herself, knees to her chest, tears streaming down her face –

Rey! He needed to break her out of her torment, to clear her mind. He could feel her through their link, but instead of Rey it was madness madness madness, surging so thickly that he could scarcely breathe.

But still he plowed on. Rey! Where are you!

There was no answer, nothing explicit, just flashes of images and sounds and scents – just enough for Kylo Ren to get a general location.

South. The Southern Tribes.

Rey had been sold to slavers, and knowing the Southerner’s reputation, would likely be traded as a concubine.

Over my dead body.

He arrived in record time, ignoring the ache in his muscles. His apprentice was in trouble, and he was going to get her out of it.

He landed in the middle of the camp with a roar, his tail knocking over the sacred fire the tribesmen tended to. Kylo didn’t care – their gods be damned. He would raze heaven and hell to the ground for her.

Several of the men attempted to capture him, to no avail – a sweep of his claws, a gnash of his teeth, and they were no longer a problem. They shouted in a tongue he didn’t understand, nor one he cared to; they would not make a slave out of his apprentice. 

He gave another mighty roar, allowing a jet of flame to escape his maw, burning the ground and tents and slavers within his reach, and cried out Rey! Where are you?

Kylo? It was a weak response, a surprised response, and he felt himself ache. She hadn’t expected him to come find her.

It’s me, little bird. Where are you?

I…I think I’m underground.

Her thoughts were weak, but they were there. Kylo searched, eyes honing in on a thatch mat laid over a hole. He swiped it away and down, in a pit, was Rey. No longer crying, no longer sitting, but still looking worse for wear. There was hope written on her face.

Quartz cuffs were on her wrists.

Kylo felt his ire rise. How dare they. Quartz would block magic, would render a magic-user blind and deaf to their gift, forced to see the world in black and white. It was a wonder he could communicate with her at all.

He lowered his head and nudged her. Rey scrambled up as best she could, laying her torso on the bridge of his nose and grasping at his horns as he lifted her out of the pit, onto the ground. He maked quick work of her cuffs with his claws, and then nudged her up and onto his back.

He had half a mind to raze the remains of the camp to the ground, but he restrained himself; priority right now was bringing Rey home.

He was off like a light, blending in perfectly with the night sky. He flew at a breakneck speed to his cave and landed as gently as he possibly could, lowering his belly to the ground so Rey could slide off.

He steadied her with his snout as she stumbles, guided her with his tail into their home. Her clothes were torn, and she had several scratches on her neck and face. They tried to rape her, he was almost certain. He wondered how she avoided such a predicament, but knew better than to ask just yet.

Did they hurt you?

“I-I can heal myself,” Rey said, ignoring his question. She was swaying on her feet but refused to use him for support, refused to so much as look at him. “I’m going to – to heal myself, and wash, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Silly girl didn’t know what she was saying – his temper or not, she was in no condition to be on her way anywhere. He huffed, smoke coming out of his nostrils, but did not argue with her. I will stand watch.

She retreated to the corner of the cave that he’d come to designate as hers – complete with a pile of blankets and pillows she used as a bed – and she sat down and healed herself, the pale blue glow of magic emitting from her fingers. He then watched as she retreated to the far end of the cave, where a pool of water dripped down, and disrobed. She was unharmed for the most part, merely covered in dirt, but there was a branding on the back of her neck…

Kylo narrowed his eyes. It was a serial number, a slave’s number, and it hadn’t been there before. The numbers had been branded into her with hot iron, marring the soft, freckled skin of her neck.

He felt his ire rise again. How dare they capture and brand his apprentice?

She moved slowly, as if her muscles were sore; Kylo Ren had a salve that would ease the pain – he could even heat water for her, so she could relax in a hot bath…

But he did not offer; her mind was closed to him, so much so he could scarcely even sense her presence. He would wait – she was still upset with him, most likely, though Kylo wished to understand why. As if he’d truly drive her away, as if he’d hurt her. He’d taken her as his responsibility when they made the Apprentice Contract, and he took vows very seriously.

Still, he felt guilty. He remembered what it was like, to be as volatile and as easily hurt as a mortal. Rey would have to unlearn those ways, should she become a fully-fledge mage. 

She dressed herself and stood, gathering her bag. She approached him with her chin held high; he lowered his head to meet her eyes. He watched as she swallowed, said, “Thank you for finding me. I’ll be on my way now, Kylo.”

She lowered her eyes and made to leave. Kylo blocked her attempt, head-butting her lightly.

You are asleep on your feet, little bird. Rest here.

“I – I don’t think that would be appropriate, Kylo.”

You are my apprentice. I am bound to -

“I am not your apprentice,” Rey said, voice icy. “You are not bound to-“

Kylo growled, more in frustration than true anger. If I’d wanted the vow undone, I would have done it by now. I would have cauterized the bond when you took up tutelage under the troll. I would not have searched the far ends of the region when you cried out. Do not insult my –

“I didn’t ask you to,” Rey said, glaring at him with a look that could kill. “You didn’t have to-“

And what would have become of you had I not? He snapped.

Rey glared. “I guess we’ll never find out, will we?”

And they were stuck at an impasse, yellow eyes meeting hazel in a tense staring match.

“Tomorrow – “ Rey began, just as he said, ­­Tomorrow you will resume your apprenticeship under a competent teacher.

Kylo left no room for argument. When Rey didn’t respond, he leaned his head forward and touched his nose to her forehead; there was a pleasant surge of magic in her veins at that. He saw into her mind – just glimpses, nothing that wasn’t on the surface. She was debating, walking the tightrope between staying and leaving.

And when I find Unkar, he added, I will teach you all the uses for troll heart, kidneys, and liver.

“Gross,” she mumbled, but a corner of her mouth turned up. Can you also teach me how to render flesh?

Of course, little bird, Kylo said, unable to conceal his pride at her bloodthirst. She would make the troll suffer for what he had done, and Kylo would watch with anticipation as she exacted her own pound of flesh.

He twitched his tail, beckoned her to follow him as he settled into the mass of pillows and blankets he used as a nest. He curled up, and when she seated herself several feet away from him, he tugged her with his tail until she was leaning against his side. Rest, he told her. You are safe here.

Rey wrapped herself in a blanket and curled up next to him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Of course, little bird.

That night, Kylo watches her sleep.

She is unharmed for the most part, merely covered in dirt, but there was a branding on the back of her neck…

 Kylo narrows his eyes. It is a serial number, a slave’s number, and it hadn’t been there before. The numbers had been branded into her with hot iron, marring the soft, freckled skin of her neck.

 He feels his ire rise again. How dare they capture and brand his apprentice?

 Had it been one of his clearer days, he would have left it at that, would have fallen asleep beside Rey. But it is not one of his clearer days. Kylo casts a protective spell over the cavern, gives one last glance at his sleeping apprentice flies south in the direction of the camp.

 He could see it from some distance away - he’d destroyed most of their square, their altar, their market. Good. He would raze the entire Marches to the ground if it meant exacting his pound of flesh. The world needed to know that harming his apprentice was a direct insult to him – and it would be treated as such.

 Perhaps the slavers thought he was an angry god; perhaps they thought he was a curse, their punishment for mingling with magic, as was forbidden by their religion.

 Whatever they thought, it is lost to the ages. No one will remember their history, and that is Kylo’s punishment unto them.

 Kylo feels his mind clear as he flew away, acutely aware of the blood and gore that he is covered in. He stops by a large, rapidly-flowing river nearby and washes the human flesh off of him. He has no taste for humans, truly would rather avoid them. He’d make an exception to killing for sport if it meant keeping his apprentice safe.

Rest easy, little bird, he thinks to himself, dipping his snout in the river and watching as the water turns pink. You will be safe with me.

In the morning, she wakes up to a new spell book beside her, the closest thing to an apology her dragon is capable of giving. He has let her sleep in – a rare occurrence – and when she exist the mouth of the cave, he is sitting just outside, basking in the sun.

You will find all of a troll’s weaknesses on page ninety-four, he tells her. My favorite is iron. On page fifty there are tracking spells, and on eighty-nine you will find concealing enchantments…

He trails off, peering at her curiously. What’s wrong, little bird?

Rey bites her lip, unsure if she wants to reopen old wounds. “If I’m going to be your apprentice, you need to be more – you need to let me have my life.”

He is hesitant, Rey can tell. Whatever do you mean?

“I am – I’m not a dragon. I don’t live for centuries. The friends I have now are important to me, and you need to respect that.”

He huffs. The last time you left this mountain you were sold into slavery.

“Then teach me how to fight! Make it so I’ll never be helpless again!”

For a brief, terrifying moment, Rey thinks she angered him; but he merely flicks his tail at the book she’s holding, and says, Combat magic is on page three hundred and twelve. You will want to start with the very basics. Open it – you have much to learn.

Chapter Text

Rey ambled back up the mountain, weighed down by the assortment of things she’d bought at the town market. She bought basic things, liked cured meats that she could cook, and not-so-basic things, like fabrics for clothes, vellum, and an iron blade.

The fabric she wanted to experiment with, use magic to create a lightweight armor made from regular clothes. It would not only save Rey the time she spent mending the clothes that got torn on the rough mountain rocks, but it would also offer protection. After her incident with the troll, and the slavers…

Well. Rey wasn’t taking any chances. That’s where the blade came in handy.

The vellum – sheepskin parchment – was for Rey to keep track of her training, to take notes. Some of the old tomes Kylo had her read offered superfluous information that was nice to know, but held no practical purpose.  This would be her cheat sheet.

She’d visited Finn and Poe back in the town, had spent the night at their house. Finn was earning a living as a physician, using his knowledge of herbs and magic to treat and heal all aliments the townspeople came down with. Poe was a jack-of-all-trades; in the mornings, he hunted venison and sold the carcass to the butcher; by night he was a bard, spinning yarns for the town to hear.

Rey noticed that his sword was mounted above the door frame, masked as a decorative feature.

“Why don’t you just move into town?” Finn asked Rey as she was getting ready to leave. “It seems much easier, especially with winter on its way…”

Rey offered a small smile. His offer was tempting, but Rey had grown fond of living in the cave with Kylo. “I like my solitude. I’ll be okay.” At his worried look, Rey continued, “If it gets really bad, I won’t hesitate to come into town and make you responsible for me.”

Finn laughed at that. “Alright, I believe you.”

She bid him farewell and went home.

Back at the cave, Rey set aside her things on a makeshift stone shelf near her grotto. Kylo followed her with his eyes, then snaked his head forward and gave her back a sniff.

What is that?

“Meat,” Rey said. “It’s easier to buy it in bulk than to run to town every time I want to cook with it.”

Rey was getting better at discerning dragon expressions, and right now Kylo was looking at her as if she were stupid. You do realize I am a hunter, little bird.

“Kylo, I’m not about to build a smokehouse –“ Rey cut herself off when he threw her another look.

“Right. Dragon.”

His tail curled in amusement. Next time I hunt, you will accompany me.

“Thanks,” Rey said. He ambled out of the cave, gesturing for her to follow with his tail. Come. There is a new technique I want you to try…

Stars above, the girl loved flying.

It was not like Kylo to allow himself to be used as transport cattle, but there were some places only accessible through flight, and his apprentice refused to be carried in his paws.

(Truthfully, landing was much easier if he had his hands free, but he didn’t tell her that.)

So there she was, sitting at the juncture of his neck and shoulders and clinging on for dear life, knees digging into him and hands gripping onto one of the spikes on his spine.

As if he’d let her fall.

But soon she relaxed; he felt the moment when she opened her eyes, and then he felt the sheer euphoria course through her. It was a gorgeous day - the skies were clear, the breeze was cool and the sun was warm - a perfect morning in late autumn. 

Is it always this amazing? She asked.

Yes.

To prove his point, Kylo soared upward and back in a loop. Rey let out a shriek when she was upside down, but whooped when he steadied.

Jerk!

He said nothing, just impressed his amusement onto her and in turn, let her euphoria flow through him. He stayed in the skies longer than strictly necessary, and landed as gently as he could in a valley.

Rey slid off of him and steadied herself. He flicked her knee with the tip of his tail, and said, There are several yew trees in this area that you can use to make your staff. I will be hunting; I’ll return by noontime.

It was high time she had a staff, and yew would be the best material. It was not a beginner’s material, no, but she was more than capable of it. A lesser staff would splinter and burst under the sheer amount of magic his apprentice would put through it.

As his apprentice set to her task, he took to the skies once more, this time with the intent of picking off the goats that lived along the mountain.

Rey was halfway through carving her staff when Kylo returned to the valley, some sort of carcass between his teeth. She did her best to ignore the blood and gore, but couldn’t hide her disgust when he dropped it at her feet and nudged it toward her.

Will this suffice?

Rey almost laughed at the absurdity of it all – it reminded her of the same way a cat would leave a mouse on its master’s threshold. It’s a bit much…and I’d need to cook it.

Do so here. You can finish your staff while we wait.

Rey wanted to explain that that was a long task, that she could take it to the butcher in exchange for something already cured, but she didn’t want to insult him; they were still on tentative ground since she’d returned.

Rey made a makeshift hearth and Kylo lit a fire; she cut the haunch into slabs, found some nearby rosemary to season it, and set it to cook. Maybe she’d add it to a stew later…

Kylo was lying down, head on his paws. Rey leaned against the trunk of a tree as the goat cooked, carving the end of her staff. Right now it was the perfect girth, an even weight throughout – she would just need to fix the end, whittle it down so it was even.

Why do you bother cooking your food?

The question surprised her; Rey looked at Kylo, and realized he was serious. She almost answered aloud, but wanted to practice mental communication. Humans can’t digest raw meat.

He hummed to himself. Then why bother with meat at all?

It’s filling – more so than grains – and it’s reliable year-round.

Tubers seem more reliable.

You have to cook those too, Kylo. Solanum is poisonous.

He huffed. Humans are odd creatures.

As if dragons are any better?

He flicked his tail over her thighs and gave a playful growl. Careful, little bird…

They left before sunset. Back home, Kylo showed Rey how to use magic to fashion an icebox, even let her use the back of the cave. It was down a tunnel where he couldn’t reach and lay mostly unused.

Just before Rey started, though, something caught her eye.

It was a gemstone – huge, bigger than her fist – and it reflected just the tiniest bit of light in the back of the cave.

Thoughts of an icebox forgotten, Rey took it, wiping the dust and dirt off with her tunic. It was golden, and as she brought it into the main cavern it reflected the sunlight beautifully. It seemed to hum with energy in her hands – Rey felt like she was holding a heart.

“Kylo?” she called. The dragon was outside, basking in the afternoon sunlight, and made no effort to move. She went right up to his snout. He cracked open an eye and snorted. What is it, little bird?

She held out the gem. “I found this in the cavern – where you told me to build the icebox. It’s…” she didn’t know how to describe it, the pull she felt to it. “It’s powerful.”

