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When Kylo and Phasma had finished eating, they both went in search of Rey, only to be told that she had already ridden out. On her own.

"Banna tað! What was she thinking?"

Phasma was frowning, even as she patted his shoulder, "Calm down, it is broad daylight, I doubt she will be gone long, she knows the risks more than we, remember?" she paused then said quietly, "If this bond thing is really what it seems to be, she may need space to get her head straight, and, well, this was her first time, was it not? So I imagine she may be a little overwhelmed."

Kylo grunted as he glared at the archway and gate that led out to the road, almost as if he tried hard enough, Rey would come riding through it..

"Come," Phasma said, pulling at his shoulder, "Let us wake the others and make sure everything is ready for tonight. There is still much to do and it will distract you from worrying."

Turning away from the gate to look at her, he found Phasma fighting a small smile, "What?"

Shaking her head at him she allowed her smile to show, "I've just never seen you like this over a woman. The great Kylo Ren has finally fallen, I never thought I would see the day."

Rolling his eyes, he huffed a sigh as he shook her hand off his shoulder, and started back to the castle, "Stop being so dramatic, Phas."

"Me? You were the one that used the word destiny, not I… What will you tell your mother? She has been throwing high born ladies at you for the past five or so years."

A shiver of horror ran through him, what was he going to tell his mother? She herself had married a commoner, a rich one, to be sure, but still of low birth… and anyway, what were he and Rey now? He shook his head, now was not the time.

"We have more pressing matters to think of at the moment. Until we have wiped out the," he glanced at the sun briefly, as if to check it was still there, despite the burn on his skin, "Marwolaeth, I do not intend to think of anything else."

Phasma snorted behind him as they entered the cool stone of the castle entrance, "That is well and good, but surely you will tell the others?"

While he didn't keep things from his Knights, he was at a loss as to how to bring it up and decided now was not a good time, "For now, nothing. You know it would only distract them and we cannot afford that at this stage. Even with all the extra guards and Rey's blood, I think whatever comes, this will be a close fight."

She remained silent as they walked, but just before they reached the corridor that housed the Knight's rooms, she murmured, "You are sure you wish to keep it from them? What if it will gain us an advantage? This bond of yours?"

"I do not wish to, but I think it will be for the best," he answered heavily, "And I doubt whatever this bond may prove to mean, that it would aid us in this. Luke and I have agreed that Rey should stay here, where it is safe. We do not know how the creatures will affect her - the ancient one she speaks of with such fear may prove too much for her. I am not willing to risk her, she has done her part in giving her blood, I will not ask more of her."

"I find I doubt that she will like that, Kylo. This is her fight after all, more so than ours," Phasma said wryly, "I suspect she would be the first to cross blades and the last to put them down."

Kylo smiled slightly, "She will not be given a choice, Luke told me there are cells here, when she returns, we will be tasked with making sure she is locked inside one. I know she will protest, but," he shrugged, "Tað er hvat tað er."

"She has lost an awful lot of blood," Phasma conceded grudgingly, "But she will be furious, and you may find she will not welcome your company after this is over."

Part of Kylo concurred with that, but he also felt sure that his tiny Trollskïr would forgive him, eventually anyway, "So be it."

They were busy with the preparations and final planning for the attack, but he still found himself uneasy with Rey's continued absence.

Of course the sun was high in a cloudless sky, its glare merciless, but he could not help feeling a creeping sense of apprehension every time he went to see if she had returned and found that she had not.

Even though she had the protection of sun, her riding out at all still made him angry and a little afraid that she now regretted what they had done, that she thought it a mistake. Although he didn't fully understand what it was that bound them, he could not find it in himself to regret it. It had felt right somehow, he had not meant it flippantly when he used the word destiny.

It was two hours past noon when Poe came tearing into the library, interrupting his conversation with Luke as he shouted, "You're both needed at the stables, Now!"

An icy dread ran up Kylo's spine and came to rest around his heart as he and Luke dashed after Poe, who had already turned on his heel.

They were led around the back of the stable, where he had first seen Rey properly. The horse she always seemed to ride, the dappled silver grey stallion was there, shying away from the stable hands as he snorted, eyes rolling and foam speckling his flanks.

"What has happened here?" Luke asked in concern as he edged nearer the animal, who seemed to calm in his presence, "Shh, Ljós-Vindur, shh," he crooned, "Tú eru tryggur mín vinur, tryggur… Poe, Finn? Answer me, what has happened?"

