#kylo

Mama! Hiiiiii

-a younger @kylograyson

@kylograyson

@kylograyson

what the- who are you..? The fuck?

Chapter 10

She made her way through the halls, counting her steps, like always, her ears perking at every sound. She pressed herself against a wall as a general passed, her big dark eyes filled with panic. She wondered if that person was a scientist, or if they were a subject. Either way she wasn’t going to let them close enough to find out. Once they made it to the door of the training room, she was practically pushing to get inside. She hated the halls, she needed to be in a confined room, a room where there was no chance of being contaminated.

She rushed inside, looking around in wonder. This was much different than the knights hall. It was a large open space, a mat in the center. The ceiling stretched high overhead, disappearing into shadows where thick metal beams crossed one another. The walls were dull black durasteel, gouged and dented in places as though someone had struck them hard enough to leave permanent scars. There were no decorations, no windows, nothing soft. Everything inside the room seemed built to survive violence.

Training dummies stood against the far wall, many of them adorned deep cuts and broken armor plating from years of constant abuse. Weapon racks lined another, organized with blasters, staffs, practice blades, as well as strange weapons she couldn’t name. She would have to ask Ushar about them later. She began to wonder absentmindedly, her fingertips tracing over everything she passed. She pressed one palm against a dent in the wall that was larger than her hand. Someone had done that. One of them, she assumed. She looked back at them, then at the wall again, trying to imagine which one of them had hit it hard enough to bend metal.

It smelled different in here. Not like the hall. Sweat, metal, and something more sour. Blood. “Your sure I won’t be contaminated in here?” She questioned, the tone in her voice making it clear that her courage was beginning to falter. “You could lick the floor, and you still wouldn’t be contaminated.” Cardo chuckled lowly, his large body resting on a bench as he re-laced one of his boots. 438 tilted her head, her face twisting into confusion as her ears twitched overhead. “Why would I lick the floor? Is that something you do in a training room?” All of the knights around the room hid smirks and coughed away laughter. “No, bunny. That’s called a joke.” Cardo sighed, more fond than exasperated.

The sound of the door sliding open once again caught her attention. She immediately fixated on it and watched as a familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. Kylo, she could recognize his smell anywhere. The man smelled colder than the others. Leather and clean metal, but somewhere beneath it all was something warmer she couldn’t quite name, a scent she had never come across before. It was like wood and smoke, faint enough that she only she seemed to notice it. Large boots took careful steps as he entered, clad in all black, radiating his usual intimidating power.

It took him a moment to notice her, but once he did, he stilled immediately. He stared at her for a moment in the complete silence that had overtaken the room, then he looked at the knights, as if expecting some kind of explanation. Kylo was well aware that, for nearly three months, they had been unable to convince 438 to leave the safety of the hall unless she was being brought to him for training. Yet here she stood of her own accord. “She didn’t want to be left behind today.” Vicrul shrugged. Ushar nodded his head in her direction. “Said she wanted to come too. Unprovoked.”

Something in Kylos chest seemed to shift, not from happiness, but from the satisfaction he felt from knowing that the knights were succeeding in their mission. This behavior from the girl, this wasn’t obedience, this wasn’t conditioning, this was progress. Real visible progress. Kylo’s gaze returned to 438. She wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t trembling. She was just there. The corners of his mouth almost threatened to move before he caught himself. With that he began the training session.

438 continued to make her way around the room, inspecting each and everything that she could get her hands on. With each object she picked up she would look back at the men, almost as if she was waiting to be scolded for touching things that didn’t belong to her, but the reprimanding never came. Every few minutes the sounds of the men sparing would catch her attention, her eyes would fixate on them with cautious curiosity, like she was trying to determine whether or not they were really hurting one another. She had grown quietly attentive when it came to monitoring the men when they were inside the hall. Raised voices or movements from them that seemed anything other than calm would immediately grab her attention.