He regarded her for a moment. What you have found is corundum, a precious stone. It calls to you, does it not?

Rey nodded.

He shut his eyes. Then it is yours. Use it for your staff – I will show you how to fasten it at the head. Gems have long been used to facilitate magic. We will go over it tomorrow.

This dismissal was an obvious one, but Rey didn’t mind. Kylo was always lazy after he’d eaten. Rey went to the pool in the back of the cavern and washed the gem until it gleamed gold, and set it down on the shelf in her grotto. She had always been a collector – little things, pretty things, useless things – and her collection had grown since she’d began studying under Kylo: petals from her nightflower, small bits of amethyst, even a pearl that she’d found…

And now this – the yellow corundum.

Rey smiled to herself as she settled back with one of Kylo’s manuscripts. She’d do her own research on using gems to amplify magic – now she was curious, and she didn’t want to risk bothering the ornery dragon.

Outside the cavern, Kylo’s mind was racing.

That gem held a dragon heart within.

What Rey sensed – the pull to her- that was the very mind-soul-self of a dragon.

He wasn’t sure how wise it had been, allowing her to use it for her staff –but the feats she’d be able to accomplish with it would be extraordinary.

Though he had to wonder who had managed to slay a dragon, and then capture its heart into a gem? And the gem itself had to be magnificent, of perfect cut, to be able to contain such a thing.

He shoved the thoughts away. Rey was powerful – he had no doubt she’d be able to handle it – and she wouldn’t abuse that power….

Well, at least he couldn’t see her abusing that power.  

Do not disappoint me, little bird.

Chapter Text

Autumn was settling over the mountainside, bringing with it a pleasant chill. It crept up on the country over the course of a day; Kylo and Rey had left that morning to practice offensive spells, and had returned at sunset to a sea of red, orange, and yellow trees.

Rey drank it in, awestruck. “What – what happened to them? It’s so beautiful…”

He hummed in amusement. The trees are going dormant for the winter months; the leaves change pigments and fall off the trees by the start of winter, then regrow in the summer.

She was looking at him with wide-eyed curiosity. “That never happened in Jakku. The few trees we had stayed the same.”

Jakku is a desert. There is no true winter there.

Rey frowned. “How cold does it get?”

The waters ice over and your breath becomes condensation as you breathe. Most animals migrate south.

Rey’s eyes widened. She’d likely never experienced such a cold in her life – even the nights on Jakku wouldn’t have been that frigid. “I…oh. I guess I can light a fire in the cave –“

Absolutely not. Kylo nudged her in the shoulder with his snout to drive his point home. I have too many flammable valuables. The manuscripts could be destroyed. No fires.

“How am I supposed to stay warm, then? I’m already under two or three blankets every night!”

The cave is warmer than it is outside, little bird, Kylo told her. Surely, her mortal constitution would be able to handle winter, right?

“Fine,” Rey grumbled. “But if I’m cold, I’m waking you up to fix it.”

He flicked his tail across the back of her calves in amusement. Of course, little bird.

Again!

Rey groaned. Kylo was drilling her harder than he ever had with this spell, and it was taking a toll on her. This was a basic protection spell; it involved willing the magic around you to form a shield of sorts. Personally, Rey preferred a cloaking spell to this “fortuna” shield – it achieved the same thing without being so complicated.

She’d expressed as much to Kylo. His response had been an irritated that will not help you in the long run, and he hadn’t deigned to acknowledge her list of completely legitimate reasons for a cloaking spell.

They were in a valley between the mountains, one that Kylo reserved for more intense spells. He wasn’t comfortable with massive displays of magic on the mountain top; apparently, some creatures would take that as a threatening territorial display.

Either way, Rey was grateful for the scenery change.

Rey shut her eyes, fist clutching her staff. She exhaled and willed a shield to form around her, to be impenetrable, to be –

Wrong. Kylo’s critique crashed through her concentration, ending the spell. Rey gnashed her teeth and rounded on her master. “Well? What about it is wrong!”

You’re not even using your staff, for one. The purpose of it is to amplify casting, and you’re bypassing it completely! His irritation was rolling off him in waves, and it was doing nothing for Rey’s mood.

Rey took another breath and bit her tongue – lashing out at him wouldn’t help here. She set both hands on her staff, charged it with magic, and began casting. The yellow sapphire at the top glowed gold, and Rey – prompted by something deep in her bones, something old and feral – brought the staff down in front of her with a cry of, “fortunis!”

Flames erupted all around her in a globe, encasing her in a vortex; seconds later, they exploded out from Rey in a circle several feet wide, scorching the grass in their wake. Rey dropped her staff in surprise and the spell stopped.

She looked at Kylo, who looked, of all things, proud.

That is the beauty of the fortuna shield, Kylo told her. You are both on the defensive and the offensive. Some mages learned to keep it up for hours, during the Great Wars. He ambled over and nudged her staff to her feet with his snout. Rey picked it up. You produced a very powerful one. It would have gone longer, had you not panicked.

He sounded amused, the bastard.

“You never said flames were going to appear and burn everything!”

If I had, he said, you would have been too nervous, little bird. You won’t be harmed by your own spells.

Rey leaned on her staff – her limbs were shaking from exertion, not that the initial adrenaline rush had worn off. “Right.

She could sense that Kylo was proud of her; it was a nice feeling, but Rey was too tired to properly appreciate it. Her brain felt like it was thinking through fog, and there was an unpleasant pressure fbehind her eyes.

Kylo touched his snout to her shoulder. Let’s go back. You are exhausted.

“Sorry,” Rey mumbled. Kylo crouched down and as Rey hoisted herself up, he nudged her bottom to help her along. Don’t be – magic like this will exhaust you the first few times. We have to build up your stamina. You did well, little bird. Now rest; I’ll not let you fall.

Kylo landed as gently as he could, deliberately waking Rey up moments before so she would be conscious. He wouldn’t let her fall as he was flying, but there was little he could do during landing.

She was disoriented – so much so that it bled through her psyche and into his. She dismounted and walked back to the cave, leaning on her staff for support. It was getting colder out, and cold weather was horrible for sore muscles. He would’ve liked to take her to the hot springs to the east, but that was several hours of flying there and back. Perhaps another day…

In the meantime, he took one of the smaller boulders from outside the cave and carried it to the back of the cavern. His apprentice watched him with tired eyes. What are you doing?

Your muscles are sore, he told her, dropping the hot stone into the pool at the back of the cavern. It landed with a hiss, instantly warming the water. This will help.

He watched as she disrobed and stepped into the water, giving a sharp sigh as her overworked muscles relaxed. Rey tied her hair up, exposing her neck.

Kylo narrowed his eyes. The brand. The slavers had put it on the back of her neck, weeks ago. He wished he could remove it, or better yet brand her as his own so no kriffing troll would dare take her on as an apprentice and sell her.

But those thoughts were foolish, and Kylo had no time for them. He pushed his anger aside, not wanting it to leak over into Rey’s mind; she was exhausted enough without his troubles.

He rested his head on his paws, content to sit and relax on his cushions. Rey stayed in the pool until the water had cooled, and he watched as water sluiced off her naked form when she stepped out. Kylo could scarcely remember his days as a man, couldn’t tell if Rey was considered desirable or not, but she held herself with a grace that made her an exquisite creature. Her muscles were well-defined, her skin looked soft, and her bottom had a healthy roundness to it. Her eyes were big and round like a doe’s, but intelligent like a crow’s. She tugged on a clean tunic and trousers, then took a bearskin stole and curled up next to him.

His apprentice had taken to sleeping next to him, in the colder months. Kylo hadn’t budged on allowing a fire in the cavern and she, so painfully mortal, couldn’t bear the cold. Kylo had an eternal fire in his belly – in all his days as a dragon, he hadn’t been cold once.

This was their compromise. She propped several pillows against his flank and curled into his side. If the wind made it through the mouth of the cave, he’d shield her with his wing. Tonight was a still one, so instead he draped the end of his tail across her thighs.

She was still sore, so thoroughly exhausted, but also nervous – she hadn’t told Kylo, but she’d been having nightmares nearly every night. Bad ones, too, from the glimpses he’d seen through the bond.

Relax, he told her, sending a wave of calming magic her way. You did well, little bird.

Rey mumbled something sleepily and shifted to her side. The marks on her neck caught his eye again, and Kylo was struck with an idea. He dipped his head, snaked out his tongue, and began licking at the brand.

Rey squeaked. “What in the name of the Maker are you doing?”

Getting rid of that offensive brand. Now stay still. He continued, tongue scraping away at the scarred skin. Dragons had magic flowing through their very veins – surely if he wanted to rid Rey of this scar, he could. Magic, willpower, and dragon spit should do the trick.

To his satisfaction, it worked. The brand faded, replaced by silvery lines where the deepest scar tissue hadn’t healed. Rey has finally relaxed, but the muscles in her neck occasionally tensed under his tongue.

When he finished, the letters and numbers and scars had completely faded He projected his pleasure onto Rey, who rolled her eyes at him in response.

“Was that really necessary?”

I quite prefer you without it.

Rey sighed, then, quietly: “Thank you, Kylo.”

He brushed his snout over her shoulder. Of course he’d rid her of another’s ownership, no matter how symbolic.

Sleep well, little bird.

He shut his eyes, lulled into sleep by his apprentice’s breathing.

When Kylo wakes, he’s not himself. It’s a form he hasn’t taken in centuries, one he has to relearn. He is a man, the muscles all wrong and pitifully weak.

He is in the same position he was when he’d fallen asleep: lying naked on his stomach atop the cushions, Rey curled into his side, the warm puffs of her breath tickling his shoulder.

He tenses his muscles, twitches his fingers. Once he has a hold of this strange form he shifts, facing his apprentice. She’s sound asleep, clutching at the deep red blanket she’s curled in.

Kylo is curious; her breath is warm against him, and here he can feel her body heat more acutely. He can feel more now, but he sensed less – he isn’t sure if he liked the trade off.

But he knows this was a dream, knows that upon his next waking he’ll be in his familiar dragon form.

It is with a tentative hand that he reaches out and touches his fingers to Rey’s cheek. Her skin is soft, a sensation that he hadn’t felt before, and warm. He brushes her hair away, surprised at the texture – softer than a horse’s mane, thicker than spider silk.

He is suddenly overcome with the urge to have her closer, to wrap her in his arms and shield her with his chest, to experience the warm and the soft for all that he can.

But he does not – he trails his fingers over the shell of her ear, her cheek, her nose – gentle touches, whispers of skin on skin. He has no wish to wake her. His apprentice had had a long day and he would not interrupt her dreaming with his own.

He takes the edge of the blanket that Rey is not using and slides under it – this form is not impervious to the cold, it seems – and keeps close enough to Rey to feel the warmth. He’s lulled back to sleep by the sound of her breathing, and when he wakes up she’s slumped against his flank.

And he was a dragon once more.

He nudged her awake with his snout. Wake up, little bird. It’s time to get going…  

Rey was prompted by a gnawing curiosity to visit the cavern at the bottom of the gorge.

It was where she’d almost fell – where she’d first met Kylo. She’d asked him why he’d bothered to rescue her in the first place. Her dragon had given her a long look before finally saying, I was protecting my most precious horde.

Rey wondered what that could even be; his main cave was filled with several kingdom’s worth of wealth; the goblet she’d drank out of that morning would’ve sold for high enough to feed herself for a lifetime. The spellbooks he had, the knowledge he hoarded there as well – Rey wouldn’t be surprised if he had the Philosopher’s Stone itself.

Knowledge and wealth – what could possibly be more valuable or more precious than that?

She wandered down the side of the gorge. It was a gray, windy day in late fall, not officially winter yet, and the river that usually ran at the bottom had trickled to a small creek.  Rey walked along the side, keeping her hand on the rough side of the steep wall. If she knew Kylo – and she suspected she knew him pretty well – the hoard would either be concealed with magic or only accessible by flight.

She had a sprig of purple sage with her and a simple levitation spell memorized; between the two, she shouldn’t miss it.

To her surprise, she didn’t need either. The only cave in the gorge was right at the bottom, only atop a few large rocks. It only had a small opening – Kylo would’ve only been able to stick his head in, maybe a forearm.

Rey frowned, but nonetheless entered. The air was stale, as if the autumn winds didn’t affect it. It was dark, too; Rey cast a witchlight spell as she moved towards the heart of the cave. A small globe of light appeared at the ceiling of the cavern, illuminating the entire cave.

Rey looked around. The main room was covered in…what looked like an old closet. There were several stain glass pieces, set upon fine cloth. There were some shards of the glass on the floor. Rey knelt down and picked one up; it was deep blue and reflected the witchlight. She slipped it into her pocket.

Another things that amazed her were the number of paintings: there was a gorgeous woman with flower in her hair – she looked regal, like she was a queen. Below it, in a plaque on the frame, was an inscription in an old language that Rey could just barely read. Alderaanian. The ancient city on the water.

These portraits must be old.

There was another of the same woman, but this time she was with a young man with blonde hair. They had two children – a girl with dark features like the mother and a fair boy who took more after the father.

There are several more portraits, presumably depicting the same dynasty. Rey’s eyes fall on one last portrait. It’s by far the largest in the room. In it is a beautiful woman with brown hair, wearing a white dress; beside her stands a charming-looking man. Between them is a young boy with a thin face and dark, wavy hair.

Rey cannot help but look. The boy looks familiar – there’s no way she could possibly know him, though; the Alderaanian Genocide had happened centuries ago; there were no more people of the great nation.

But yet…

Rey shoved the thought away and examined the rest of the spoils in the cave. Among silverware scattered along the floor, there were old tapestries, a loom, several history books…but what caught her interest was a map.

It was rolled up, frayed around the edges, and faded at the center, but it showed the borders of the ancient world. Rey knelt on the ground and spread the map out to get a better look it at – it was nearly a meter long and half as wide.

Her eyes scanned the map, searching for a modern landmark to help her find Albina. Luke Skywalker was rumored to be the last of the Alderaanian descendants – Rey cursed herself for not studying the ancient language as dutifully as she studied the others. She might’ve been able to translate the names, see if Luke was among the people in the portraits. He was rumored to have taken up sorcery and live in a remote island off the coast of Albina. Rey had no reason to believe the myth –but she had no reason to disbelieve them, either.

The Alderaan Kingdom was to the east; Gaul to the north; and northwest of that…

There. The Albian Coast. Lindisfarne. Skywalker. There was a symbol over the island, one that Rey was certain signified Skywalker’s whereabouts.

Rey bit her lip. She was happy learning from Kylo, and especially after what had happened with the troll, she wasn’t about to defect. But…if Skywalker had survived all these centuries, hidden out in the most remote corners of the globe…

Surely he would know things even a dragon wouldn’t be able to teach her.

