Chapter One - At First Glance

Chapter Summary: Your first encounter with Commander Kylo Ren completely overtakes you.

Chapter Song: Chasing Fire, stripped version, by LAUV ♥️

Chapter Warnings: no smut, mentions of arranged marriage (not with kylo)

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When you were born, your biological parents could not afford to take care of you, however, the Williams family soon adopted you at a very young age as they had abundant wealth. Their family comprised Arthur and Barbara Williams, husband and wife respectively, and two of their own biological daughters, Eleanor being the middle child, Louisa the youngest, and you were the eldest.

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Chapter I - At First Glance

01 October 1810

As you awoke from a more-than-peaceful night of sleep, you looked around your room, distantly hearing your sisters arguing about nonsense. Smiling and outstretching your arms, seeing the sunlight flowing through the window, you remembered today was your father's birthday.

He would be fifty years old, and your mother saw it perfectly fit to throw an extravagant ball for him.

Whenever large celebrations occurred, they warranted a beautiful gown. You loved wearing them: you wore your hair down, and the dresses always accentuated your curves, gracefully flowing down to the floor.

Unfortunately, being the eldest daughter, your family always hoped for you to find a prospective husband during these large gatherings. Despite this time being your father's birthday. Your family was extremely loving, but relentless in the pursuit of a marriage that wasn't even theirs.

Your aunts, uncles, cousins, and distant family pressured you, which was expected given the fact your older female cousins wed in previous years to suitors they met at soirées.

And you wanted to vomit.

What meaning does the union between two people not in love carry? Surely genuine love is worth more than all the fucking shillings a rich man could acquire in Britain.

Sighing, you lazily shifted yourself off of your soft, warm bed, and went to the refresher to clean up and begin your day.

As you made your way downstairs, you found your two sisters, Eleanor and Louisa, scrambling aimlessly around the family room in a quarrel.

"What have you done with my most precious necklace, Louisa!" Eleanor yelled, voice laced with malice.

"Well, why don't you ask her!" Louisa angrily shouted back, pointing at you.

Eleanor's demeanor relaxed, knowing you were only just waking up. "I'm very sorry, but do you know where my necklace went?" She paused, beginning to panic senselessly, "Oh, I just must wear it at father's ball tonight!"

Groggily laughing at your sisters' display of anger over an insignificant piece of jewelry, you complained, "Oh, Eleanor, must you always wear that forsaken necklace? We have far too many other beautiful pieces you can wear for tonight."

Her face morphed into a sneer, and her eyes narrowed. "Oh, I know, but that one is the most beautiful. Everyone in this family knows how important that piece of jewelry is to me. Would you reckon someone has stolen it?!"

"Nevermind that, Eleanor. We have a ball to prepare for tonight. There is no time for such meaningless worry. I shall help you find your necklace tomorrow. Wear one of my silver pieces," you stated calmly.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, but nonetheless tacitly consented to your suggestion.

You continued, "Louisa, would you like me to help you with your updo after breakfast?"

She smiled happily, "Of course. We must definitely look our best, I heard mother invited handsome soldiers from London! How exciting!"

You and Eleanor chuckled with her, continuing to whisper over these men. After seeming to be happy sisters once again, the three of you made your way into the kitchen for breakfast. Your mother and father were already present at the table, happy to see their daughters make an appearance. You and your sisters wished your father a happy birthday, exchanging positive remarks to him.

As you sat down, still laughing quietly with your sisters, your mother said your name, which caught your attention.

"So," she started, tone mild, "I have the most wonderful news. Tonight at your father's ball, Prince Alexander Beaumont of Oxford will be making a most esteemed appearance. I trust you will acknowledge his presence and introduce yourself as a potential bride."

You felt a sickening fucking feeling form in the pit of your stomach, but were quick to ignore it. "Yes, mother. It would be an honor to meet a man of such high ranking and virtue." She smiled happily at your confirmation of her request. Not that you had a choice.

"Very well. It is best you wed soon, make a more proper image of this family," she continued, and you silently agreed, but couldn't shake how dreadful your situation was.

Your father looked at you, sensing your sudden unease, and tried to reassure you. Saying your name kindly, he said, "Prince Beaumont is a very respectful and kind man. I have had the privilege of meeting him a few years back during my journey to Oxford two years ago."

Feeling a bit more relaxed, you chimed in, "Thank you, mother and father. He definitely sounds like someone I am convinced to marry."

Your mother quipped, "Good. It is settled, then."

You knew your father, and you definitely knew your mother's intentions at this moment. Marrying Prince Beaumont was official in their minds, but only for the most superficial reasons. He was a Prince, and if you were to wed him, you would become the Princess of Oxford. This would allow your sisters greater chances of finding agreeable suitors.

And of course, the Williams' family reputation.

Yes, your family was wealthy, however, there were families much wealthier. A daughter married to a Prince guarantees respect from even the most prestigious families in England.

Something you couldn't help shake, however, was the feeling that life wasn't all that it was. The British government was incredibly oppressive and did everything in its power to restrict its citizens; this was something you were able to identify ever since being a young girl. But people were always so afraid of having too much freedom, and they were definitely afraid of new innovations, the prospect of technology, and of course, the future. There were other very small nuances to life, related to the way you lived and how people behaved that didn't add up.