If Cardo was getting irritated with a repair, she would sit herself next to his leg, knowing that he couldn’t bring himself to stay angry when she was close. If Ushar began to pace, brows creased, thoughts racing in that way that made his head pound, she would quietly approached his bookshelf, asking him questions to take his mind off of whatever it was that was plaguing him. When Vicrul would sit on the couching, cleaning his scythe in that way that made it clear his mission hadn’t gone as planned, she was carefully make her way over, sitting so close that they almost touched, sometimes she would even let one of her ears touch his shoulder. Each and every one of them had noticed it, that shift from terrified, almost prisoner like behavior, to curious creature that almost seemed to like them.

Ap’lek shoved Kuruk hard, the younger man’s back hitting the wall with a thud that made 438 jump. She was immediately at the edge of the training mat, her attention now fully on the men, the look on her face laced with concern. Kuruk groaned, the sound making the girl rush to him before any of them had the time to stop her. She didn’t touch him, just hovered, putting her body between the man and his brother like she was shielding him from danger. “No.” She frowned back at Ap’lek, almost as if she was attempting to scold, despite the waver of anxiety in her voice. “You don’t get rewards for hurting. That’s bad. That’s against the rules.”

The room went still. Ap’lek froze where he stood, staring down at the creature planted between himself and Kuruk. She was half his size, her expression filled with fear, yet she didn’t move aside. This girl, who was nothing compared to them in build or strength, had somehow decided she was enough to stand between two Knights of Ren. Trudgen let out a gruff amused laugh. “She’s trying to protect you, brother.” Kuruk started at the white haired girl, pushing himself to stand straight once again. He crossed his arms over his chest as he tried to mask just how much this was affecting him.

Ap’lek slowly lowered himself into a crouch. “Pretty girl,” he said softly. “I’m not hurting him.” 438s face heated at the pet name, she still was not at all used to being called that, or anything other than 438 for that matter. She glared as fiercely as she could. “I saw you.” She countered, gesturing behind her like she was presenting evidence. “It is only practice, bunny.” Ap’lek tried again. She didn’t seem to like that answer, her expression not softening in the slightest. “Why is training… this?” Kuruk took a step closer to her, his chest so close to the back of her head that she could feel his warmth. “Because if he can knock me into a wall, then we train until he can’t.” he gestured toward Ap’lek. “That way, maybe next time someone else outside of this training room tries, they won’t be able to.”

She stood there for a while, contemplating, but never moving out of the way. “This training makes you,” she paused, searching for the correct word.

“-better?” Ap’lek nodded calmly. “Exactly, bunny.” With that, she slowly stepped aside, her eyes never leaving the two men. “You have to be careful anyways.” She spoke softly, like she was giving an order rather than just saying it. Ap’Lek gave her a finger salute of recognition. “Of course, pretty girl.”

She moved to the edge of the mat once again, this time watching them, studying each movement. They struck each other with brutal force. They knocked one another to the floor. But they also laughed and stood each other back up again. There was no punishment, no anger behind their actions, no fear between brothers. No one deemed the other a failure when they stumbled; they simply reset and tried again. She didn’t understand it completely, but somewhere deep down, something shifted. She thought maybe, just maybe, if she could earn their trust, then they would never hurt her either.

Kylo could see it now, the way the bond was forming, and he wanted to remind his men exactly what it was that they were bonding with. He wanted to make sure they were clear on what could happen if her loyalty were to lie elsewhere. After the men were sweat slicked and panting, Kylo waved for them to step aside, gesturing for the girl to join him on the mat. Timidly, she approached, hands in tight fists at her sides. “438, would you like to give the knights a demonstration? You’ve been doing so well in your testing, I’m sure they would like to see.” He questioned, giving her an encouraging look. There was a pause, and then she shook her head.