Rey burned the image into her mind, re-rolled the map and set it aside; she’d be back.

Rey ended the witchlight spell and exited the cave, only to come face-to-face with a pissed-off dragon.

He stood before her with his wings raised high, smoke rising from his nostrils and a menacing gleam in his eyes. He was pure fury, and for the first time in a while, Rey felt nervous around him.

What, he seethed, are you doing here.

Rey swallowed, careful to keep her mind under lock and key. “I was walking and I found this. Thought I’d check it out.”

Do NOT lie to me, he replied with a snarl and snap of his jaw. Rey stepped back, pressed herself against the canyon wall, eyes wide with fear. She’d never seen Kylo this vexed, never been on the wrong end of his teeth.

He stared at her, nostrils flaring. Rey swallowed. “Back off, Kylo.”

You are not to come here again!

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” Rey snapped, adrenaline coursing through her.

Kylo let out a low growl. You are my apprentice. Do not forget your place. With one last scathing look her way, he took to the skies and left Rey alone in the empty canyon.

Rey hugged herself against the autumn chill. She didn’t know if she should go back to Kylo’s cavern, or if it would be better to see Finn…

She settled on visiting Finn. She was close enough to the village, and maybe he knew something about Alderaan…

The pub was crowded, warm, and had a boisterous atmosphere. Rey found it cozy and charming – even if the ale there tasted like piss and her seat had uneven legs.

“You drink this stuff?” she asked, nearly choking after her first sip.

Finn grinned. “You wouldn’t believe the stuff we ate in the army. All things considered, this is pretty standard mead.”

Rey looked down at the alcohol in her cup, and wondered when, exactly, she became so spoilt. She’d gone from struggling to survive to sleeping on a lifetime’s worth of wealth every single night.

“Hey, Finn?” Rey said, “Do you know anything about Alderaan?”

Finn took a swig of his mead. “Just the basics – ancient monarchy-republic, height of magical knowledge – well, knowledge in general, actually – before it fell to the Empire.” He leaned in. “Why? Did you find something?”

Rey hesitated, but nodded. “I think I found a map to Luke Skywalker.”

Finn choked on his mead. “You what?”

“Keep your voice down!” Rey hissed. “I – I think. But he wouldn’t be alive, right? I mean…that was centuries ago.”

Finn looked nervous. Frightened, even. “Rey – I can tell you, there are people who think Skywalker is alive. People who’ve spent their lives hunting him down. I – magic prolongs your life, once you get to a certain level. You and I – we’re in our prime, we wouldn’t notice. Hell, we’re not even strong enough for it to really stop any aging. But Skywalker…he wasn’t just a mage. He’s a sorcerer.”

Finn rubbed his temples. “Rey, you should burn the map.”

Rey swallowed. “I had no idea. I – I was going to seek him out. As a tutor.”

Finn shook his head. “I’m glad you didn’t, Rey. Please – promise me you won’t go looking for Luke. It’s bad news.”

Rey wanted to ask him why he was so sure, wanted to press him for information, but Finn looked like he might leave if she asked about Skywalker again. Maybe Poe knew something – or maybe she could ask him later.

They paid for their drinks and made to leave the pub.

“Yikes,” Finn said, as they stepped outside. Rey felt her stomach plummet. It was snowing – the first snowfall of the season – and it was already lying on the ground ankle-deep. He cast a look at Rey. “I’d prefer you stay the night then have you walk back up the mountain in this.”

“I’m inclined to agree…Poe won’t mind?”

Finn brushed her concerns away as they trudged back to his home. “Poe will understand. He’s been asking about you. Besides, we have a spare room.”

Rey thought about reaching out to Kylo, to tell him that she was stranded in the village, but he felt distant, as if he were deliberately hiding himself from her. So be it, Rey thought, ignoring how that stung. She knew she should’ve have invaded his privacy like that but – well. He’d insisted she live with him. If he was privy to all of her goings-on, shouldn’t she at least be able to see the inside of his very accessible hoard?

Poe was sitting in front of the hearth when she and Finn walked in. He grinned upon seeing her. “Snowed in?”

Rey offered a sheepish smile. “Afraid so.”

“I told Rey she could use the spare room for the storm,” Finn said. He pulled two wooden chairs up to the hearth and gestured for Rey to sit.  Rey smiled to herself, listened as the two men spoke. It was nice to feel welcome, to be among humans, among friends.

But when she lie down to sleep that night, she sorely missed her spot in the cave.

The storm lasted three days and two nights. And even after it stopped on the third day, there was no way that Rey would be able to make the trek back up the mountain.

And she still hadn’t found out more information on Skywalker or Alderaan.

A ball of dread settled deep in her stomach. She’d tried to contact Kylo, but he’d been closed to her. Rey wasn’t sure if it was distance, or deliberate.

She’d been the first one up, so she tended to the hearth, adding logs so it wouldn’t go out. There was something outside – something she could see through the frost-encrusted window – that caught her eye.

“Oh shit,” Rey said under her breath. He didn’t.

Oh, but he did.

She scrawled a quick note to Finn and Poe – thanking them for their hospitality, letting them that she was okay, that she’d caught a ride up the mountain with the gypsy caravan that had passed through and that she didn’t want to wake them, saying she’d visit as soon as the damn snow let up – and quietly as she could, she went outside.

The snow was banked four feet high and it was nearly impossible for Rey to wade through. Her trousers were soaked, her boots had snow in them, but gods, it was beautiful.

Rey had never seen anything like it. The entire village was covered in white; the tops of the trees, the mountains, even the rooftops. It created a sense of peace deep within her.

Not that Rey had any chance to appreciate it – there was a pissed-off dragon right in the middle of a field.

“Kylo!” Rey hissed, stumbling forward. “What are you doing?”

He swung his head forward, leveled his eyes with hers. The last time you fled, you were nearly sold into slavery.

Rey bared her teeth. “I got caught in a storm! I tried to tell you, but your mind was closed!”

Kylo huffed and gnashed his jaws in her face. Rey jumped back, almost falling into the snow.

As if I’d ever harm you, he snapped, sensing her fear.

Rey rounded on him. “Between that and a few days ago, I don’t know what you’d do!”

Rey glared at him. He glared back. She shifted, stamping her feet against the cold, but did not break eye contact. He would not win this round.

You are cold, he observed.

“No shit,” Rey grit, still angry. She watched as Kylo crouched down, didn’t budge when he tried to guide her to his side with her tail.

“I’m still mad at you,” she told him, putting her hands in her armpits.

I would not like to be caught in the village.

“Then why bother coming at all?”

I did not want to drive you away for a second time.

Well…fine, then. It wasn’t an apology, but it was something. “I’m still mad at you,” she warned, even as she clambered up his side.

I know, he said, and took off.

There was an awkward silence hanging heavy over the cave. Rey bit her lip, mulling over how and if she should speak to Kylo. She wrapped a wool blanket around her shoulders and walked outside. The snow-covered landscape was even more beautiful from the top of the mountain. Her breath came out in little white puffs of air and the snow crunched under her feet. The clouds hung low and flat and gray in the sky – Rey thought she could reach up and touch them, if she wanted.

Kylo joined her at the mouth of the cave. Beautiful, is it not?

“Why did you get angry that I went in the cave near the gorge?”

Rey didn’t know where she got the stupidity – or the bravery – to be that bold, but there she was. She turned and fixed Kylo with a look.

Why did you feel the need to seek it out?

“It’s not like you tell me anything,” she grumbled. “You don’t just horde things, Kylo. You hide them. And you were hiding the remnants of an Alderaanian royal family.”  

The last Alderaanian royal family.

Oh. Oh. “Were you around for the massacre?”

I was alive, yes.

He was deliberately giving her short answers, keeping his mind closed off to her. Rey swallowed. “Look, Kylo – you hide things, and that only makes me more curious. I don’t know you, not really. Skywalker was Alderaanian, and you said – when you first offered to train me – the way you spoke made me think he’s still alive. I’m curious, and – and I think I deserve to know. At least a little.”

Kylo regarded her for a long moment. I am an old creature, little bird, and old creatures have secrets. He walked back into the cave, gesturing for her to follow him with a flick of his tail. Rey followed him to the back of the cave, where he kept his manuscripts. He nudged a large tome. Rey pulled it from the shelf and wiped the dust off of it. She could scarcely recognize the gilded letters on the cover, but she knew they were Alderaanian.

Kylo touched the tip of his nose to her forehead. That being said, I would much prefer you to ask me first.

Rey nodded. “I – thank you, Kylo.” She’d tell him that she couldn’t read the Alderaanian language later; for now, she was just happy that he was no longer angry.

But he was a step ahead of her. I can teach you the letters, if you would like. It is a mostly dead language, but you’ll find some things familiar.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Kylo.”

Of course, little bird.

Rey didn't know why, but even as Kylo rested his head in her lap that night, she felt the need to keep the piece of stained glass she'd pocketed a secret from him. It was carefully wrapped up and stowed away in a crevice too small for him to reach. I can have secrets too, she thought idly, running her fingers along the silver spikes on his cheek. 

His eyes were half-lidded as she stroked the scales along his snout, and Rey swore that he was making a purring noise. It was too cold-too snowy- to do much except drink tea and stay inside. Kylo risked his wings getting frozen if he flew in snow, and Rey felt no inclination to go outside. 

She was content to sit here with her dragon.

FANART

By frozenmusings

frozenmusings GIF'd

By Magali1982

By reygirloflight

I cannot oversell these ladies' art enough - it was so flattering to wake up and see that actual people took actual time out of their days to draw dragon!kylo and mage!rey. 

Happy Friday, Lovelies :) 

Chapter Text

Rey first saw the dog halfway down the mountain. It was crouched on the road and snarling at her, unwilling to let her pass through on her way back to Kylo’s cavern. Thankfully, the road was wide enough that neither her nor the dog risked falling over the mountain ledge, but the sun would be setting soon and this was the only way up.

Rey paused. The creature was large – more of a bear than a canine – with a wide muzzle, a thick, black and coat and a white underbelly, with brown paws. The only sign of domestication was the rope around its neck; its fur was matted and filthy.

“You,” Rey said to it, “Are not from here, are you?”

She wondered – would the way she communicated with Kylo work on lesser animals? She tried, seeking out the dog’s consciousness with her own.

Rey almost immediately pulled back – there was pain, so much fear, so much blood – and then she realized that this was an Empire Molosser, a war hound, a deadly sort of canine. She’d likely have better chances with a wolf.

And for whatever reason, it was advancing on her.

Rey swallowed, and tried projecting an aura of calm and safe onto it, simple things that it could grasp. The creatures paused, as if confused by its own feeling of comfort.

Rey pressed on. Its bristling fur fell, its hackles dropped, its snarl faded. It gave a halfhearted growl as Rey approached. She stopped several feet in front of it and knelt down, offering it a strip of dried jerky.

The dog took two steps forward, then halted, staring at her in suspicion. Rey kept impressing calm and safe onto it as it approached.

Rey reached out and set the jerky down between them; perhaps it didn’t want to eat out of her hand.

She was right. The dog went for the piece of meat instantly, chomping it down. Rey tore off another piece and offered it out. The dog growled as her hand approached, but just as the last time, went after the meat after she set it down.

Rey stood. If the dog wasn’t going to trust her, she couldn’t make it. But, just as she turned her attention away from it, the dog nudged her hand with its nose.

Rey jerked back, not wanting to get bitten. It whined and pawed at the ground, going so far as to bark at her.

“You little shit,” Rey said. The thing – it was begging. Rey went in her bag and tore off another piece of jerky. “Growling at me and then begging for food. Well, you’re gonna have to work for it this time.”

She didn’t know what the dog’s sudden change of heart was – maybe Rey had managed to get through to it, that she was a friend, or maybe food at won it over. As she went to lower it the dog sat back and flattened its ears, whining again. Rey held it out in the flat of her hand; to her surprise, the dog went forward and ate it gently.

Rey knelt again. The dog let her pet it – him, it was a him – and she examined the rope around his neck. Nothing about it told her where he came from or who owned him. Rey wondered if an army company had marched through the region and had left him.

He was about the size of a large wolf, came up to Rey’s hip. Other than some scratches here and there, and his matted fur, he seemed in okay condition. When Rey stood and contemplated what to do, he watched her with sharp amber eyes.

Well…

Rey started walking back to Kylo’s cave.

The dog followed dutifully, trotting at her side.

Rey grinned. There would be a new addition to their little family.

What, Kylo said to her, is that?

Rey grinned up at her mentor. “He’s a Molloser, and he likes jerky.” To prove her point, Rey fed the dog another piece of meat and scratched it behind the ears for good measure.

He’s inelegant. And filthy.

“His name is Brutus,” Rey admonished.

How appropriate.

“He’s good,” Rey told Kylo. They were standing just outside the cave, on the ledge where Kylo typically sunbathed. “He likes me. It’s nice to have the company.”

Kylo swung his head over to Brutus. The dog – a far cry from the aggressive warhound that had stopped Rey on the path – stuck his butt in the air and wagged his tail, barked up at Kylo.

“See? He likes you. He wants to play.”

Kylo looked back at Rey. He’s not staying in the cave.

With that Kylo lumbered back into the cave and lay down. Rey rolled her eyes. Kylo could pout all he wanted – if she was stuck living with him, then she should be able to have a pet or two. And there was no way she’d leave Brutus outside the cave in the winter; he’d likely be okay outside for the next few weeks. Hopefully by the time winter settled in, she’d have convinced Kylo otherwise.

Rey smiled as she watched Brutus trot around the ledge and sniff at the wildflowers that grew along the mountainside. She’d have to give the creature a bath, and get more meat to feed it, but ultimately…

It could get lonely, it just being her and Kylo. A dog would be a nice addition – for them both.

Kylo soared above the valley, Rey clinging to him tightly as she was buffeted by the wind. Her knees would be bruised, she was sure, but she was not about to risk falling however hundreds of feet to her death, Kylo’s assurances that he wouldn’t let her fall be damned. Mostly, because she didn’t want to die – but also because she knew that Kylo was liable to burn Brutus to a crisp if she weren’t there to make peace between them.

What are we even doing out here? Rey asked. It was several degrees below freezing and windy to boot. With the way the clouds hung in the sky, she wouldn’t be surprised if they’d have another snowfall by that night.

You’ll see, he answered. Rey huffed. Kylo wasn’t in a chatty mood today, hadn’t been yesterday either, and was becoming increasingly cagey with his answers.

He landed in front of a large, stone structure that had been built into the mountain. Rey dismounted, careful not to slip on any ice. An arched doorway loomed above her, icicles hanging like teeth. What is this?

A tomb. He rustled his wings and stepped inside, ducking his head. Careful of the icicles; one could impale you.

Impale. What a lovely word.