Kylo watched as Finn swallowed thickly, "Ljós just cantered into the yard, he wouldn't let anyone touch him…" his frightened eyes met Kylo's as he almost whispered, "And there was no sign of Rey."

Kylo reeled inside, it felt as if his heart had stopped, as if time had slowed down, taken a deep breath...

His Kærur's horse had come back alone.

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There was an ache in Rey that she had never felt before. It was set deep inside her, where his body had joined with hers… She should not have let this happen, but his blood sang to her, perhaps in the same way as hers sang to the Marwolaeth. She did not know, but whatever magic was contained in his blood, it had made her weak, unable to resist him…

Rey shivered, she should not have let this happen, but, oh, it had felt… she did not know a word for how it had felt, none of the languages she spoke possessed a suitable word for how it felt, having his blood in her mouth and his hands on her body… his body inside hers.

This act was not something that had been discussed in Ymerodraeth, not between Trollskïr, not until you were ready to be joined to a Marwolaeth. Then, you were taken aside, by tight eyed, grim mouthed elder Trollskïr, and when you returned from that talk you had terrified eyes and shaking shoulders and refused to speak of it.

Rey had never had that talk, she had done what they all whispered of, all dreamed of. She had escaped, and not been caught.

Many tried to escape, some managed to evade capture for days or weeks, a few managed months. But they were always caught again, brought back limp and dead eyed, covered in bites from the Marwolaeth that had caught them. Sometimes they took a long time to recover, sometimes they never did, just remained dead inside until their masters grew weary of them and they were drained dry, left as only a husk, and as a warning to other Trollskïr.

So, when Rey realised that she was coming to the end of her body changing, she decided that she would escape, and if she succeeded, she would die before she was brought back to the Amddiffynfa.

And somehow, she had. It helped that she had waited till just before high summer, when the land was bathed in light for those precious extra hours.

Of course the Rakhâs had been set on her trail, but it had been a while till anyone had even realised she had disappeared.

For once her decision had been made, in the depths of winter, she had adopted a quiet, polite, subdued mien. It had made the elder Trollskïr suspicious at first, as she had always been disobedient and defiant. But after a few months of concentrated effort and biting the insides of her cheeks, they had relaxed, as had the Rakhâs and the few Marwolaeth who paid attention.

"You have grown up, Cariad," Caethes had said to her one day, "A few more months I think, and you will be ready to be presented. You have already attracted some interest…" she paused and patted Rey's arm, lowering her voice to a thin whisper as she added, "And your new attitude will make the first mating easier, it is best if you do not resist, and besides, they like it when you do."

Rey had looked at her sharply - she had never liked Caethes, the name literally meant Slave, in their private tongue and she seemed to behave thus… but perhaps there was a small victory in such defeatism? Denying the Marwolaeth the chance to dominate?

"I wish you would call me by my birth name," Rey had muttered after a pause, then bitten her tongue - that had been too like her old self.

Caethes had just sighed, "You know I cannot, your mother's name for you is the same as spitting in their faces, and you never know when they are listening."

Heulyn. Her mother had named her. Heulyn, meaning 'rey of light'. Rey could still remember the feel of her mother's weak breath at her ear, as she told Rey her true name, before she died, fading away from a sinking sickness that plagued overbred Trollskïr.

Rey had been small, old enough to feel the loss but too young to understand the why of it. She still felt that loss as a wound, buried deep in her heart. A wound she had not looked too closely at in many years, for fear that it had grown.

Rey shook herself from her reverie, she was back in the room she shared with Finn. He was already up and gone before she had arrived, which she was thankful for.

She had no desire to explain anything to him at this moment, to answer his question of why she had arrived in their room, completely bare, save for a towel.

She rooted around under her cot and came out with a change of clothing, it was not her usual garb - the style she had adopted since she settled here.

It was the first set of clothing Luke had had made for her, mimicking the style of attire he had found her in.

A dark, lace up leather vest, soft, tight leggings, a short wrap for around her hips and a loose, long sleeved blouse. Rey discarded the blouse and just donned the vest and leggings, it would be hot enough as it was. She left her feet bare, to help compensate, then quickly and quietly made her way to the stables.