You sighed, pushing your thoughts away and prepared to get ready for your father's ball.

Life just wasn't as it seemed, and you wistfully wondered if you'd ever discover the truth, no matter how shattering and devastating it might be.

After you had helped Louisa with her hair and tying her dress and your mother had helped you and Eleanor with your hair, you began feeling more confident about how the night would go.

You were alone in your room, makeup and hair completed beautifully, subtle eyeliner and blush complimenting your features. Your hair was curled and left down, flowing behind you with small pieces framing your face. You were wearing multiple silver sterling earrings; you were rebellious and had given yourself four piercings on both ears, three on your earlobes and one on your cartilage, an act that was much to your mother's dismay.

And your dress. Oh, your dress. It was a deep red color, strapless, and flowed down to the ground similar to a majestic, crimson waterfall. You wore beautiful shimmering silver flat shoes to dance easier in, despite them being hidden under the vastness of your gown. Backing away from the mirror, you blushed just looking at how gorgeous you appeared.

Prince of Oxford be damned, you were a Queen, with or without any man.

Oh, how that would become the lie of the century. Literally.

As you wandered into the noisy ballroom, you stared at the high ceilings, admiring the stunning architecture of the room, how the ceiling curved at the top, and the beautiful artwork present on every wall. You did your best to keep to yourself, but these efforts were meek and reduced to nothing.

Guests dressed in their finest dressings were seen in every direction, and they happily danced in pairs to the music playing. While the display was extremely elegant, you felt confident enough to meet Prince Beaumont as your parents had wished for you.

As you followed your mother to a part of the room where only conversation was taking place, you caught eyes with a man you presumed to be Alexander. This man was very tall, absolutely and unequivocally majestic, black hair framing his stunning, enrapturing face as you continued to observe his features. His prominent nose was considerably large, but you couldn't help but feel attracted to what uniqueness he possessed.

He had a light pink scar on his face, only adding to your wonder about him.

His lips were very pink and plump, and they parted when he caught eyes with yours. His completely black suit caused him to exude great power and elegance. You gave him a smile as you continued to walk closer to him, blushing madly.

As you followed your mother, believing you were walking towards the most enchanting man in the room, she turned and led you to a table in a dimly lit corner.

An attractive young man wearing a white suit could be seen at a table, surrounded by many girls. Your mother spoke up, "This is Prince Alexander Beaumont of Oxford," she turned to you and happily chirped your name for him to hear, "And this is my daughter. She is considering you for your hand in marriage, your Royal Highness." The young girls looked at you with jealousy and envy, which you felt guilt for. These young women were pining for this man's attention, but his attention was on yours.

And that attention was the last thing you could have desired.

You felt the sinking feeling again, because sure, this man was a Prince, and he was good-looking, but he did not compare to the undeniable force of a man you had just witnessed across the room moments ago.

You extended your hand to him as he stood up to greet you. "It is such an honor to meet you, Prince Alexander," you said, feigning happiness.

Your mother watched you intently as you conversed with the Prince for the next few minutes about your skills, talents, and hobbies. He was very interested in your life, however, you felt absolutely no chemistry with him. His words of kindness did not cause you to swoon, and his energy could not be more lackluster. Soon, your conversation with him died out, and you whispered to your mother that you were "surely not interested in this man."

She quipped, "Nonsense. He is a Prince, and by the looks of it, he believes you are a perfect bride." At the mention of this, he confidently got down on his knee, smirking with a strange desire as the girls around him continued glaring at you, yet were also gazing lovingly at Alexander.

Suddenly, as he crouched down, he uttered those four terrible words.

"Will you marry me?"

Just like that.

Even if you wanted to marry him, you knew it was just too soon and felt wrong.

He pulled out a large, beautiful, but slightly ugly ring for you, and slid it on to your finger, but you felt tears well up in your eyes, and they were not of happiness. You felt sad, hurt, and betrayed by your own family. This man had only come to know you for twenty minutes and now you were supposed to wed him?

Sobbing quietly, you lifted your dress and began to hurry away from your mother and Alexander, ignoring your mother's pleas for you to return.

Suddenly, a large, dark figure stopped you at the door you were trying to exit. You looked up at him with teary eyes, sniffling, "Excuse me, sir, m-may I please get through?"

After the words escaped your lips, you realized this was the man you had gazed at across the ballroom. You tried to dry your tears, but he had already beat you to the task.

Pulling out a handkerchief, his large hand gently wiped away the tears on your face. This act alone was enough to render you speechless. You managed to let out a tiny remark, whispering, "Th-thank you, sir."

"Now, what is the matter, beautiful?" he queried, searching your face for an answer. You mentally took note of his deep American accent, how it dripped of honey, realizing he was very far from home.

"I was just proposed to, by a man I could never be convinced to marry! Oh, he's a Prince, very respected, but I will never love him!" you gushed, more tears spilling from your eyes.

"Hm."