Rey walked by his side, keeping a hand on his flank for balance as they descended a large pathway. The further into the tomb they went, the darker and dryer it got. The ceilings were high, the walls wide. There was an chamber in front of them, the entryway flanked by two columns. Rey cast a witchlight as they entered a main chamber, and gasped.

Bones – human bones - were inlaid into the walls. There was a smaller archway, one that was human sized, that had a skull as the keystone. On stone slabs entire skeletons were laid out – some of which, Rey noted in horror, were small enough to be children. There were shelves built into the walls where more skeletons lay, engravings underneath saying who they were.

The letters were mostly faded.

Relax, said Kylo. This is an ancient tomb. These people buried their dead in catacombs, like this one.

“If it’s human catacombs,” Rey said, speaking aloud because the silence was unnerving, “Why is it big enough for you?”

These people left enough room for their gods to visit and take the souls of their dead to the afterlife. They were a bit literal. But that’s not why we’re here.

Kylo maneuvered through the tomb with a grace that a creature his size shouldn’t possess, leaving the remains undisturbed. He stopped in front of one and dipped his head in front of it. What can you tell me about this person?

Rey looked down at the skeleton, swallowing against her initial revulsion. So this was a learning opportunity, then. She frowned. The skeleton seemed about the size of an adult, but that was all she could see. “It’s not a child,” she said, knowing that he was about to correct her.

You can tell the age and sex of a skeleton by looking at the teeth, chin, and pelvis. With magic, you can tell more. But first…

Kylo lifted his head and touched her forehead with his snout. Females have less of a brow ridge, and a smaller chin. He dipped his head further and nudged her behind. They also have a wider pelvis, with a curved sub-pelvic angle.

“Are you saying that women have birthing hips?” Rey asked with a laugh. Kylo nudged her rear again.  Yes. Males have narrower pelvises and typically have larger skeletons. Take a walk around; find me a female and a male.

Rey did as instructed. It was more difficult than she thought it would be, but soon enough she was able to make a sure distinction. “What about children?” she asked. “The smaller skeletons are all identical.

Kylo dipped his snout and touched one of the skulls. Some things are only visible in adults. Other times, magic helps. Human remains tell a long story; tell me what this one has to stay. Reach out, little bird. It will come to you.

Rey did as instructed, all the while wondering why Kylo wanted her to know such things about human remains. And how did he know so much about human remains?

 She voiced as much to him as they exited. If you are to learn healing spells, a basic knowledge of the human skeleton cannot hurt.

“But why would you need to know so much about human skeletons? You’re a dragon.”

Kylo flicked his tail at her hip. I like knowledge for knowledge’s sake, little bird. And I presume you would want to know the basics of childbirth sooner rather than later.

Rey stopped in her tracks. “I don’t want children, Kylo.”

He blinked at her, then shifted his wings in his equivalent of a shrug. It is a useful skill, nonetheless. Midwives are highly regarded. Such was not always the case. He knelt down, waiting for Rey to hop on. She hefted herself up, only to be pushed the rest of the way by Kylo’s snout on her bottom.

“Hey, Kylo?” Rey asked, just as he readied himself to take off.

Yes, little bird?

“You wouldn’t happen to know why that tomb was so bare, would you?”

He gave a playful growl. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Rey patted his scales-of course he knew what she was talking about, of course the spoils from the tomb were in his cave -and he took off before she could retort.

Halfway home was when the blizzard started. Kylo flew on, determined to make it to his cave before his wings were rendered useless by ice – but five minutes in, the snow had already frozen on his wings, rendering him liable to fall. He crash-landed just below the peak of the tallest mountain, up where the air got thin and cold. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and Rey –

To her credit, she wasn’t complaining. There was nothing he could ignite a fire with, she was being buffeted by snow, and the girl only had her clothes – a thick wool coat that came down to her knees, over her typical tunic and leggings.

“How are we getting down?” she asked through chattering teeth. Her eyelashes were crusted with snow, and flakes were falling in her hair. She brought her cowl over her head, clutched it at her chin.

We will have to wait until it stops snowing, he told her. He curled up, tucked his wings close to his body. They were next to useless when frozen. He was next to useless when his wings were frozen.  Thawing them out with his fire breath wouldn’t help, not in this cold. The ice would turn to water, which would refreeze within seconds.

Rey was stamping her feet hands tucked underneath her armpits. She bit her lip. “I hope Brutus is okay.”

Kylo snorted. If the creature was stupid enough to stay outside the cave in such weather – or if a Molosser had such poor constitution - then it was simply a matter of natural selection. Kylo kept this sentiment to himself; his apprentice had great affection for the canine, and he didn’t want to upset her.

Kylo nudged her with his tail. Come closer, little bird. You’ll freeze. Your dog will be fine in the cave.

She needed no more coaxing, curling up into his side. He angled a wing to shield her from the elements, tucking his own head underneath with her and curling his tail around so the snow would drift against him, and not her mortal frame. She leaned against his side. Thank you, she said.

Are you warm? There wasn’t much else he could do – but the fire in his belly would save her from frostbite, and he could shelter her from the biting wind.

Enough, she told him. Let’s just hope the storm is over soon.

Her breathing steadied, and he could feel the rise and fall of her sides. She wasn’t asleep, just exhausted, barely kept warm enough to stay awake. He wasn’t in a conversational mood; today was one of his clearer days, a day where he remembered almost so clearly it hurt. He wished to brood or instruct, not to converse, but he couldn’t let her fall asleep.

Rey, he said, and she stirred. What are the primary uses of monkshood? And what is its proper name.

…what?

He huffed, nudging her in the side with his snout. You need to stay awake, little bird. I’m doing what I can to keep you awake. He nudged her hand until she rested it on his snout, trailing up over the ridges of his skull, wrapping around the base of one of his horns.

Aconite. It’s poisonous. Fed to monsters to render them useless. It looks purple.

Good, he said. Now, how about nightshade…

He continued quizzing her on various plants until the storm abated. The moment it did, he shook off the snow that had fallen on him and raised his wings. Stay back, he told Rey.

He beat his wings once, twice, removing the snow and ice and giving a hesitant flex. He should be fine – if the precipitation kept scarce.

Let’s go, he told Rey, nudging her onto the juncture between his neck and wings. He hardly waited for his apprentice to situate herself before he took off.

He was not risking his apprentice’s life on spending more time out in the cold.

When they returned home – and the dog had survived the blizzard, much to Kylo’s surprised -Rey was quick to strip herself of her wet clothes and change into something warmer. She bundled herself in several blankets and curled between Kylo and Brutus. The dog whined until Rey pet him behind the ears, but eventually he fell asleep next to her.  

Rey fell asleep, but Kylo lay awake. Typically her breathing lulled him to a state of relaxation, but tonight there were too many glimpses of the past in the slipstream of his mind. 

The tomb had been ancient when he’d raided it, but returning there with his apprentice had brought on memories, things he’d only half-forgot: a palace, a kind woman with flowers in her hair, a brunette queen who ruled nations. Their empire – his empire – had encompassed whole continents. It had been a golden age.

If Kylo shuts his eyes and thinks, hard, he can see it: an ocean, the waves splashing against the cliffs of the green, green island.

There had been a tomb there, too, erected in the name of a dead king.

Skywalker.

Chapter Text

It was the coarse cry that alerted Rey to the bird’s presence.

It came from the back of the cavern, past the main atrium. Rey cast a witchlight and ducked underneath the low ceiling, following the passage. Several yards down, she found it – a small black and white bird, with a bluish tint to its wings. She knelt down and it began crying out, preparing to fly away – but it’s foot was trapped underneath a fallen rock.  

Rey frowned. She wondered why it hadn’t migrated south to escape the bitter cold. She cast a simple sleeping spell on it – which was easy enough, the creature was so small – and, after removing it from the rock, cupped her hands and picked it up.

She brought it to the main body of the cave and set it down on a small cloth, next to one of the stones Kylo had heated before he left. The bird probably needed to get warm, and now.

Nothing appeared outwardly wrong with it, and Rey’s rudimentary healing magic wasn’t alerting her to any obvious trauma. Rey set some dried nuts and berries down next to it, and waited.

When the bird awoke, the first thing it did was hop around, flap its wings, and peck at the food. It was large – not quite as big as a hooded crow – and there seemed to be an inquisitive look in its eye. When Rey offered it the meat of a walnut, it at it out of her hand.

Rey decided to name it Jinx.

The next day, Rey woke to find a small collection of shiny glass gathered near her head.

Jinx was there, setting another glass piece down. Rey recognized it from the back of Kylo’s hoard, where some older pieces had broken over the years.

Kylo was outside; Rey had no idea why he decided to sunbath in the middle of winter, but there he was. It was a rare sunny day, but it was still frigid outside.

The bird nudged the glass piece closer to her and flapped its wings, gave a cry.

Rey smiled. “I guess this is how you repay me?”

The bird cawed again. By now, Rey had lived with Brutus long enough to recognize an animal’s give me food actions. So she got up, wrapped in a wool blanket, and went to retrieve more nuts for Jinx.

By the third day, the bird – a juvenile female magpie, Kylo told her – was continually endearing herself to Rey by bringing her small amethyst stones and bits of glass.

This same behavior was beginning to grate on Kylo’s nerves.

That thing, Kylo said with a flick of his tail in Jinx’s direction, is rearranging my things.

“You don’t do anything with your things anyway. Besides, it’s just small things. She’s grateful.”

Kylo huffed. Jinx landed on one of the spikes on his back; Kylo swatted at her with the end of his tail. Jinx took off, avoiding the strike…only to land on the top of his head.

You are going to overrun my cave with lesser creatures.

Rey couldn’t contain her laughter. “She likes you!”

She’s a nuisance.

“Please – she’s just like you, collecting shiny things and giving gifts to repay a debt. You’re cut from the same cloth.” Jinx pecked at Kylo’s silver scales, trying to work her beak around them to add to her growing collection of pretty objects. She gave an agitated flutter of her wings when the scales didn’t move, and pecked at them in irritation.

Rey laughed. Kylo snorted.

I am a dragon. She is a common corvid.

“Well, she’s my common corvid, and she’s staying. There’s no way she’d survive the winter – I don’t even know how she wound up in the cave in the first place – and I like her.”

Kylo head-butted Rey’s shoulder, causing Jinx to cry in annoyance as she was jostled from her perch. As you wish. But you are cleaning up after her.

Rey grinned and patted his cheek. “She’ll grow on you. You seem to be fond of little birds, as I recall.”

He head-butted her again, harder, making her stumble and nearly fall. Rey glared at him – he was amused, the bastard lizard.

Oops.

The snow was finally beginning to melt, forming small pathways on the mountainside. Rey had taken a much-needed walk to stretch her legs, and returned to absolute chaos outside the cave.

Kylo was rip-roaring pissed, jaws open, wings spread, snarling at an obscured figure; as soon as Rey approached she was accosted by Brutus, barking and jumping at her hip.

“Brutus! Down!” Rey shoved him away and jogged forward, worried at what poor soul had incurred Kylo’s wrath this time.

“Rey? Is that you?! Get help!”

Finn’s voice.

Finn’s voice.

The poor soul who had incurred Kylo’s wrath was Finn.

“Finn!” Rey cried, rushing up to him. She put herself between Finn and Kylo, arms outstretched to separate the two.

Behind her, Finn was breathing heavy in terror.

Before her, Kylo looked like an angry god.

Out of the way!  Kylo said.

Rey ignored Kylo and looked over her shoulder at Finn. “What are you doing here?”

Fear was etched into Finn’s face, eyes wide and face ashen. When he finally found his voice, it shook. “Rey – Rey, what is this thing?”

“A dragon,” Rey muttered, looking back at Kylo with narrowed eyes as she addressed him. “Back off. He’s my friend.”

Kylo growled, baring his teeth. Rey didn’t budge. She had her staff in hand, the yellow gem gleaming in the midday sun – she could use the fortuna spell he’d taught her to protect Finn, if she needed to.

Rey pushed the thoughts away – she shouldn’t need to.

Partly for the sake of being rude, and partly because she wanted to address Finn, Rey turned her back to Kylo. She ignored the dragon’s insulted feelings as they washed over her mind and instead watched Finn’s gaze – try as he might to look at Rey, his eyes kept crawling back to Kylo. “What are you doing here?” She asked again.

Finn tore his gaze away. “We were worried! Hell, Rey, I’m still worried!”

We? Kylo snapped, but Rey ignored him. Finn continued, “When you left – your footprints in the snow just disappeared, and there were these weird imprints, too, and there was no caravan that had left, and we wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Rey was touched, could feel her heart light up at his concern. “Finn…”

 “So we tracked you to your hut but it was empty, so I did a small tracking spell and – and it led me here. To a dragon. They’re supposed to be extinct! And it – it tried to kill me!”

Rey took a breath. “Well, he won’t be trying to kill you any longer, Finn. I’m certain.” She laced her words with intent, silently promising Kylo hell to pay if he harmed Finn. “Kylo doesn’t like being disturbed. He’s picky, about humans…I’m his apprentice. Of sorts.”

Of sorts, Kylo said derisively, you are my apprentice plain and simple.

Rey ignored him, even as his tail flicked across her calves. She could sense that he was calming down, but his anger was still simmering. “I – I’m sorry, Finn. I wanted to respect his privacy.”

“So that’s how you know so much,” Finn said to himself. “I – I figured there was more to you, I just couldn’t pinpoint what…Hell, Rey. You could rule nations if you wanted to.”

The anger inside Kylo completely boiled over at that, surging forward with such intensity Rey had to shut her eyes against it. Kylo snapped his jaws, thrusting his head forward. Rey whirled around, baring her teeth. “You need to shut up!”

Kylo growled low in his throat. Do not tell me how to act.

Rey turned her back to him and walked towards Finn. If he wanted to ignore reason, fine. She’d deal with his anger later.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said to Finn, thoroughly ignoring her dragon. “I’ll explain.”

And before Kylo could protest, she grabbed Finn by the arm and dragged him away.

“A dragon!”

That was the first thing Finn said to her as they made their way back down the mountain. Rey bit her lip and refrained from pointing out the obvious.

“How – how did you get one to train you? They’re supposed to be dead!”

“He offered after I healed his wing. I think he’s the last one.”

Finn shook his head. “I just can’t believe it. You – you told it to shut up! And it didn’t kill you! Rey – do you know how dangerous that is? I…saints above, Rey, you’re a stronger mage than you’ve been letting on. You’ve practically tamed him!”

“I – is that a big deal?”

Finn looked at her, incredulous. “Rey, in Carthage we have drakes. They’re – domesticated dragons, without wings. Kind of the difference between a nanny goat and a mountain ram. And even taming them is hard. We use them as mounts, but it takes years to break them. The only reason we use them at all is because they’re more suited to the heat than other livestock. For a true dragon…you must be...the respect he must have for you is phenomenal.”