Kylo Ren's presence was tangible, it had settled in her blood and bone, and the need to be alone pressed in upon her, making her feel a little trapped somehow.

She didn't bother tacking up Ljós-Vindur, they knew each other well and she had no need of anything other than her knees and hands for him to go where she willed him, he was her friend rather than her mount.

She rode out before anyone could stop her, riding swiftly in case anyone decided she should not go out alone.

Her lip curled slightly in derision, no one told her what to do... Of course she listened to Harri Luke, he was what she had imagined a father to be like, and she was also his wrangler, and he her saviour… but that did not mean she always did as he told her, all the same.

At first her seat was uncomfortable, pressing on places made delicate and sore by her night with Kylo Ren. She felt her cheeks heat a little at that thought and shifted herself, taking calming breaths.

It was done… yet she did not know what it meant. All she knew were whispered legends and half remembered rhymes. And even then, a man like that? She shook her head, he was hers for now, but she knew he would leave once he and his Knights had finished their training with Harri Luke. It would all come to nothing in the end.

Rey shook her head again, nothing was certain, she and many others may not be alive after the next few days, and to her, the future had always been an abstract concept - she was just grateful each day she was alive and not in Ymerodraeth.

Today she left the other horses in their corral, occasionally one would get lost or strike a hoof in a bad way and it would delay her return. It would not be safe to be abroad once the sun started to set, she would not chance being caught out.

Rey still could not believe they had come for her, she was just one and one alone, why did she matter? But of course she knew the answer, it was pride; pride and vengeance… and the fact that Trollskïr had been growing rarer. The Marwolaeth seemed to have realised their mistakes in discarding most of the male Trollskïr and had started to keep them alive, hoping to help repopulate the dying breed, but it was a slow process.

Letting her thoughts drift, she had not been taking note of where Ljós had been taking her, content to just move away from the incessant noise and stink of humans and let her mind wander aimlessly, to find her centre again…

As she finally took note of her surroundings, however, she realised that had been foolish. They were far out of sight of any human dwelling, too near the hulking, brooding mass of the mountains.

She turned the horse with a thought, as she muttered to him, "Why did you bring me here, Ljós?" The horse whickered and twitched his ears at her, turning and starting back in the direction they must have come.

Rey could feel the Marwolaeth, not close, but much closer. As she prepared to urge Ljós into a canter, she froze.

There were humans out here. The fools! Why had they not heeded the warnings sent out by Harri Luke? No one lived near this end of the Slør, so what were they doing here?

Rey chewed her lip, she did not owe these humans anything, and yet, they would not be in danger if she had not come here, so perhaps she did… and she could smell blood.

If one were injured they were unlikely to make it somewhere safe by the time the sun set. Muttering curses under her breath she directed Ljós towards where her senses told her the humans were.

It was a man and a woman, the woman was on the ground, her leg obviously wounded, though Rey could not see the extent of the injury as it was hidden by woman's skirts.

They raised worried, blank eyes to her as Ljós halted and Rey dropped nimbly to the ground.

She kept her teeth carefully hidden under her lips as she approached them, ignoring the sweet scent of blood in the air as she asked, "You are wounded?"

The woman nodded mutely and the man spoke for her, "Yes, will you help us? She can go no farther on her legs."

Rey kept her lip from curling, it always astounded her, the frailty of human bodies, the weakness of their will. Why had not the man simply carried the woman? Though perhaps he had, he himself looked spent.

Rey nodded curtly, "I can take her with me on the horse, but you will have to run. It is not safe here, we must leave, have you bound the wound?"

It would need doing, the scent was distracting her, she was hungry, even after the bonding.

The man shook his head and Rey nodded and drew in a careful breath, before settling on the ground by the woman; at least there was plenty of material in that skirt, enough to make a decent bandage for now. She was just reaching for the woman when the man drove a knife into her arm.

Rey hissed, it was a small wound, and did not hurt, but it surprised her, as she went to spring up the woman stabbed her in the thigh, through her leggings.

A burning feebleness started surging through her veins and her body stilled in shocked recognition, there was Marwolaeth venom on those blades, the man and woman took advantage of her surprise and cut her again, on her arm and thigh.

Rey snarled, letting her true essence show and the man staggered back, the woman cowered as Rey crawled towards her - if she could feed, she may be able to fight the effects long enough to get onto Ljós, he would bear her back to the castle, back to her bondmate.