"And my entire family wishes for me to marry him, I-I'm sure of it!"

"I see."

You sniffled, feeling like a silly teenager, "Oh, well, t-thank you for listening to my emotional nonsense, sir."

"A family that forces an unwanted marriage upon their daughter is no family at all," he comforted.

You nodded, agreeing with him, but continued sniffling. This time he gave you his handkerchief, enabling you to dry your tears completely.

As you handed the soft cloth back to him, he outstretched his hand, and asked, "May I have this dance?"

You blushed once again, smiling up at him, "Yes, sir, I would love nothing more."

"Wait!" you quickly remarked. "What is your name?"

"My name is Kylo Ren. I am known to many as Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order, a very confidential military branch that is located in the United States. We traveled overseas to England to complete a critical mission...in Oxford."

He sounded a bit unsure of those words, though. As though he had to think about them before speaking them.

You brushed it off.

"How impressive. I've never heard of a man being a Commander. Most prestigious men are Princes or Dukes around here," rolling your eyes at the mention of Princes.

As much as you admired dressing up in fancy ball gowns, certain parts of royalty made you sick, especially now.

You introduced yourself to him, but it was just you. Not Princess or Duchess. Just you.

"Thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you," he admired, taking your hand and pressing his lips gently to the surface.

Feeling relieved and joyous, you took his hand as the slow dance number began playing. He held your hand with such grace, your feet working together and you both elegantly swayed and moved across the dance floor. When you caught a glance of them, your entire family was looking at you with disdain and disappointment.

Almost as if on cue, as if he could sense your worry, Ren pulled you closer, your waist up against his lower body, and you felt yourself growing incredibly aroused, face heating up once again as you recognized his movement as a small act of defiance against your family.

A feeling that could finally be shared with someone other than yourself.

Soon the music ended, and you were so close to him, heart rapidly pounding in your chest. He smelled exquisite: a powerful fragrance of leather, embers, white blossoms, and divine white musk.

And during the entire dance number, he never let you leave his gaze.

You were still blushing, feeling such a powerful man welcome you into him without force, but with affection.

And somehow, he managed to pull you closer to him as the music ended. He moved down to your face, beautiful lips parting once again. You stood on your tippy-toes as your mouths connected, your tongues dancing against each other. His lips were so soft and inviting, and you couldn't help but smile up at him as he pulled away from you, your cheeks furiously red and heated.

Everyone in the ballroom was staring in your direction, at you and this tall, beautiful man, completely in awe. Kissing usually does not happen during such proper celebrations.

Especially from young women such as yourself. You were modest, showing any sexual attraction to a man your family did not approve of first was disgraceful.

Especially a man who was not your husband.

Your family was certainly cross; they were staring daggers into your soul.

Your mother's hair was slightly disheveled and her face was red, but with fury, and your father's arms were folded. He was clearly disappointed that his daughter would not accept such an honorable marriage proposal.

Your sisters would not even look at you, and Alexander had the expression one could compare to humiliation of the highest grade.

Soon, the guests in the ballroom continued their casual conversations, peeling their attention off of you. Ren took your hand once again and led you out of the room, sensing the seriously overwhelming tension your public display of affection had created.

He walked you to the tiny piano room next to the ballroom for some privacy.

"Is this yours?" Ren questioned as he pulled out a beautiful piece of jewelry you instantly recognized as Eleanor's necklace.

"Oh, yes, well, um, I mean no. It is my sister's necklace, sir. Where did you find it?" you curiously asked.

"Here," he spoke, pointing to the piano.

Realization dawned on you as you remembered Eleanor had been in the piano room practicing her music a few days before the ball.

"Oh right! She must have taken it off for some reason, and left it in here. She will be more relieved than you could imagine. Thank you so much, Commander Ren," you kindly affirmed to him, smiling once again.

"The pleasure is all mine."

A beat of comfortable silence.

"Do you play?" you queried.

He affirmed, "Yes. I do."

"Sir, would you mind playing a piece for me? It would be an honor," you wondered. This time truly would be an honor. He was a man worthy of your attention.

"No," he replied. "I only play for those who are excellent acquaintances of mine."

You frowned, crossing your arms.

He continued, "And I have none."

Realization dawned across your features once again. He had no acquaintances or anyone he was close to. Your heart sunk with sympathy.

"I apologize, sir. Maybe someday, I will get to hear you play," you said calmly.

"Soon, Angel."

The depths of your soul softened into an unforgettable aurora of pleasure and joy after hearing him speak to you using such an engaging term of endearment.

"Understood, sir."

At this point you presumed the conversation was over, feeling puzzled at what to ask. Clearly piano was a sensitive subject. You decided that silence served you better.

Almost as if he tried to stop himself from speaking, words still escaped his lips, voice falling to an even deeper baritone. Dark eyes boring into your soul.

"In two days, meet me in this room at midnight. Come alone. I unquestionably must see you again."

Before you had the time to respond, Ren walked out of the door, cape billowing behind him, and was gone.

Your veins were on fire. He left you feeling shaken yet utterly dazzled. One thing was for sure, you knew it in your heart.

You were going to see him again.