“I’m his apprentice – he’s concerned for my safety. And his own. That’s why he attacked you. Finn, I promise I’ll make sure he doesn’t harm you or Poe. Just – you have to keep the location a secret. Promise me.” Rey really, really wanted to avoid using magic on Finn, but she found herself subconsciously willing him to listen to her, infusing obey, listen, trust into him. If he noticed it, he didn’t comment.

“Can I tell Poe?” he said. “He’ll…he’ll want to know.”

“I’ll come down with you,” Rey said. “I’ll tell him.” She could wipe their memories, if she needed too – but really, Rey would rather not. As they wandered down the snowy mountainside, Finn said, “Would you ever show me any of the things he’s taught you?”

Rey smiled. “Of course, Finn. I can loan you any of his manuscripts.”

Finn’s face lit up. “If you can get one on healing or childbirth, that would be wonderful. The midwife is old – sickly, too – and I’m the only other physician in the village.”

“That won’t be a problem,” she told Finn. “I have some.”

“You mean your dragon has some,” Finn said good-naturedly, elbowing her in the side. Rey felt guilty, at that – she’d just very well made Kylo angrier with her than he’d ever been.

“He’s not my dragon,” she mumbled. A pit of dread formed in her stomach – what, exactly, would Kylo think of her when she returned? She was acutely aware that she was bargaining with his safety as well as her own. Finn and Poe seemed trustworthy – they’d let her sleep in their home, had extended their hospitality and friendship to her without a second thought. She could trust them with this.

They were at Finn’s house, seated around his kitchen table, half-drank cups of tea in front of them. Finn looked all too excited, eyes fixed on Poe’s face as he waited to see his reaction as Rey told her tale. At the end, Poe leaned back in his chair. “Well, there are rumors, you know.”

Rey blinked at him. Finn frowned. “What?”

Poe’s eyebrows shot up. He addressed Finn. “You mean you hadn’t heard? The beast in the mountains? The Shadow? Some think it’s a forgotten god, others think it’s some sort of monster. Most people are superstitious enough to turn a blind eye to it – they don’t want to upset anything older than them. This entire place reeks of magic, and the villagers aren’t stupid.”

Rey swallowed. So Kylo’s existence hadn’t been a well-kept secret to begin with.

“That being said,” Poe continued, fixing his eyes on her. “A dragon comes as a surprise. They’ve been dead for centuries.”

“Yeah, well apparently he didn’t get the memo,” Rey said. “Look – no matter the rumors – please don’t tell anyone. I – it would mean a lot to me, if you could keep this secret.”

“Of course!” Finn said quickly. Poe nodded his agreement.

Rey smiled in relief. “Thank you. I’m his apprentice – he keeps me safe. If you want to contact me, Finn, we can scry. But please don’t wander into his cave again.” She didn’t want to think of what might’ve happened if she hadn’t been there.

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Finn said, but it was good-natured.

Rey grinned. “Thanks, Finn. I owe you one.”

Kylo paced around the cave, narrowly missing the molosser for the umpteenth time that afternoon as it bounded underfoot, thinking it was some sort of game. The corvid was smarter, and had made itself scarce.

Kylo couldn’t believe that his apprentice had sided with the mortal over him. Had chastised him. Had all but betrayed him. And for what? The same mortal who had taken her hospitality, all those months ago? A third-rate mage who wouldn’t know wolfsbane from St. John’s Wort?

He sensed her approaching before he heard her. Her mind was closed, a steel trap keeping all of her feelings and thoughts hidden from him. It was just as well – Kylo wasn’t sure what he would do if he could hear her thoughts.

He swung around to face her as she entered the cave. You, he snarled.

“Me,” Rey agreed tersely. She made to brush past him; Kylo blocked her easily.

“What do you want?” she seethed, glaring up at him. Her eyes glinted with fury; the very set of her jaw was defiant.

A shred of loyalty from my apprentice would be a start!

“Defending my friends doesn’t negate my loyalty to you,” she sneered. “And if you’re going to be hostile to my friends –“

Do you realize the danger you put us in! Kylo lashed his tail in irritation.

“I didn’t! I fixed it! Finn promised to keep you a secret, and if he doesn’t, I’ll just – I’ll wipe his memory! And maybe you should look at the wards you keep up, since they’re so easy to get past!”

Smoke rose from his nostrils. Angry as he was, perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated her.

“I told him not to come back, either,” she said coolly. “So you can relax on that as well. I won’t be having any visitors at your cave, Kylo.”

She presented her back as an insult. Kylo huffed. He had planned to teach her more of the Alderaanian language today, but it was past nightfall and she seemed entirely disinterested, even keeping her mind iron-bound as he pressed his consciousness against hers.

He huffed again and sauntered to the cave opening. Tonight was the first clear night in weeks, and he planned to take advantage of it. He unfurled his wings and tensed his limbs, ready to take off. He felt curiosity leaking through over her end; he paused, waiting for the question that would come.

“Where are you going?”

Hunting.

“Oh,” Rey said. When no more questions came, he took off.

Kylo returned to the cave later that night. The waxing moon had risen and hung full and fat in the sky; a few days from now it would be full, and Kylo would have to teach Rey how to use moonlight to perfect healing magic.

He entered the cave, surprised to see that Rey wasn’t in what he’d come to think of as her spot on his nest. He looked around, finding her asleep in her grotto, Jinx nestled on a ledge and Brutus…

The dog had decided that, even if Rey wasn’t in her usual spot, he would be. He looked up as Kylo entered, his tail wagging happily –if not tiredly.

Rey was asleep, nested under several blankets. They wouldn’t be enough to warm her tonight.

He nudged her with his snout. You need to wake up.

Rey opened her eyes and sighed. “What is it, Kylo?”

The temperature is dropping, little bird. You’ll freeze. And she would – he’d felt it coming in the tailwind as he flew back. There would be another cold snap within the hour. Spring was still a long way off.

She moved sluggishly. “So you’re going to be nice, now?”

Kylo ignored the barb. As far as he was concerned the matter with her friend was settled as long as nobody else darkened his doorstep. I don’t want to wake up to a frostbitten apprentice. Besides. Brutus will miss you. And he would – the dog usually curled up next to Rey.

The girl gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine,” she muttered. She wrapped her wool blanket around herself and followed him to his nest. Their stirring woke Jinx, who flew over, circling them, only to land on Brutus’s head. Rey clambered in next to the dog, and then Kylo curled around them, pressing his flank next to Rey. She shifted, but didn’t move away. Sandwiched between himself and the dog, she would be warm that night.

But she was having trouble sleeping. He could hear the irregular breathing, feel her restlessness.

Kylo huffed. He did feel a tad guilty – he’d been the one to rouse her. He let impressions of calm and sleep slip through their bond, and when she began to doze off, he matched his breathing with hers.

Rey’s dream-state is much like it had been the last time Kylo had woken there – the same cave, the same nest, but Brutus and Jinx are gone, and it is just him – a man now, and nothing more.

He prefers to gaze upon her in this form. He feel as if she means something – it’s just out of his reach – but here he feels he has more of an idea why that other mage had bothered him so much, why he’d wanted her to sleep next to him, why he wants Rey by his side. But even here, those thoughts are slipping.

So Kylo gives in to a more instinctive desire. He moves himself closer to her and makes to gather her in his arms, but she wakes up.

“I – what?” she says, sleepily. Kylo freezes; he’s not sure what she’ll remember, what is appropriate, what he should do.

The words come, unbidden, in a voice he hadn’t used in centuries. “Shh, little bird. You’re cold as ice.” And she was – hopefully, even in this weak form, he could do something to remedy that. He feels guilty, because that was not his true motive – he wants her safe, he wants her warm, but mostly, he wants her near.

She nods, “mhmms,” in acquiescence, and he gathers her into his arms. She nuzzles her face into his chest, and Kylo is positive she can hear his heart pounding. If she does, she doesn’t mention it.

Rey drapes and arm over his ribcage and Kylo pulls her tighter. She is small and warm and solid, and here he can still smell her. He does not know what this feeling is, or why he has such a desire to hold her, hoard her like the most precious gem, but he doesn’t let her go at all that night.

When he wakes, he will not quite remember what this feels like.

But for now, he will cherish it.

Chapter Text

Rey opens her eyes to discover that she’s alone in the cave.

Brutus, Jinx, and Kylo are gone. The cave is lit by a burning torch mounted on one wall. Rey frowns – Kylo would be pissed if he knew that fire was burning in the cave, and how had it gotten there, anyway? – and notices that no, she is not alone.

There is a man picking his way to her, coming from the very back of Kylo’s horde. He’s wearing loose black pants and a deep purple cloak. His chest is bare. He holds no weapons, and walks with an awkward, coltish gait.

“What are you doing here?” Rey asks, immediately reaching for her staff and taking a standing position. To her surprise, the gem on the end of her staff is glowing, pulsing with a yellow light.

The stranger follows her line of vision. “You’re a lucky mortal, to be given the gift of a dragon heart.” His voice is smooth and deep. As he approaches, Rey can see he has dark hair, yellow eyes, and aristocratic features.

He’s standing an arm’s length in front of her when he reaches for her staff. “May I?”

“What do you want with it?”

“Only to look, little bird. I’ll not take it.”

Something in his voice, something that he said, prompts Rey to trust him. It’s something that Rey feels she should know but it just out of her reach…

She goes with her instincts and decides to trust him. She holds out the staff and he takes it in his hands.

“It’s very balanced,” he says, and he sounds impressed. “You made it well.”

“What did you mean by dragon heart?” Rey asks, too curious to properly accept the compliment.

His eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up. “You mean you didn’t know? This,” and he taps the gem with a forefinger, “Is a crystalized dragon’s heart. It’s very rare – rarer still that it would let a mortal’s magic channel through it. You must be powerful.”

“I was told it was corundum,” Rey murmurs, half to herself. Why would he lie?

“Technically not untrue,” the man concedes. “May I…” he makes a gesture. “May I try it?”

Rey nods, and gives him a wide berth. He takes the staff in a firm grip and motions through a fighting form – kata, Kylo had called them when he’d tried to teach her – his movements sleek, his breathing deliberate. Rey watches rapturously. Kylo had tried instructing her on these forms, to no avail. Impressing what she should do into her mind was much harder to learn. Watching someone, however – especially someone as skilled as he – might help.

At first his movements are erratic, but soon he falls into a smooth pattern and moves like a silk scarf in the wind. He conjures blue sparks of electricity with the staff; as he makes his way to the final form, a shock of blue lightning spreads throughout the cave, crackling and hissing on the ceiling.

He smiles.

“You mad an excellent staff.” He hands it back to her. When Rey takes it the lightning disappears. Her staff feels odd, strange. His magic in it is almost-familiar, something she might’ve felt long ago.

“Why are you here?” Rey asked. “How did you do that? Where’s Kylo?”

“Only to help, little bird.” He gives her a gentle smile and rests a hand on her shoulder. “Come. There is something I want to show you.”

Rey wants to ask him more questions, wants to point out that he still hadn’t answered her, but she refrains. Something is stopping her, something inside of her very bones that warns her not to spoil the moment.

He leads her to the back of Kylo’s hoard, where he kept his manuscripts and tomes. “I’ve all but forgotten about this,” he says, mostly to himself. He kneels down and shifts scrolls and books and pamphlets around, taking a book bound in black leather out and handing it to her.

“This shows you the correct forms for magic combat,” he tells her, still kneeling. “I’m sure you’ll find it useful.”

“I doubt I’ll need magic for combat,” Rey says, squirming under the weight of his gaze.

“It can’t hurt.” He doesn’t move, hardly blinks, just looked at her with that unreadable expression and that almost half-smile. Rey clears her throat. “How did you know this was here? Where did you come from? Why are you teaching me?”

He rises to his full height. Rey takes a step back so she doesn’t need to crane her neck to make eye contact with him. “You possess the heart of a dragon, little bird. You have talent to rival that of Skywalker –“

“Luke Skywalker?!” Rey can hardly believe it. This strange man – he knows about Luke? “Do you know where he is? Can he teach me? I’ve been wanting to find him for so long, I –“

“No.” The word is cold and sharp as an icicle. His eyes are hard, his face twisted into a sneer. “Forget it.” He brushes past her, and picks his way across the bulk of Kylo’s hoard, knocking over a vase in the process. It shattered on the floor, and Rey felt a true sense of panic rise inside of her – whoever this stranger was, clearly he wasn’t trustworthy…

Rey follows him to the center of the cave, but he is gone without a trace. She sits on her pile of blankets, desperately wishing that Kylo or Brutus or Jinx was with her.

But exhaustion is overtaking her, and soon she is asleep once more.

Rey woke in bits and pieces, ducking her head under her blanket against the cold of the cave. Despite the warmth of both Kylo and Brutus, her nose was still cold. She’d thought that the harsh winter had been waning, but it seemed that yet another blizzard was going to hit before spring came.

Rey had never yearned for the sun more in her life.

She yawned, the images from her dream fading behind her eyelids. Next to her, Kylo shifted. Good morning, little bird.

Rey made a muffled noise and pulled the blankets tighter around her. It was certainly not a good morning.

She told him as much.

There was something she was forgetting, something calling to her from the back of the cave. There was something she should know...

Rey shoved the thoughts away and wrapped a goose down blanket around herself and rose to a seated position. Next to her, Brutus stirred; on his back, Jinx had her feathers fluffed and was abnormally still.

It was cold outside – unbelievably cold – and according to Kylo, they were due for another blizzard soon. Rey, fed up with the cold, had rifled through enough of Kylo’s hoarded almanacs and air current maps to get an idea of how the weather worked.

Today she was going to test that.

Rey took a breath and concentrated. She sent out tiny tendrils of magic, tapping into the way the air flowed in the cave. She breathed out, willed the air to be warmer, to feel warmer, to carry heat from any possible source back to them –

What are you doing? Kylo interrupted her spell without tact, going so far as to nudge her. If you change the weather there will be consequences, little bird.

Rey kept her breathing steady. I’m just trying to make it warmer in here. It won’t affect outside the cave. The rest of us are freezing and you won’t let us light a fire. Rey shut her mind after that, and continued with the spell.

Inhale. Exhale. Warmth. She thought of her days in Jakku, of the hot sun and sand. And soon enough…

Rey finished the spell with an exhale, pleasantly surprised to find that her breath didn’t come out in white clouds anymore. It wasn’t warm in the cave, not by anyone’s standards, but it was above freezing.

She turned to Kylo. “See? I know what I’m doing.”

So you do, he conceded. He rustled his wings and nudged her in the side. We’re going out today, before the blizzard hits. There are other ways to heat the air. You ought to learn them.