The woman shrieked and kicked out at her, Rey caught a flailing limb and sank her teeth into a calf muscle, it was not a good place to bite, but she hoped to subdue the woman enough to reach a useful vein.

In her single minded need to feed, Rey had forgotten the man. He returned, to stab her in the back and shoulders, and it was too much, curse her, and them.

"Flýggja skjótur, Ljós-Vindur! Flýggja heimbýli!" To her relief she heard hooves beat a hasty retreat, her last thought as darkness pulled her away from the light, was that at least Ljós's return would warn those back at Ljósur...

Rey dreamed of the freezing, inky depths of the Amddiffynfa. It was because of that, that she had hated water, had hated getting wet, until Finn finally persuaded her to try the Ljósur baths late one night, after she had sampled bjór for the first time…

Id-Asâlukh, the clan her Marwolaeth masters had belonged to, had made their home in a vast cave system, they called it the Gethlar. And she had hated it almost as much as she hated them. The water they bathed in there was frigid, as cold as any ice she had ever felt, it hurt your bones and teeth, made your nipples scrunch up to tiny, painful points.

No, that water was nothing like the delicious heat of the Ljósur baths… as she went deeper into unconsciousness, her dreams turned dark and died.

Rey awoke with her mouth full of rich blood, at first she was only aware of feeding, of her body's need for strength to flush out the poison in her already weakened blood.

Her other senses reawakened slowly, but as soon as she sensed what was near, her eyes immediately shot open and she dropped the arm she had been supping from, automatically scrambling backwards away from the limp, almost lifeless body from which she had been feeding.

She did not get far, less than three paces before she was caught up by the scruff of her neck in an iron grip. She hissed, clawing her fingers and kicking her legs backwards.

Laughter was her only reward. Her wrists were caught in a bone bending grip and she was drawn tight back against a body.

"Shhhh, little one," a honeyed voice crooned against her ear, cold teeth gently bit the shell of it and there was a deep inhalation, "So ripe you are, so sweet."

Rey felt the ache in her teeth, he had not broken her skin yet… she stilled her body, sighed as if in defeat. There was another chuckle, "Will you be good, little one? We came a long, hard way to find you."

Rey closed her eyes and muttered, "Yes, exalted one."

She could feel his grip about to loosen when a voice came from behind them, "I would not underestimate her, if I were you, Najsûs. She may be tiny, but she made it to this land all on her own, and if you bite her, Ânimhos will be displeased, you know she is for him."

The grip on her neck re-tightened and Rey hissed angrily, brought her knees up to her chin then kicked back with her legs together.

There was an angry snarl, and though some of her hair tore loose, she was on the floor and sprinting before her feet could settle. Her flight lasted all of five seconds.

It did not take them long to subdue her, and she was limp, weak and aching and she probably did them only a small measure of harm, but it was better than nothing.

Then there was the unmistakable feel of fangs sinking into her arm and she couldn't help the scream that ripped from her throat.

They were barely in her flesh for a split second though before they were out again, as someone snarled, "Najsûs no!"

There was a whined response, "Just once Kâltsat! Just to make her biddable!"

"No Najsûs! Ânimhos will be able to tell, you saw what he did to Dujtoi after he touched her in the wrong way, and he will want to see her now that she is lucid."

Rey had been slowly crawling away as they argued, but she may as well have just stayed still.

"Trollskïr," the freezing whispered hiss froze her. It was the Ancient who spoke, his presence beat against her mind like great dark wings, weighing down her will, pulling at her essence.

All she could do was moan a low hiss as she felt him approach her on silent feet.

"Leave us," the voice commanded.

There came a murmured, "Yes, zabad Ânimhos," and then no sound but the stir of air in wherever this cursed cavern was.

"Cariad, I believe you were known as, when you lived with the Id-Asâlukh… But you will now answer to Amê," black boots came in to her field of vision, yet Rey refused to look up, refused to grovel.

With a great effort, she snarled, "My name is Heulyn!"

The Ancient tutted, "Hadis?"

Hands pulled her upright and Rey squeezed her eyes shut, she could feel his immense strength as he approached her, the feel of his cold breath ghosted over her face and she flinched when she felt icy fingers trail lightly over her left cheek.

There was an inhalation, "Ah, I can smell the sun on your skin, and the blood beneath it… look at me, Amê, open your eyes and let me see you."