Her face made it clear that the response wasn’t sheer refusal, it was hesitation caused by shyness and embarrassment that she feared might come if she lost control infront of them. Kylo had anticipated such a reaction. Slowly, one gloved hand disappeared beneath his cloak. When it reemerged, something shiny caught the light, and also 438s attention. A comb, small, metal, the spine engraved with tiny stars, crescent moons, and swirling planets that seem to orbit one another. Every line had been etched by hand. By Kylos hand.

438s ears stood straight up, her eyes widening with poorly contained amazement. She took one step in Kylos direction to get a better look. “It will earn you a reward.” This was how her brain worked, this was how he got her attention, and it worked every time without fail. “Okay.” She nodded. With that Kylo motioned for Cardo to grab a training dummy from across the room. He did, dragging the heavy piece of equipment to stand in the middle of the mat. With an entertained smirk, he picked up a storm trooper helmet that sat discarded in a forgotten crate and settled it onto its head, giving it a hard pat like he was wishing the inanimate man luck. “Poor bastard.”

Kylo gave her space, stepping away so that she could clear her mind without distraction. She stood there studying the object in silence so long they almost thought she had changed her mind. Then her eyes fell shut and the air around them changed. Her face was blank but they could already feel it, the energy of the force radiating from her like a beacon. Carefully, she lifted one arm, her fingers outstretched in a way that almost looked delicate, but the men knew she was anything but that when she was in this state.

There was a few seconds where nothing happened, and then suddenly, CRACK. The men watched as the white helmet compress in on itself so hard that the dummy head within buckled beneath the pressure with a deep metallic groan. The entire dummy tipped backwards, the heavy statue landing against the floor with a thundering boom. Before any of them have the chance to react, 438s eyes open and she rushes over to Kylo, gently prying open his gloved hand with an impatient grunt, taking the prize. “Success” she announces like it has to be said aloud to be true, before scampering away to examine it in a nearby corner.

“Holy shit.” Trudgen grumbled under his breath, stepping towards the destroyed training equipment to get a better look. His hands found the helmet, having to use all of his strength to pull it free from its place on the dummy. The thing was destroyed almost beyond recognition, just a bundle of white and black scraps. He turned it over in his hands and looked inside. “There would have been nothing left.” He said, his voice laced with something like awe. “Shes amazing.” Kuruk whispered, his respect for power making it hard to hide just how impressed he was. “Shes terrifying.” Ushar corrected, his eyes moving to the bunny girl who was crouched in the corner, her big curious eyes fixated on her shiny treasure.

Chapter 9

She sat in her nest, heart still pounding out of her chest from her interaction with Kuruk as the other knights emerged from their rooms, one by one. Crimson flushed her cheeks in a way that was hard to hide, but none of them seemed to notice her panic, all too distracted with their morning tasks. Cardo smirked down at the crate that sat next to his workbench, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he crossed his massive arms over his chest. “You been digging in my tools again, bunny?” he teased, pointing a wrench in her direction. She nodded, never one to lie. “But I didn’t take anything,” she reassured him.

He wasn’t worried about that. Even if she had taken something, he wouldn’t have been cross with her. He had grown a soft spot for the girl. They all had, even though they wouldn’t say it out loud. “I know you didn’t,” he replied lowly, moving toward her nest with careful steps. “I put everything back where it was,” she said, almost like she was expecting correction. “I know you did.” He nodded. His eyes narrowed, his gaze seeming to search her face. “Why are you so red, 438? Do you feel well?” Her mouth quickly snapped shut at his comment. Maybe she wasn’t hiding it well. “She’s fine. Aren’t you, 438?” Kuruk questioned from across the room, not looking up from his star maps as an almost mocking grin pulled at his lips. She agreed immediately. “Yes, yes. I feel fine,” she hurried, moving herself so that she was facing the wall, pretending to fix her nest despite there being nothing to fix.