Rey sighed. Of course he would take this as an opportunity to teach her. “If your wings freeze again, I’m leaving you there.”

Duly noted.

Kylo brought them to a large pool at the base of a mountain. It was secluded, surrounded by eroded boulders on three sides out of the way of most of the wind. Strangely, there was no snow around it – most of it had seemed to melt away – and there was even green grass. Rey shimmied off of Kylo and made her way over. She knelt down on the grass and took her glove off, running her fingers over the first piece of green she’d seen in months. “What is this?”

A geothermal spring, he told her. The snow melts because of the heat, and the grass can grow even in winter. Kylo dipped his head down and touched his nose to the ground. Seconds later, Rey watched in awe as tiny irises – crocuses, they’re crocuses – unfurled their purple and yellow petals before him.

Try it, Kylo encouraged. See if you can coax a flower out of hibernation.

Rey removed her other glove and pressed her fingertips to the ground, searching for the earthy-sweet feel of flower bulbs.  She found a cluster of them, inches underneath the surface. She concentrated, hard – the more she practiced the more control she needed to exert when doing small tasks – and couldn’t help but grin as several wild daffodils poked their greens shoots out of the ground and blossomed before her eyes.

Wild narcissus, Kylo said. Another early spring bloom. I suspect they’ll be blooming soon.

“Aren’t we due for a blizzard?”

Spring will be here in two moons. The blizzard will be the last of the season. He moved forward and, to Rey’s surprised, walked right into the water.

“If your wings freeze, I’m not –“

She was interrupted by a splash of water in her face. “Hey!” Wait – the water was warm…? Almost hot, even.

Kylo must’ve sensed her surprise. The geothermal vents heat the water, little bird.

Rey blinked at him. “You could’ve just said that, you know, instead of splashing me.” Pretentious lizard, juts call it a hot spring like a normal person, she thought to herself. She stuck an experimental hand into the water – it was warmer than the baths she’d take in Kylo’s cave.

Consider it payback for bringing a common corvid and a war-hound into my home.

In response, Rey struck her hand across the water and splashed him in the face before quickly scurrying out of reach to disrobe. It might be warmer by the springs, but the minute they left it would be frigid. Rey didn’t want to be wearing wet clothes. She didn’t have anything to dry herself off with - maybe she could user her scarf to sop up the extra wetness, and carry it on the way back?

She’d figure it out later

 Rey shucked off her clothes – cloak, scarf, jacket, scarf, tunic, leggings, undergarments – and hung them over a boulder. It felt weird, being naked and out in the open. Hell, it still felt weird being naked in front of Kylo – but nobody would stumble upon them this deep in the mountains, and Kylo was a dragon. He’d shown her midwives’ diagrams of the womb and vulva without batting an eye, had shown her the concoction to suppress her monthly bleeding in the most clinical way possible…

In the cave it was one thing. In the cave, Rey could turn away as she disrobed. Here it was more blatant, more…

Rey shoved the thoughts away, hoping that Kylo hadn’t caught any of them. A quick glance in his direction showed that he was in a nearly comatose state of relaxation, body half-submerged in the water. It reminded Rey of the crocodiles she saw when she was in Alexandria.

Rey hugged herself against the cold and sank into the steamy water next to Kylo. She let out a sigh – it was deliciously warm against the cold air, and she could feel her muscles relaxing at the sensation. She waded in until the water was nearly waist-deep, then sat so it was up to her neck, covering her shoulders.

Worth the trip? Kylo asked. Rey didn’t respond, just leaned in and rested her head against his side.

“I guess,” Rey drawled, but smiled at him. It was lovely, she told him, trying to practice her mental communication. Sometimes it was too quiet – so much so that Rey felt the need to speak to disturb it. But now…

Now, the quiet was nice.

The landscape before them was covered in snow. It was dormant and dead, and completely at odds with the flowers that bloomed at the lake’s edge. It was as if Rey was living in her own personal spring.

She smiled at the thought.

When Rey falls asleep, she dreams.

She is lying on her bed, and kneeling above her is a large man, peering down at her. He has dark hair and yellow eyes, and part of Rey feels like she should be panicked – but she’s not. Something about it feels so familiar, so at ease, that she doesn’t so much as blink. She should recognize him – in the back of her mind he is familiar – but she can’t pinpoint exactly where she knows him from.

“Don’t be afraid,” the man murmurs. He brushes his lips against her forehead and settles down next to her. He’s naked, but somehow Rey isn’t surprised. His hair is dark and wavy, his eyes expressive, his mouth soft.

“What are you?” she asks, and Rey meant to say who are you, but the words had a volition of their own.

He gave a small, wistful smile at that. “I’m afraid I’m not sure, little bird.” A hand comes up to caress her cheek. Rey leans into the touch – he’s warm, so warm. “It appears I’m a man, in the land of dreams.” His eyes are expressive, are deeper than a chasm, are gold.

Just like her dragon.

Rey lifted a hand and touched her fingers to his shoulder. She trails her hands up his neck, into his hair, brushing some stray strands behind his ear. He gives her a small smile, and leans closer.

His mouth is soft on hers when he kisses her. Rey finds herself giving into his touch, craving it. He hovers over her, shoulders wide, chest deep – this is a powerful man, but his touch is impossibly gentle. She wants to use him as a blanket, to wrap herself in his arms and never let go.

Something had ached in Kylo’s chest at that niggled in the back of his mind; on his clearer days – like today - he could recognize it as yearning for companionship. On his not-so-clear-days it manifested as a swirling pit of want inside of him. And that was his nature, wasn’t it? To want, to take, to hoard. Why should his apprentice be an exception to the rule?

But here with his apprentice curled against him in the predawn hours, Kylo was content. In the back of his mind he knew that this peace would not last; he had already experienced her dreams before, had no doubt it would happen again, and surely that would not end well…

Rey rousing from sleep drew him out of his thoughts. She blinked open her eyes and yawned, curled deeper into the cushions below her. “Morning,” she mumbled.

Good morning, little bird.

Chapter Text

The Spring Equinox had come and gone, but the wintry chill still clung to the air. The snow had melted, but the ground was covered in frost in the mornings. Rey was making her first trek into the town for the first time in weeks, Brutus in tow. Rey had half a mind to leash him, but he trotted dutifully at her heels. Besides. Should he try and run – or worse, attack – Rey had no doubt that she could stop him.

Nobody objected when she brought Brutus into the tavern with he.r He lay at her feet quietly, only moving to greet Finn when he arrived.

“What have we here?” Finn asked, squatting down to scratch Brutus behind the ears as the dog licked at him. “Aw,” Rey said, “He likes you.”

Finn grinned and slid into the seat across from her. “You won’t believe what I found!”

Rey’s eyebrows shot up. She leaned across the table as Finn produced a small map etched onto vellum. It was faded and worn around the edges, and written in an archaic form of the modern language.

Rey frowned. “What it is?”

“So – get this – the midwife who I’m working with, she’s got influenza. I’ve been taking care of her, and her cat -  you know how cats are –“ Rey wanted to correct him, to tell Finn that no, she didn’t know how cats are, but if cats were anything like dogs then she had an idea, but she couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Finn was too excited – “brings this little gem to Poe. Just drops it right in his lap. And Rey,” he leans forward, smoothing out the map. “It’s a map to Skywalker.”

“I – Skywalker?” Rey asked, tone hushed. A grin spread across her face, one she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. “How do you know?” She remembered the map that she’d left in Kylo’s cave and wondered if it was anything like that.

“Yep,” Finn tapped the map. “Detailed map of the Albion coast. See this,” he pointed to a small insignia, “Was his calling card.”

“How can you be sure – I mean, he hasn’t been around for ages…” Rey trailed off. Though she believed that Skywalker was alive, she was skeptical of the map’s validity.

“The midwife I work with – she’s ancient. Said she learned from one of Skywalker’s pupils. Oh – she wants to thank you for Agnodice’s text – and I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but I mean…” he trailed off, and Rey couldn’t help but cut in.

“We need to check it out.” Rey felt something inside of her swell. This is what she had travelled for, to find the living legend, to learn, to be one of the great mages…

The grin that broke out on Finn’s face told her it was what he wanted to hear. “Poe says it’s a myth, but he’s not a mage. He doesn’t get it. And,” he lowered his voice, leaned across the table, “Does…does your dragon know anything?”

And all at once, Rey felt the hesitation. She had more questions than answers regarding Kylo’s exact relationship with the Skywalkers. It was entirely possible that he’d simply raided their castle…but upon their first meeting, hadn’t he said something about Luke squandering a mageling’s potential?

“The way he spoke about Luke made me think he’s still alive. Other than that I can’t really say.” Rey felt a surge of annoyance. Kylo had never answered her questions, had just directed her to a book written in a language she couldn’t read.

“Can you ask him?” Finn pressed. “I want to be sure. I mean, I’m sure that he was there, in Albion, but if he’s not there anymore….I’d rather not go on a manhunt with the battles so close.”

“Battles? What battles?” Rey was taken aback. The Empire conquered – it was what the Empire did – but there were never battles. Surrenders, yes, or one-sided massacres, but never anything that could be called a battle.

“Maz Katana, in the North,” Finn said, a spark in his eye. “The General. Her people took an outpost by siege. Poe used to be in her army, but got shipwrecked in Carthage.”

Rey remembered Poe telling her about how he was looking for Maz, that he used to be in her Armada. “If the battle is up there, why is Poe staying down here?”

“Information,” Finn said. “Nobody would expect an enemy soldier to live in such a small town. Squadrons pass through here all the time, and anyone talks with enough alcohol in them.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll scry Maz for Poe, and he’ll relay what he can.”

“So you’re with the General, too?”

Finn shrugged. “Carthage and the Empire aren’t exactly friends, Rey.”

Rey shook her head. “I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I just – it seems dangerous, Finn. The Empire…” The Empire seemed unstoppable. “Please stay safe.”

“Says the girl who lives with a dragon.” But Finn offered a small smile. “We’re careful, Rey. We…we’re actually going to the capital soon. Poe found an informant, and I want to find sympathizers. Sow some unrest. Talk to more mages, see if there’s any legitimacy to this Skywalker thing. After, we’re heading North. For Skywalker.”

The Empire had plenty of unrest without Finn planting his seeds, but Rey said nothing. “Sounds like an adventure,” Rey said.

“You should come.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. “You want me to come with you?! To the capitol?”

Finn nodded. “Yes. It’s a day’s time travelling, and we expect to be there a week.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tuesday.”

Tuesday. Four days from then. Rey took a breath. “What do you need me for?”

Finn grinned. “Need is a strong word, but…it’d be nice to have another mage. We can find more about Skywalker. There's a Circle of Magi there, we can talk, and...” Finn’s voice took on a serious tone. “Poe…has some dangerous things he needs to do, and I’m really worried, Rey. I know it’s a lot to ask –“

“I’ll do it,” Rey blurted, surprising herself. Finn looked relieved. “Tell Poe. Tell me exactly what you’re doing. I’ll make sure it runs easily, I’ll bring what we need. Just…one condition.”

“What?”

“I get to bring Brutus with me.”

Rey returned to the cave with a vague sense of guilt hanging over her. She did her best to mask it from Kylo, unsure how she should go about telling him she’d be leaving for a week or so. It’s not like he would stop her, but Rey didn’t want to catch him in one of his moods.

The fates were against her. Kylo’s mood was truly black, the atmosphere around the cave turned ominous and heavy. Brutus whined as they approached. Even Jinx was nowhere in sight.

He greeted her with a grunt as she entered.

As she set her things down, he said, Tomorrow I’m leaving to hunt. I’ll be gone a while.

“Funny,” Rey said, “I’m going on a trip as well. To the Capitol.”

Kylo huffed. Stay safe, little bird. The Capitol is a big place.

Rey frowned. There was something simple about their interaction, something that was missing. Kylo’s flat affect was beyond his typical bouts of melancholy.

Rey sighed. Maybe going away would help him – he’d been like that for a few days now, and it was beginning to unnerve her.

Though it was officially spring, the nights dropped to frigid temperatures. Rey still slept curled up next to Kylo, but that night she felt as if her dragon were a million miles away.

It is rare that Kylo remembers, rarer still that he remembers with any clarity. But this evening is different – this evening everything is as sharp in his mind, the life he lived centuries ago. He’d been a prince and a scholar and a son, heir to the Alderaanian throne, with magical Skywalker blood in his veins…

Lineage. It always came back to lineage. And his family’s had been a strange one, had it not?

He makes the trip once every decade, flying across the sea to the archipelago. The islands were clustered around the edges of the continent, most of them forgotten by the reigning empire. Mortals shied away from these islands, for there is old magic at work there. Kylo knows this – he also knows he can’t bring his apprentice there, not yet.

So he excuses himself, tells Rey that he’s going hunting for several days, and leaves. She’s going on a trip too, to the Capitol, and the taste of war is iron-hot in his mouth. He does not want to lose her to the Empire’s ever-churning sea of blood.

He warns her to be careful and leaves at dawn.

The flight is easy in early spring weather. He moves quickly across the skies, flying for two days without rest, and lands on the island. It is rocky with sparse foliage, the gnarled roots of olive trees and the tufts of hardy grass are the only things growing in abundance.

The civilization that had once been there is in ruins. The stone houses built into the cliff sides are gone, the archways are merely stone slabs atop pillars.  Everything is overgrown, run amok with lizards. He lands at the place the palace would have been, had it not been burned to the ground.

Kylo feels a pang deep inside him; this is where his family had perished.

Everything is in ruins – that is, except the temple. The temple is pristine, untouched by the ages, by the fires, the raids. It looks the same way it had when Kylo had been a human child, centuries ago.

The columns were large and ornate, the entablature depicting some sort of battle and the family crest.

Across the freize read a family name in Alderaanian characters: Skywalker.

His grandparents.

He was their failed legacy.

Kylo steps inside the temple and feels a shiver as the old magic goes through him. He hates this part, how his body aches and twists and comes out all wrong and weak and wilted. He shakes his head as he takes on a new form – his true form, if he’s honest with himself – but that sort of raw honesty is something his heart cannot bear.

So instead he ignores the limitations of this form – this stupid mortal form that the temple imposes on him – and he walks up to the tombs. There are two of them; the bodies of his grandparents encased in crystal and perfectly preserved. A gift from the dragons, his mother had called it. A gift from his great-grandfather.

His great-grandmother – well. Nobody knew where she was, but the palace rumors were that she’d been alive and well, living with his great-grandfather. Kylo wonders if she survived the massacre.

He kneels in front of his grandfather’s tomb and rests his forehead against the crystal. “Is this is?” he asks. Is this the end of his kingdom? Is this – two tombs inside a temple that nobody can even see – the end to his family’s legacy?

He expect no answer and gets none.