Rey bit her lip as she fought his compulsion; it was the wrong thing to do - Marwolaeth loved the scent of Trollskïr blood almost as much as the taste.

She hardly had time to regret it when teeth sank into her throat, a low growl emanating from the Ancient and the one who held her fast.

Yet the pain had only just begun when it stopped abruptly. "What have you done?"

Rey's eyes flew open in surprise and she finally laid eyes on him. He was tall, with skin as white as snow and pale almost colourless blue eyes, his hair was the colour of dried blood, bone structure sharp, with high cheekbones and arched brows.

And he was apoplectic with rage, lips drawn back to reveal his fangs, so much more than those of Trollskïr, every tooth of a Marwolaeth was sharp and elongated.

"What have you done?" he spat, "Tell me! What is this flavour that taints your blood?"

Rey felt a sliver of triumph enter her heart as she hissed, "I formed a blood bond!"

The Ancient stilled, face freezing as he stared at her, she flicked her eyes away from his instantly, before she could be caught by his gaze, then she shut them again as he came close to her once more, "That should not be possible," he murmured against the skin of her neck as he tilted it and inhaled, before sinking his teeth in again.

This time, he latched on for a while longer, long enough for her to gasp and shiver as the pain started to become something else.

He pulled away before the feeling could be fully realised, "You are no longer pure, I can taste him, who is he? I will tear his heart out and drink from it while you watch!"

Rey tried to fight the urge to tell him, but his saliva worked quickly, far quicker than any previous time she had been bitten, perhaps it was due to his age or the fact she had not been bitten for a long, long time.

"He is a Knight of this land," she struggled against his compulsion, and managed to get out a strangled, "But he is gone from here now, I do not know where!"

"Open your eyes and look at me," his voice was all silk and steel, and she could not disobey it.

His gaze on hers was like the deep dark between the stars, cold and devoid of mercy, "The next time you lie to me, I promise you, you will rue it."

Rey didn't have the will to lie to him again, but just enough of it to keep her tongue behind her teeth.

The Ancient sighed, "I dislike the taste of the taint, but you must be brought to heel; Hadis, take her to the others, you may all sample her, arms or throat only."

For a moment, Rey's mind went blank with fear, her body and mind told her she must struggle, she must escape, but it took a moment for her will to overcome the compulsion.

She was carried into another part of the cave and dropped down on something soft, she righted herself, trying to get her shaky legs to obey.

Hadis knelt down, she had the impression of inky raven hair against pale skin before she snapped shut her eyes again.

Hands pushed her back down, at first she struggled, but she knew it would be a wasted effort and went limp as he sank his teeth into her.

Soon others joined him, and she allowed her mind to float away as her body convulsed against their lips.

This had not happened when she lived in Amddiffynfa. When she had been young and they bit her, it had only hurt, had only burned. They had done it to control her, to keep her docile, particularly her, because she had been forever disobeying the rules.

This must have been what they waited for, what indicated a Trollskïr was ready to mate, the change in the bodies response to being bitten.

This forced pleasure was bitter though, it was like what Ky- no! she must not think his name, what her bondmate's hands and body had brought her to, but hollow, it wasn't real.

The only real flicker of pleasure she felt, was knowing that they could taste the taint in her blood, their prize and were disgusted by it.

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A/N: Dear readers, I am so sorry this has taken me such a long time to update. It took me a long time to decide whether or not I should include Rey's POV, after seven chapters of just Kylo. I kind of psyched myself out about it, and on top of that have had the worst case of writer's block. I can only apologise and hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. I don't know when the next update will be, as I am focusing on finishing my other WIP, (From One Spark To The Horizon Wide) butI can assure you that I will not abandon this story, and the wait for the next chapter will not be as long.

Translations/meanings for chapter 8:

Faroese (Gamal)

Banna tað = damn it! (But more emphatic than merely damn)

Flýggja skjótur, (Ljós-Vindur!) Flýggja heimbýli! = fly swift, fly home!

Tað er hvat tað er = It is what it is

Tú eru tryggur mín vinur, tryggur = You are safe, my friend, safe

Welsh (Trollskïr)

Amddiffynfa = citadel

Neo-Khuzdul (Vampire)

Amê = Mine

Gethlar = Supreme fortress

Id-Asâlukh = The Desolators (The clan Rey belonged to)

Zabad = Title similar to Lord