Cardo watched her for another second before glancing toward Kuruk, who was still studying his maps with that faint, infuriating grin. “…Right.” With that, he turned and retreated back to his workbench, the surface creaking beneath the weight of the man as he settled. 438 continued her nest pruning until the sound of the kitchen door made her ears perk with excitement.

Trudgen emerged, two bowls in his hands, something that had been happening every day for a while now. The girl immediately stood, making her way to the table, the seat right next to the man. She still sat on the outer edge, furthest away from the hulking knight like he might bite her if she got too close, but she sat willingly, and that was enough. Trudgen let out a low laugh, amused by how excited she got despite this being an everyday occurrence. He sat, setting both bowls on the table and sliding hers over to her. 438 ate silently, her legs swinging happily with every bite. Every now and then she glanced over at the man at her side, making sure he was still there, that he hadn’t left. She ate much more slowly than she used to, no longer hunching over her bowl like the knights might snatch it away at the first opportunity. It wasn’t huge, but it was improvement nonetheless.

Eventually, only one bite remained at the bottom of her bowl. She paused, staring down at it for a long moment. It was the best piece; she had saved it. Slowly, she picked it up with her spoon. She glanced over at Trudgen, who continued eating, pretending not to notice that the bunny seemed fixated on him. Her chair shifted as she inched closer, the proximity seeming to make her nervous. The man still didn’t look at her, knowing the moment he reacted would be the moment she would retreat.

With careful hands, she reached across the space between them. The spoon hovered there for only a heartbeat before she timidly placed the food on the very edge of his plate. She gave a small sheepish smile, then immediately gathered her bowl and scampered to the kitchen without another word. All of the men around her saw, but none of them said a thing. The hall remained quiet for another moment. Trudgen looked down at the lonely piece of food. His expression didn’t change, but after a long pause he picked it up, ate it, and quietly finished the rest of his meal.

Once they had all finished their morning tasks, they began gathering their things. They pulled armor into its rightful place on their bodies, they laced up heavy black boots, they took hold of weapons that seemed to be part of them, the way they never went anywhere without them. They stood and made their way to the threshold of the knights’ hall, moving like a mass of black shadows. Behind the sound of their booming footsteps was another noise. Smaller, more skittish, but unmistakable. Cardo turned slowly to look behind himself. There he found 438, standing just far enough away from him that if he were to reach for her, she would have time to bolt.

The man’s brows knitted together in confusion. “What are you doing, 438?” he questioned, his tone low but never harsh. She stared down at the floor for a moment, contemplating. Then her gaze rose to meet his own. “I want to go too,” she said matter-of-factly, no question in her voice, like she had already made up her mind. There was a pause of silence before Ushar took two steps in her direction. “We are going to meet Kylo in the training room.” She just nodded, her eyes drifting back to the doorway that sat wide open, like she wasn’t really concerned with the destination. “Okay.”

Vicrul chimed in next, his scythe resting lazily against his large shoulder. “Are you sure, bunny? The training room can be-“ Before he was able to get the sentence fully out of his mouth, Cardo’s elbow made hard contact with his chest, so hard it stole the air from his lungs. “Let her come. I’m sure she could use a break from being cooped up inside this hall all day.” With that, he turned and walked out the door, tossing a gruff, “Come on, bunny,” over his shoulder as he went. Her ears lifted, listening for sounds coming from outside the space that she was now so familiar with. Footsteps, voices, machinery, but none of it sounded particularly dangerous.

She turned to Ushar, the one who always seemed to have the answers to her questions, no matter how many she seemed to come up with each day. “If I go to the training room, will I be contaminated?” she asked, her hand absentmindedly finding its way to the base of her ears, pulling just slightly at the fur there in nervousness, a habit that the men had yet to break her of. “My brothers and I go to the training room every day, 438. And are we contaminated?” She thought for a moment, her shoulders raising and falling in short, anxious breaths. Then she shook her head. “No.” Ushar nodded once, confirmation and assurance. “Then you have your answer.”