Oftentimes, Kylo comes here waiting the return of his uncle. He knows that Luke is still alive, knows that the cowardly sorcerer fled when the kingdom was at its most vulnerable. Kylo had done everything he could to protect it- had sacrificed his very being to protect it – and this was how he was rewarded. Orphaned and forgotten, a failed legacy to the Skywalker name.

He returns to the island out of habit, in hopes of a clue, to find a new manuscript that he’d missed, to find a hide or hair of Luke, to grasp onto the last strings of hope…but there is none.

The guilt and sadness always hit him, but it never cuts this deeply. He never feels the overwhelming sense of sadness and dread and emptiness, the hot wetness pricking behind his eyes, the feeling of weakness and helplessness and wanting to die already, he’s been alive for far too long and he is tired, and there are no answers, and there’s nothing, there’s none…

There is no hope.

The thought hits him like a tidal wave, and for the first time in a decade Kylo Ren’s memories hit him full-force and his mortal heart is crushed with loneliness.

Chapter Text

Corellia was a bustling hub of energy. Rey was certain that she had seen more people over the past two days than she had in her entire lifetime. There were more smells and sounds and buildings than she could even process - it was claustrophobic and freeing and thrilling and revolting all at once.

She loved it.

She was also incredibly grateful that Poe had talked her out of bringing Brutus with her - he would've been impossible to control among the crowds. Most of the dogs in the city were smaller and less aggressive than her molossus, and all things considered he'd be happier in the care of a villager. 

For the most part Poe was busy with his informants. For the sake of subtlety he went alone, so Rey and Finn spent much of their free time in the markets, speaking to other mages and perusing magic shops - most of which turned out to be disappointing.

“Hopefully this one isn't shit,” Finn muttered to her as they entered one shop in particular. It was empty save for Rey, Finn, and two merchants; one sat behind a desk in the front and another was organizing old books in the back.

The floor-to-ceiling oak shelves were stacked with books and scrolls, gems and crystals, jars filled with things Rey couldn’t recognize. Out of curiosity, she took a book of the shelf and leafed through it. It was old, and she was half-afraid of ripping the paper as she browsed the pages, but...

Rey felt a glimmer of hope. This was written in the Alderaan language, which meant...

“What do you think?” Finn asked, peering over her shoulder. “Is it legitimate?”  

Rey grinned. “Yeah. I can’t believe we could only find one place after two days. I thought there’d be more...actual mages.”  Rey hadn’t known what to expect, but she’d certainly thought there’d be more than seedy merchants peddling potions that would make the recipient return your affections or old ladies in purple robes claiming your future was in the lines of your palm.

“Street magicians, nothing more,” said a voice from the other side of the shelves. Rey glanced at Finn and shrugged. “Might as well check it out,” he said.

“Over here,” said the voice.

The speaker was one of the merchants. He was slim, dark-haired, and had a strange, unnerving quality to his gaze. He sat behind a massive desk that was piled high with star charts and books and maps, wooden boxes stacked high behind him. 

“Nothing more?” Finn prompted. 

He shook his head. “Real magic users are few and far between these days. After Alderaan fell, most of the talent was lost. All we have left are the books,” he made a sweeping gesture around his shop, “and the cheats who cash in on an ignorant market.”

“We?” Rey said, intrigued. “Are there more of us? Mages?”

A derisive snort came from across the room. “There are no more mages. Just dreamers like this fool.”

A tall, tan man sauntered towards them, sizing them up. “Foreigners, huh? Looking for the lost teachings of the Alderaan empire?”

Rey and Finn shared a look. Rey coughed. “Uh...we’re just, around, you know... ”

“To learn,” Finn added. “You know -big city, more people...guess it was misguided.”

“Not entirely,” said the man behind the desk. He shifted in his seat, and Rey saw that he held a well-worn staff of dark wood; instead of a single gem, like hers, his was topped with ruby-encrusted silver. “If it’s learning you’ve searched for -”

“He’s a retired monk. He went blind from reading too many books. He’ll do the same to you, too, just you wait,” grumbled the other man.

Blind? Rey wondered, glancing at the man behind the desk again. She supposed she could see it now - his eyes had that hazy, gray quality that she’d seen on the blind old ladies on Jakku - but there was something else, something in his gaze that made her glance away when he looked at her and said, “Don’t mind Baze. He’s irritable now that he’s retired from sailing.”

“I’m Finn,” said Finn. “This is Rey.”

“Chirrut,” said the man behind the desk. “And you’ve met Baze. Now - what brings you to Corellia?”

Rey opened her mouth to speak, then stopped herself. What was she supposed to say? Well, my friend is here to stir up rebellion, as he wants to take down the Empire. I’m looking for a legendary sorcerer, Luke Skywalker. Maybe you’ve seen him?

“Well…we’re grasping at straws. But we’ve heard about an old sorcerer - rumor has it he’s in Albion…” at the mention of Albion, Baze almost jumped, eyes fixated on her; Rey trailed off, unsure what to do under such scrutiny. There was something odd about those two, something that made her wish she had her staff and her dragon to back her up. 

She was saved from having to continue by several people in white armor entering the store. Baze and Chirrut’s demeanor immediately changed, previous conversation forgotten. Finn stepped out of the way, behind the shelves; Rey took a few steps to the side, but watched the soldiers in fascination.

So this is the Imperial Army, she thought. On the surface, they seemed intimidating; their white armor covered them head to toe, and they each carried enough weapons for two men. A woman in chrome armor stepped forward. She removed her helmet and rested it on her hip, leaving her short blonde hair in disarray. She was a head and a half taller than Baze, who seemed to regard her with a cold contempt.

“Captain,” Chirrut greeted. “Here for your order, I presume?”

“Yes,” she said. She gestured to one of the soldiers, who placed a coin purse on the desk. Chirrut reached forward and weighed it in his hand. He nodded, and Baze retreated to the back of the store. Rey wondered what the Imperial army wanted in a magic shop.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Finn’s sudden grip on her forearm. He jerked his head back and Rey followed him to the other side of the store, hidden behind several shelves.

“We need to get out of here,” he said, voice low and urgent. “Now.”

Sweat had broken out on his brow, and his face was ashen. “What?” Rey asked, voice low. “Finn, what’s going on?!”

“We need to leave,” he insisted, and Rey left him half pull, half guide her to the front door. Rey cast a nervous glance over her shoulder; nobody seemed to pay them any attention, all focused on the very large wooden box that now sat atop the desk.

Chirrut’s unseeing eyes were the only ones to watch them leave.

As soon as they exited the store, Finn broke out into a near-run.

“Finn, hold up!” Rey said, picking up her pace to follow him. She tracked him down into an alley, where he was crouched over with his hands on his knees and a pile of his own vomit at his feet.

When he looked at her, the fear in his eyes made it seem like he was in a far-off place, like he couldn’t see her, like he’d get trapped there if Rey didn’t do something to ground him.

“Finn,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. His panic was contagious; part of Rey wanted to go into his mind and suggest calm , but part of her was too afraid to touch his mind even briefly if he was in such a state. She'd gotten used to de-escalating Kylo's moods, but this was something different, something worse. “Finn. They’re gone. We’re here.”  

“Right,” Finn said. He took a breath and straightened, took two staggering steps. 

“What was that?” Rey asked. What could have happened that made him so afraid? Was it the soldiers? Something in the shop?

When he didn’t answer, Rey took his hand. “Let’s get out of here."

The suggestion of leaving seemed to be the only thing to get through to Finn; a s they made their way back to the inn, Rey had to trot to keep up with his pace. He kept glancing over his shoulder and left and right, and took the most roundabout route to get back.

Finn went up the stairs of the Inn three at time. The room she, Finn, and Poe shared was long, with three beds and two large windows. Immediately, Finn drew the curtains, plunging the room into near-darkness.  Rey watched him from the edge of her bed as Finn paced back and forth.

“That was Phasma’s squadron,” he said. “I never thought - she could’ve recognized me. She didn’t, but she could’ve -”

“Finn, slow down - who’s Phasma? Was she the captain? Why would she recognize you?”

Finn swallowed. “I defected. From the Imperial Army. I - I was an officer, almost a captain. I did awful things, I...” He was tripping over his words and speaking so fast it was almost hard to follow, harder still to register the confession. She had always done her best to stay on the fringes of the Empire and its wars. It’s how she survived back in Jakku, and it was easy to forget about the goings-on in the world when she lived on her mountaintop.

“We were stationed in this port in Carthage and I - you know how when the Empire takes over, the men get drafted? I was ten when they sacked Carthage and twelve when I was chosen for the Army, but being back home, it...I left. Found my old family. Going AWOL is considered treason, and…” he trailed off, eyes locked on Rey. “They wanted us to burn Carthage’s capitol building. I...I couldn’t do it, Rey. Got into a fight with our squadron captain - Phasma. She wanted me punished for insubordination. But I defected. I can’t go back there, Rey - the things the Empire does - I can’t.”

He was pleading with her, as if she’d personally turn him over to Phasma. Rey wanted to remind him that she wasn’t making him do anything, but one look into his eyes and the words died in her throat.  

"Okay," she said, throat suddenly feeling tight. "Okay." 

Once Finn had calmed down - calm meaning that he had traded in pacing for pacing for bouncing his leg as he sat next to Rey on the edge of her bed - he made Rey promise not to tell Poe.

“Does he know you were a citizen under the Empire?” Rey asked. 

“Yeah,” Finn said. He rubbed his hands together. “But he doesn’t know I served in the army. I think he suspects, but…” Finn’s expression took on hard edges. “I’m keeping that behind me. People love and fear the Empire - and for good reason - but the atrocities it commits…”

Rey nodded and put hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me - listen. Nobody saw you, and that’s what matters. Poe is going to meet his informant, and then we’ll know where to go from here. Okay?” Rey gave his shoulder a squeeze for emphasis. She wanted to brush her consciousness against his, send a calming influence, but she respected him too much - as a friend and a mage - to do so.

It made her feel powerless. “Here, why don’t we find a pub. Drown our sorrows in a pint.”

Finn gave her an odd look, but didn't protest the idea. Rey could tell his heart wasn't into it, but she wanted to distract him until Poe came back. Poe always seemed to make Finn's mood lighten. The two of them shared a bond that made Rey hyper aware that Kylo was out of her reach. Normally it didn't bother her much, but right now...

She took a breath and put the thought out of her mind. Pining over a moody reptile would do her no good right now. 

"You know," Finn said later, speech slightly slurred, "That's what Phasma always used to say." 

Rey frowned. "What?" 

"'Drowning sorrows in a pint.' She always told the new recruits to do it if they got upset at, y'know, casualties." 

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

Chapter Text

Rey and Finn sat in a tense silence until Poe arrived, entering through the pub doors and making  beeline towards them. The man was excited, his eyes bright and his grin triumphant as he bounded over and set a rolled up piece of parchment on the table. “I found us a ride to Maz’s camp. To Skywalker. To Albion.”

His excitement was infectious; Finn perked up noticeably, shifting his seat over so Poe could fit at the table. The two of them worked like a well-oiled machine; again, their companionship reminded Rey of her and Kylo.

“Where?” Finn said, already unrolling the map.

“Get this,” and Poe lowered his voice, placed his forefinger on the northwest of the map, right at the coast. “It’s where Maz is stationed, now. She’s on the mainland. Not searching for Skywalker - she’s content to do without him - but she’s stirring up rebellion. The Empire is falling up North.”  He seemed absolutely delighted at the concept. “The slave ports to the East are destroyed. It’s happening. And the Emperor, well - old bastard - hopefully he’ll find a way to die. Maz is right across the channel from Albion,” and here, he moved his forefinger to an island. “And this is where Skywalker was last seen. The rumors are that the Empire is failing because of Skywalker. That he's their undoing.”

Rey glanced around, almost afraid that someone had overheard Poe’s hushed tones - almost. But nobody was looking; nobody was interested.

“How are we getting there, again?” Rey asked, tentatively. She was excited - of course she was - but she had to be practical. “That’s almost on the other side of the continent.”

“Right, right - so, there’s this guy - bear of a man, bigger than me - and he needs mages to stabilize his ship. Wants to take a shortcut that’s a bit more dangerous, I told him that you’d be able to handle it, that you’d trained under a dragon - he didn’t believe me, of course, but i think it got the point across...”

Rey bit her tongue. She didn’t want to advertise in every city they went to that she was under Kylo’s tutelage, and she knew that Kylo felt the same way.

Finn glanced at Rey. “You think we can do it?”

Rey glanced from Finn, to the map, to Poe. “How long will we be sailing? Do we have another option?” She’d never been sailing before, not truly, and she wasn’t sure how keen on it she was.  

“Four days,” he said. “Maximum. The captain - you’ll meet him, he’s just outside - is worried about storms and pirates. Nothing we can’t handle. And he’s okay if you bring your dog with you.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Finn said, nudging her. “And I’m eager to get out of the city.”

Of course.  But try as she might, Rey couldn't put aside her unease. The reality of finding Skywalker, after months of training with Kylo...it almost felt like a betrayal. But you're not going to stay with Luke, she reminded herself. You're just going to...meet him.  “Okay,” she said, steeling herself. “Let’s go meet the captain.”

Kylo didn’t know why he was still drawn to the temple of his grandparents; his yearly trips were always fruitless. Maybe he thought that his uncle, the sorcerer, would appear; maybe he thought that his curse would be broken, that the ancient magic that kept him bound would dissipate.

Rey would love the temple, he thought to himself. She’d coo over the artwork and architecture, ask him about the history of his grandparents, marvel at the magic used in their tombing. She’d ask to see the orchards and the overgrown gardens, and she’d probably sit atop the ruins to watch the sunset…

He couldn’t help but wonder what she would’ve thought of his kingdom in its glory days. What she would’ve thought about the libraries, the laboratories, the stables.

What she would’ve thought about him.

What she would think of his mortal form.

Perhaps if things were different…perhaps, if he could confront his shame and admit the truth, bring her here so she could know him as a man...

No. He can’t allow his mind to go there. The girl could never be his, not truly, not in the way that mortals thought about it. And perhaps that was the worst part of the curse: the isolation, the loneliness. He’d almost forgotten how alone he was, until she had come along.

He wandered deeper into the temple. It was the same as it had been the last time he’d come, the relics and treasures undisturbed by time or thieves. Yes, the old magic ran deep here, another gift of the dragons to his grandfather.

Kylo smiled ruefully to himself. Growing up he had never believed the myth that the late king was sired by a dragon, that dragon blood ran in the Skywalker family.

“You know why your mother has a temper, don’t you?” he remembered his father saying. “She’s a quarter dragon. Lucky for me, you’re only an eighth.”

“My great-grandfather can’t be a dragon,” he’d insisted, in his nine-year-old naivete. “Dragons and humans can’t have children.”

