Chapter Text
The day was to prove to be a warm one. Rey Darling could only think of it as the last day of her life. Her mother had been unwilling to hear her protests, and her father had disappeared like a will-o-the-wisp, gone away on the air, only to be called back by a dark night or a fairy ring. She knew he had not been in agreement with what was about to happen, but the will of her mother and the desperate need to improve their station had overrode them. It was then a horrible truth she had yet to accept: she was to be married.
She had gotten up early with the intent of slipping away unnoticed. Her intent might have been to run away, but she realized she couldn't fathom putting the shame of that on her family. She had seen 'compromised' women in the town, begging for coin with whatever they had to give. She realized that it might have been her future if she ran away from her predestined course. She had dressed in a white morning gown, though it felt much more like 'mourning' in her estimation. She'd gathered up her favorite, worn novel and gone traipsing through the undergrowth around the family estate.
It was hard to wander too far. She came up against the town of Jakku before she meant to, and she could hear the bustle of a morning just beginning even at the edges of it. She skated by the shop, glancing in the window to find that the shopkeeps had put up new dresses, most of them flannel and plaid, in shades that Rey was not sure should ever be put together. It was easy to feel as if this was just any other morning, not the morning that would preview the day that would change her life forever, irrevocably.
She knew that if she wandered too long, her mother would send the servants after her. Rey hated to be trouble, but she wished she could wander so far that no one would ever find her....especially not Kylo Ren. She had been with him in company only two times, both of which had left a foul taste in her mouth. Rey was used to being jovial and witty, and Kylo Ren was neither. His replies were monosyllabic, and she thought that perhaps it might suit him better to just grunt them out. What need had he for forming words? He was far too rich for that. He could have his servants reply for him.
The second time he had cornered her out on the balcony, forcing her to converse with him. It had only been minutes, but any length of time seemed like too long. He neither knew what to say, nor cared about how to carry on a conversation. She thought of how he looked on her way back home, his long hair styled away from his face which could only be described as 'broody' and 'pouting'. He had a heavy brow, and each emotion registered briefly across his face before he carefully schooled it into compliance. It was easier to read Latin than it was to read Ren. He was too stormy by half, and nothing like the blond haired, dashing Prince she had often dreamed of.
The shabby Darling estate came on her like a bad dream - too soon. The Ivy threatened to strangle the stone walls whole, and her father had been meaning to 'mend' the shutters on the windows for eons now, but they stood half ajar, hanging from their frames like drooping and dying flowers. She wondered if they would be repaired, now that she was to marry the richest man in the county...perhaps even in the country. He was the heir to a great fortune, the first born son of the Solos, who (her mother had it on good authority) brought in over ten thousand a year.
Rey barely had time to think on it before her mother came running out to meet her. She was an exasperated woman whose hair had gone gray at the temples. She used tight curlers, giving her the mocking air of an old woman who still tried to appear young. She was still wearing her house dress, and her cap had gone askew on her head from the activity. Rey could see the dust gathering on her slippers, which had seen better days.
"My goodness!" She exclaimed, grabbing Rey forcefully by her wrists and dragging her in the direction of the house. "We began to wonder if you'd ever come back!"
"Mother, wait," Rey struggled against the vice grip her mother had on her, but it was no use.
"You have already wasted enough time!" She exclaimed. "We hardly have enough time to dress you before we must go to the church! You do not want to risk him changing his mind, do you?"
Rey kept dreaming about someone swooping in and saving her from this, but she realized that there was no one to stop the marriage. Of course, there had been a flirtatious dalliance or two with the officers that occasionally posted in Jakku, but nothing had ever stuck. Her mother had made it quite apparent that unless he brought in an income, there was to be no promise of marriage. Rey had thought this was what kept her from marrying previously, but she realized with some sadness that she had neither loved, nor cared about these men. At least she had tolerated them. It was not so with Kylo Ren.
Rey found herself ushered in the direction of her room. The one maid they were able to accommodate would assist her with her dress, though Rey found the room empty as of yet. The gown had been given to her some time ago, placed in a box too fine for anything with a hand written note from Ren. She hardly recalled what the note had said. It was expected that she should wear this gown. It wouldn't be tolerated if she showed up in one of her ratty old country bumpkin dresses. She supposed, when she looked at it, she was meant to feel wonder, but it struck no similar cord in her.
Eventually, Hen came in and helped her out of her morning gown. The hem was covered in mud, and she wondered if she would ever wear it again. She didn't doubt that there was already a wardrobe full of clothes waiting for her at the large estate of the First Order. She gasped and struggled as Hen sucked her into a too tight corset, drawing it so tightly that Rey was sure she heard some of her ribs cracking beneath the pressure. Her long, dark hair was twisted up around a crystalline headband. The style was youthful, the headband peeking through her dark curls. She adjusted it as Hen dragged out the gown, glittering with bead work hand sewn onto embroidered muslin.
She felt it slide down over her frame, silk whispering against the bare bits of her flesh. Hen buttoned it up efficiently, standing back with a measure of pride reflected on her features.
"You look lovely, miss," She sighed. "What a finely made gown."
Rey resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Thank you, Hen," She muttered. "I appreciate your kindness."
"Oh my, don't be so formal with me! I know you are miserable about this," She frowned. "Just think of his money! That would be enough to cheer anyone."
Rey felt her jaw clench up. That seemed to be the excuse that everyone gave for him, just as they excuse the crassness of her family because they had 'fallen upon hard times'. Hen didn't seem to notice the look of displeasure as it crossed her features.
"Be on your way now, miss! Your parents are waiting with the carriage."
Rey lifted the gown in her hand, trying to keep the hem from dragging in the dust outside of their small cottage. Her mother looked pleased, and her father wasn't even looking at her. He was a drawn man who seemed displeased with every thing in his life, but Rey could not blame him. She knew her mother, after all. The carriage was not theirs. It was a large thing, black, with all the accouterments of a man who had something to prove by riding around the countryside in such a beast. Of course, she had never seen Ren on anything excepting a horse.
She had only the ride to the church to try and settle herself with the idea that, by that evening, she was to be a married woman.
Mrs. Ren.