“You’re not ordinary girls anymore, you’re houris. You need to take on that role, which shouldn’t be so hard if you try. But if any one of you gives us away to our visitors, she’ll have to die immediately.” The girls were seized with fear. They kept quiet and worked diligently....
“Oh, what’s the use,” Fatima remarked at last. “What will be, will be. I’ve been in a harem where we had to act and pretend constantly. Men, especially when they’re still young, aren’t all that bright. It’s easy to fool them. Playing houris in these gardens won’t be that difficult either.” Vladimir Batrol, “Alamut”
The door to his quarters finally opened, but he wasn’t eager to step inside. And yet there was nothing unpleasant to expect: The room seemed intact, and those few things he had kept stored on shelves were exactly where he had left them.There were no signs of a fight, either. The only thing that was oddly out of place was Rey, standing in the middle of the apartment in complete silence.
She had bathed and changed into simple black clothes, prepared for her by the droids. Her hair was still curly and wet. When she heard him walking through the door she turned to face him. Although in her eyes he could no longer see the storm of thoughts and feelings, he spotted a particular glint, which—over the last few weeks—he had learned to recognize immediately,and which never meant anything good.
“I want to get my things back,” she said instead of a greeting. “And I want you to take this thing off your face.” “I don’t grant prisoners’ wishes.” “Prisoners?” She snapped. “I gave up without a fight!” “Indeed.” He let out a snort of amusement, his voice distorted by the mask’s modulator. “Because I told you that otherwise I would cut your beloved teacher’s head off of his neck.”
Rey didn’t let him provoke her. “I came here freely and I don’t plan on escaping.” The tone of her voice suddenly softened. “Give me my things back, Kylo.” Before he had a chance to think his arms lifted, his fingers instinctively looking for the button unlatching the complicated mechanism.
He had this fleeting thought that it is exactly what she told him to do, but screw it, he needed air to breathe. With a hiss the mask was gone; with a metallic thud it fell to the floor. “Your lack of respect for any rules… Your ignorance of any rules! It is…” He stopped, words already failing him.
He made a gesture as if he wanted to shake his hands—something that Ben Solo used to do then he was distressed—but fortunately, he managed to stop himself. She tried again. “We could talk this through.” “You are in no position to make such proposals!” he exclaimed. “You don’t understand any of this, do you?” She didn’t, at all.
When he was a kid, C-3PO taught him chess rules. In the beginning he played with his mother; later he practiced on his own, and soon no one except for the droids could beat him. He enjoyed the times when Uncle Luke visited them. He never refused a match or two. Luke, raised on a desert planet, spent all his youth working on a farm. He knew only the basics of the game.
Sometimes he managed surprisingly effective moves: seemingly absurd and irrational, moves that no droid would advise. Yet this unpredictability often gave him upper hand. Every fight with Rey was just like a chess match. The most disgraceful, perhaps, was his failure on the surface of crumbling Starkiller Base, but their verbal duels were even worse.
He felt that he was losing every time Rey decided to open her mouth. Now it was her voice that brought back him to reality. “I haven’t tried to escape,” she said, lowering her head. “And I can promise you that I won’t do it. But I want to get my things back.”
She looked him in the eye, and suddenly there was resolve in her gaze. As if she decided on a matter known only to her, she crossed the space between them in a couple of small but steady steps. He should have stopped her, yet somehow he didn’t, and now she was standing inches away. She tilted her head, determined to see his face.
He too could see her better: her skin darker in the places where the merciless sun touched her on Jakku, pale and delicate where the layers of fabric covered her arms. She was standing so close that he could smell the grey soap from her bath and an underlying scent of rust and grease.
For a brief moment he wondered how long would it take to wash it off completely and if he would like it or not. But there was something more, something sweet, salty and undeniably feminine. Flavor that made him gasp for air. His cheeks and ears were burning.
“You know I can give you whatever you want.” His own words reversed and voiced by her lips sounded crude. He used to think better of himself. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he protested. “I don’t know many things,” she said, “but I know some things for sure. I know about men and woman and how they fit together...
...I saw many travelers in Niima Outpost, and I saw how hungry they were. You may have a ship, guards and clothes made of silk, but you are no different. I know what it means, this look in your eyes. Don’t lie to me.”
He moved his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Without a warning she grabbed his tunic and tugged at it, forcing him to bend lower.He observed rather than felt as his body slowly gave in until he was practically bowing before her, and that was when her lips met his.
He froze, his mind a flurry of incoherent thoughts, but then he pushed, their noses and teeth colliding as he forced his tongue clumsily into her mouth. She didn’t seem to care. One of her small hands grabbed his wrist to guide his palm under the band of her trousers. She didn’t have underwear. He cursed against her lips and grabbed her thigh; it was soft under the touch.
The higher his fingers went, the warmer her body seemed, until he reached her folds, wet and sticky. Without thinking he pushed deeper, too preoccupied to notice Rey’s grimace. Yet when she let out a moan he noticed that one of her eyes was slightly open, still watching him carefully.
He felt a sting of fear in the pit of his stomach, and he imagined for a second that something terrible might happen if he entered any further, like something sharp and pointed might await him there. This thought was ridiculous, but it stopped him. Rey blinked, disoriented. Things were getting out of hand....
“My bedroom is behind that door on the left. Go there. Stand beside the bed,” he ordered. “Now!” *** To be continued...