Han had ruffled his hair; if Kylo shut his eyes, he could almost feel it, as if the memory had come to life. “All that studying with Uncle Luke and you still don’t think a dragon can shapeshift?”

And here he was, centuries later - a dragon who couldn’t shapeshift at will. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He knew he’d have to leave her when he made his trip. But he hadn’t anticipated how much his heart would ache for her. How much he would want to run his human hands through her hair; to brush his human lips against her brow; to hold her in his mortal arms and never let go. 

Thoughts of his girl followed him like a ghost as he wandered deeper into the catacombs of the temple. 

The ship captain was a bear of a man, his arms thick and his face covered in a beard. Poe introduced him a Captain Chewbacca. 

The man took a look at Finn and Rey, frowned, but nodded, and gave them instructions on when they would leave. "Maz has been good to me," he said, with something unreadable in his eye. "I would be remiss to not bring her finest commander back to her." 

And so it was settled: Chewbacca, captain of the schooner, would give them free passage to Maz’s battle camp in exchange for the two mages to guarantee them safe passage. Rey wanted to point out that she was a mage and not a miracle-worker, that even she only had so much control over the weather, but one look at the gruff, bear of a man kept her quiet. The air between them all had been tense, ever since Finn had caught sight of his old captain, after Poe had heard the news from the war front. He whispered to them an awestruck tone of the battles, how nigh-miracles were happening- the sick were healed, almost-lost battles turned at the last moment, the injured making miraculous recoveries -how it must be Skywalker that was turning the tide of the war.

If Rey were honest with herself, she’d admit that she was intrigued. Part of her wondered if there were other dragons - others like Kylo who kept to themselves so much as to earn the reputation of extinct. Part of her hoped so; if not for the sake of the tides of the war, but for Kylo’s. He hid it well - and Rey wasn’t even sure if the dragon recognized it himself - but he was so lonely…

And what will he do, she couldn’t help but think, when I’m gone?

She didn’t like to think of it - the day that she would inevitably have to leave his cave and set out on her own. The day that she would leave the continent. The day - hopefully decades from now - when she died.

Rey banished the thoughts from her head and quelled the rising sadness inside of her. She hadn’t tried to contact him so far during her week of travel. She always felt him there, in the back of her mind. She knew that wherever he was travelling to, he was safe.

She longed to reach out, longed to check in on him. But she didn’t know if their link would allow communication over such distances, or if he even would want to hear from her. He’d been so moody, in those days leading up to her departure…

Rey sighed and berated herself. Of course she should reach out to him. Even if he wasn’t happy to hear from her, he would at least like to know that she was doing well, and she him.

So it was then - that second day on the ship, alone in her cabin with Brutus curled at the foot of her bunk, Rey closed her eyes and tapped into that tiny shard of Kylo that was always in the back of her mind.

Kylo?

Almost a full minute later, and only silence greeted her; not even a brush of his mind against hers. Rey tried not to indulge her disappointment; perhaps he was asleep. Perhaps he was busy. Perhaps…

Perhaps, she thought, he doesn’t wish to hear from me.

And it was with that morose thought that Rey, disappointment clogged in her throat, fell into an uneasy, troubled sleep.

Kylo slept fitfully, that night in the temple.

He laid himself down on one of the elaborate beds - there had been acolytes here, once upon a time, and the old magic of the temple kept their subterranean living quarters untouched. Comfortable as the bed was, safe as the temple was, sleep did not find him easily.

He missed the girl - missed her so profoundly it felt like a vice around his heart. Even so, when she brushed her mind against his he made no move to respond.  

He could not bring himself to speak to her. Not in this form. Not now. Perhaps, one day, he could explain the curse. Explain his shame. Tell her how he caused the downfall of his kingdom, of his people, of his empire. But his thoughts would get muddled up, in his other form; the memories would come and go in waves, and he would be left with a simmering anger at the sentiments he could not express. He loathed how his own shortcomings were often the cause of rifts between them.

But at least, were she by his side, sleep would come easier.

In all his centuries as a mortal and a dragon, he’d never slept so well. And - when she was gone - he doubted he’d sleep so well again. Such was the cruel curse of immortality: he’d lived long enough to meet her in his lifetime…

But she is mortal. And she will die. And you will live on. Just as he’d watched his kingdom fall, witnessed his family and friends slaughtered, and all but wasted away in self-imposed exile as the world he’d known was replaced by another, and another, and another after that.

There was a spell, he was sure, that could extend her life. But would she want that? Would she to spend her days with a beast the world thought extinct? He could take her here, to this temple, and she would know him in his mortal form - but would that be enough? Would he be enough?

And it was with those thoughts at the forefront of his mind that Kylo Ren fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes, his head was in Rey’s lap, his arm wrapped around her waist and his body curled around her. Her fingers combed through his hair, traced circles on the nape of his neck. He lie there a moment as chills ran down his spine. How often had he lain his head in her lap as a dragon? How often had she run her fingers over his scales one by one?

So why was it now that her touch felt like a slow, steady, exquisite torture?  

If his nudity bothered her, she didn’t comment.

He swallowed thickly and shifted, propped himself up on one elbow. He was in the same bed that he'd fallen asleep in; by the looks of the light outside the window, it was just before sunrise. “Rey?”

“Are you all right?” she asked, worry thick in her tone. “You - you’ve been gone awhile. And in your sleep...you were crying…”

He touched his fingers to his cheeks and felt the wetness there but ignored it. The early morning sun rose being her, bleeding gold around her edges, and in that moment she was the most beautiful thing Kylo had laid eyes on. He rose to he knees and reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over the perfect shape of her mouth. 

“You are lovely,” he told her breathlessly, voice hoarse. “You are the loveliest creature I have ever seen.”

Hazel eyes slanted over him a moment, then looked away. But her hand came to rest atop his, gave it a squeeze and guided it down to rest in her lap.  Coy.

“Why do you stay?” he asked. “With me? When I am so - when I am like this.” He choked on the words, shame rising inside of him. Surely she must know - that this weak form of his could only visit her in dreams; that he was too much of a prideful coward to admit his folly to her.

But Rey only placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him down. 

“Shhh,” she crooned. “Shhh. Relax.”

He followed her suggestion, lying his head down. She followed, facing him, kept his hand in hers. “You...I don’t know you very well,” she began, and her words sliced through him like ice. She took her hand from his and traced it up his forearm, his bicep, his shoulder, easint the blow. “But you are troubled. And you are kind. And you...you remind me of someone I care about very much. You have his eyes.”

She made to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, but he caught her hand, dwarfing it in his grasp. They locked eyes, and Kylo felt himself melt under her warm dark gaze. “Just his eyes?” he asked, pressing her hand to his mouth and brushing his lips against it. Her lips quirked into a smile, mirroring his own. She continued her ministrations, trailing her fingers over his neck, his collarbones, his chest, and his eyes fluttered shut. And Kylo could've stayed like that forever, half-asleep, his world narrowed to the sound of Rey's breathing and the feel of her hands on him. 

“Perhaps more,” she amended after several minutes. Kylo cracked open an eye. “Although you two look nothing alike. But you feel the same as he does." Her hand rested against his cheek. "Like I’ve known you much longer than I have. But I only see you in my dreams. And they’re so hard to remember…please." Her voice wavered. Her eyes glistened. "Tell me where I can find you.” 

There was something desperate about her words, and Kylo felt his aching heart beat in tandem with hers. “I’m here,” he said. He took her hand - how often had this delicate hand touched his hide, in his other form - and pressed it over the left side of his naked chest. “I’m in this temple. But I will come home to you.” 

When she did not respond, he gathered her into his mortal arms and held her tight - and oh, what he would give for her to be with him like this, always - and pressed his lips to her brow. "I will always come home to you."

Kylo felt her hand curl against his chest. “Promise?”

“I promise, little bird.”

And they lay like that, separated by continents but united in dreams, until morning drew them into their own worlds. 

When Kylo Ren awoke, his eyes were wet and his heart ached for her tenfold. 

Chapter Text

Kylo Ren made one last attempt to contact Luke before he departed from the temple.

His magic was stronger but less precise, his mind was more muddled as the beast. And as the centuries passed - as it became harder and harder to tap into the memories of his family - the tracking spells were best performed in his mortal body, with his mortal mind and mortal memories. If he shut his eyes he could remember the last time he saw his uncle as a mortal, surrounded by the burning remains of his beloved city, a searing pain exploding behind his eyes as the change ripped through him…

Kylo Ren chalked the last sigil onto the stone floor and knelt in front of the ornate oval mirror he’d set in the center. He murmured the spell, the almost-forgotten language, under his breath and waited anxiously for something, anything, other than his own reflection to appear. He was forgetting what he’d looked like as a man, and for those first few terrifying seconds he didn’t recognize his own reflection. It was only the eyes - sad, and old, and yellow - that grounded him, reminded him who and what he was.

But they hadn’t always been yellow, had they? No, he’d had brown eyes once, warm like honey, warm like his mother’s, like his grandmother’s…

Even his eyes were a lie.

He watched as his reflection faded and the surface of the mirror rippled like water. Kylo waited with bated breath. Usually this is where it would end. The spell would falter and show him nothing, blocked by whatever ancient magic his uncle had shrouded himself in.

But this time…

His heart lept into his throat. Before him, a scene took shape: a lush green countryside, dotted with purple heather. Slate gray skies. In the distance, an ocean.

The northern islands - the outer reaches of Alderaan’s ancient territory. Home to ancient temples and old magic…

And there - walking down a dirt path - was a man in gray robes. Kylo recognized the gait - a limp, sustained from a riding accident - and the staff, carved from birch…

As if sensing that he was being watched, the man looked up, blue eyes widened in surprise that soon gave way to fear. His hand reached out, magic cracking at his fingertips -

And the surface of the mirror showed Kylo his reflection once more.

Kylo sat back, heart hammering in his chest. He clenched his fists against his thighs to keep his hands from shaking. Luke. It was Luke.

Skywalker was alive.

Fear and fury surged through his veins, burned hot in his throat. Kylo Ren put his fist through the mirror with a roar.

It was seconds later until he felt the pain, until he noticed the blood on his knuckles. This form was so pathetically fragile, so easily broken.

Kylo!

He loosed a string of ancient curses in his mother tongue. The pain was so severe that Rey had felt it half a world away. He looked at his shattered reflection once more as he decided what to do. Did he dare speak to her, in this form? Risk her learning all his secrets? What would she do if she dug too deeply into his mind and saw him for what he truly was?

His hesitance caused her to worry. Kylo! Are you okay?

Perhaps it was the pain, perhaps it was the appearance of Skywalker, but Kylo Ren was unable to shut her out. His lips formed the words as his mortal voice, raw from disuse, said, “Yes, little bird?”

Rey felt the pain surge through her hand just as she was falling asleep.

It jolted her awake, had her thinking for a split second that maybe one of the venomous snakes or spiders had stowed away on the ship - but no. She investigated her hand as best she could in the dim light of her cabin.

Nothing was wrong with it, and yet that dull, throbbing pain - the feeling of blood trickling down her fingertips...

Kylo.

  Part of her was relieved. If Kylo was in pain, then Kylo was alive. He'd been difficult to reach these past few weeks, aloof and elusive, and Rey - along with being worried - missed him terribly. 

In her sleep-addled state, Rey dimly wondered why the bond had chosen now to become sympathetic - surely, Kylo wouldn’t choose to share his pain with her. Instead she scrunched her eyes shut and shouted down the bond as forcefully as she could, Kylo!

She waited with bated breath. The pain in her hand didn’t subside. Rey clenched her teeth against it. 

He was okay. He had to be. Kylo Ren was a dragon, the most powerful creature in this world or the next. 

But still...

Kylo Ren was her dragon. She wouldn't sleep unless she knew he was okay. 

Kylo! Are you okay?!

His response came: Yes, little bird?

Relief washed over her and she slouched back into her hammock. Are you hurt?

His voice felt rusty from disuse; this was the first waking moments he’d used it in centuries. It sounded far away and unfamiliar to his ears, as if he were listening to a stranger.

And yet…

And yet, it felt... good, to talk to Rey as a man, here and not in the realm of dreams.

“I’m fine,” he told her, looking down to assess the damage done to his hand.  Shards of glass were stuck in his knuckles. Kylo sat back onto his heels and began picking them out. “Just a scratch.”

Why do i feel it?

Kylo winced. “I never meant for you to feel pain.” The truth came so easily from his lips in the temple, bubbled up in his throat and demanded to be released. But he swallowed and said, “It must be the magic of this place.”

He could almost see her shifting in place, settling back down. You chose a convenient time to get injured. I was asleep.

“Sweet dreams, I hope?”

I was drinking dandelion wine on the southern beaches. I’d say so. Anything beats sea travel.

He felt her wince as he pulled out three glass shards in quick succession. Part of him found the pain grounding, would have liked to drag it out longer - to remind himself that this is why he abandoned mortality in the first place. To remind himself that the world no longer had a place for creatures like him. That Skywalker had all but disappeared into legends and myths, and he might as well too…

He must’ve been silent for too long, because he felt her prodding at his consciousness. ...Kylo?

“Sorry,” he said. He removed the final pieces of glass from his hand, and murmured a quick healing spell. “Is that better?”

The healing spell sent a small chill through him, made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end. And Rey…

If he shut his eyes and concentrated, he could see her toes curl, see her back arch. He felt the faintest pressure on his own mouth when she bit her lip, and idly he wondered what it would be like to kiss her…

She remained silent. Terrified that she’d read his thoughts, Kylo prodded, “...Rey?”

It’s better, she said, voice tight, controlled. I’m glad you were able to heal yourself.

He sighed in relief. “I’m not sure how long the sympathetic bond will last, I’m afraid. You might have to block me if it happens again. It might be awhile before I can heal it.”

You could always just stay out of trouble.

“You’ve gotten into enough trouble. It’s my turn now.” He sat back, leaned against the wall of the temple. He’d missed this, he realized. Sharing what parts of himself that he could with the feisty desert girl.  “How is travelling?”

And Kylo Ren, Crown Prince of the Lost Alderaanian Empire, smiled to himself as Rey told him about the ship captain and her friends, of the cities and ports that she’d seen - of a shiny black lizard that she’d found almost taken home with her.

I would have named him Kylo.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as it touched his mind. No. There’s only one of you.

Something new and warm bloomed in his chest, and she continued, You’ll never believe it, but we found a map to Skywalker’s island.

Kylo Ren’s mind came to a screeching halt and his stomach bottomed out.  Skywalker. His uncle was alive - and if Kylo had been able to find him then Rey might be, too. And if she found him before Kylo did - if she found him at all -

He would lose her.

I have to go, he told her. Go back to sleep, little bird. Safe travels.

And before Rey could respond, Kylo Ren tore out of the temple.

He let the force of the change nearly cleave him in two.